Encouragement

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If I were Zaccheaus that day:

I know people think I’m a fool and that they despise me. I don’t have any friends in this crowd so I’ll just have to climb a tree to see this man that everyone’s talking about – just to find out what it is that’s so different about him. I don’t make eye contact with the people who stare at me with amazement, derision or hate - or those who are laughing at me. I keep my eyes on a very ordinary man walking calmly in the midst of all this clamour. He seems so relaxed and confident and yet strangely vulnerable somehow. It doesn’t take me long to realize that he must be the ONE.
Hopefully, he’ll walk right past me. I don’t want him to see me in this embarrassing position. Oh no! He’s looking straight at me! I can sense the crowd’s disapproval and hear their murmurs. I wish I didn’t care what they thought of me. Jesus actually seems happy to see me – as if he knows me somehow! Really knows me, I mean.
His voice is thrilling. It rings out over the murmuring as he calls my name. He does know me! – But how? He’s calling with such urgency and joy! I can’t seem to get down the tree fast enough. I stumble . . . but Jesus quickly reaches out to stop me from falling. His hand is warm and strong and gentle. He’s much taller than me but I feel so safe at his side. He looks down on me but I’m ten feet tall!
I can’t believe it! He wants to visit me – in my home! Why? There are so many other people to choose from and many of them live very good lives. Why me? I’m scared to voice my thoughts in case he changes his mind. I want to sing and dance all the way home. Do I dare? I think he’d be glad if I did but I’ll wait until we’re alone - if that’s possible. The crowd is following us, pushing and shoving like women at a bargain sale.
Jesus steps over my threshold and the dim room suddenly grows lighter. He gently thanks me for having him and then lays down on the couch, patting the place on his right. I can hardly grasp it – he wants me to sit next to him, in the place of honour! He leans closer and looks at me without saying anything. I can see eternity in His eyes. I can see my life. I can see my filth. He touches me gently on the arm and I start weeping because he KNOWS. I want to turn away but he won’t let me. The crowd is murmuring even louder now but Jesus is all I can think of. He compels me to meet his gaze. His expressive eyes are glistening. Tears like diamonds hover on his eyelashes. His face is so full of love that I can’t stand it - yet it’s impossible to turn away.
What’s happening to me? Waves of pure, visible love pour out from his breast – straight into my heart and I know that I know that I know that this man is GOD!
What can I do to say thank you? What can I give Him? Money would be an insult – I can SENSE that! He’s turning to the crowd and looking at them in the same way He looked at me! He loves them as well! The filthy blind man, the crazy demoniac, the leering prostitute, the twisted cripple, the derisive Pharisee – all of them! God loves them all! That’s why He loves me! I don’t have to hide behind this mask anymore because he knows me – just as I am. If Jesus loves the crowd, so can I! We all have something to hide!
Suddenly, I hear myself speaking and the words come tumbling out of my mouth, “Lord, please let me love them too. I’ve hated them for so long. Forgive me! I want to start again. I want my life to reflect YOU from now on.” His answer is all I hoped for but never expected in my wildest dreams. He’s telling me I’m saved. Saved from myself! He says I’m free. Free to be me! He’s telling the crowd that my faith has set me free. How could I do anything but believe? I was lost but He found me!

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