He Didn’t Pass Me By (Mark 9:17-24)

My heart was aching. The setting was a church service filled with the sounds of worship. Everyone had thronged to the front where hearts were tender. I could hear the notes of praise and the whispered prayers. I could see eyes shining, having been washed clean by tears; life touching life in sweet harmony. Yes, everyone had thronged to the front of the church except those who were closest to me. They were untouched, unmoved, disconnected. As I watched what was happening, I was reminded of a song I’d learned as a child:

Pass me not, oh gentle Savior
Hear my humble cry
While on others Thou art calling
Do not pass me by.

As I sat there I felt His presence. The one who had written the song that had come to my mind was blind. Her name was Fanny Crosby. God never took away her physical blindness, but instead gave her great spiritual sight. What I heard whispered to my spirit was that I was to worship God in the circumstances where I had been placed. I was invited to see the throne of mercy through the eyes of the blind songwriter. There I was able to find sweet relief knowing that I was loved and understood. The deep longing of my heart was that those I loved would come to the spring of all comfort and drink the living waters Jesus offered.

My cry was heard. I had not been passed by, nor had those that I brought with me to Jesus. In the profound comfort of His presence I again heard His words, “Everything is possible to the one who believes” (Mark 9:23). This had been Jesus’ response to the father who had said, “If You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us” (Mark 9:22). My prayer had echoed that father’s prayer. At the center of my prayer was this question, “Jesus, are You truly able to save the ones I have brought to You? Do You really care?”

In the front of the building there was worship and sounds of praise. In the back of the building I humbly brought to Jesus my wounded, broken spirit. I worshiped in prayer by giving to Jesus both my belief and my unbelief, it was all that I had to offer Him. Sweet peace bathed my being as I looked at my Savior with eyes of faith. In that moment I abandoned my heart to the One who had given His all for me. Once more I surrender my soul to Him and anchored my faith in His promises. That night I experienced the sweet relief of knowing that the Savior had not passed by me nor the ones that I loved. He had heard my humble cry.