Day 205

Isaiah 3–4 | Matthew 20:20–21:11 | Psalm 86

⸻

It started with a few sniffles.

But by the time we got to the doctor, Sophia had a full-blown sinus infection, an abscess behind her tonsil, and conjunctivitis caused by the pressure and fluid. The perfect trifecta.

She sat quietly on the exam table while the physician walked us through what was going on—and how and when she’d start to feel better.

But then the tears started.

Not little ones.

Big, slow, silent ones—the kind that come when your mind runs ahead of the moment. The doctor never mentioned surgery, but somewhere in her 13-year-old mind, she heard the word “tonsil” and started imagining them being taken out.

She was sick. But she was also scared.

And in that moment, I stopped worrying about catching what she had.

I climbed up next to her, sat on the edge of that sterile white paper, and pulled her close.

Because even when it’s inconvenient—even when it costs you something—love draws near.

The Ones Who Want Glory

In Matthew 20, James’ and John’s mother comes to Jesus with a bold request.

“Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.”

It’s gutsy.

It’s protective.

It’s deeply human.

She wanted a front-row seat for her boys. Prestige. Power. A moment to make all the years of poverty, rejection, and ridicule worth it.

But Jesus doesn’t grant the request.

Instead, He speaks of suffering. Of drinking the cup. Of glory that comes not from grabbing the spotlight—but from shouldering the cross.

“The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve,” He says, “and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)

He doesn’t just point to the path. He walks it. All the way to the cross.

The One Who Draws Near

Because of that ransom, Isaiah’s vision doesn’t stay a vision—it becomes a promise.

And Psalm 86 isn’t just poetry—it’s the actual cry of one who knows “He came for me.”

“In the day of my trouble I call upon you, for you answer me.” (v7)

“You, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” (v15)

The Holy One—the untouchable, sinless, sovereign King—draws near.

He doesn’t shy away from our infection.

He doesn’t recoil from our rebellion.

He doesn’t keep His distance for His own protection.

He steps toward the sick and frightened.

He sits on the edge of the exam table and doesn’t flinch at what He finds.

And He wraps His arms around the ones who can’t stop crying.

Because He’s not just the One who forgives sin—He’s the One who came to absorb it.

And when you realize that… when you see the One who deserves the throne choosing instead the path of a ransom… it breaks you in the best possible way.

That’s the kind of Lord we have.

⸻

Lord, I don’t deserve to sit at Your right hand or Your left. I don’t even deserve to be in the room. And yet You step toward me—not to shame me, but to shelter me. Thank You for climbing onto my exam table. For wrapping me in arms I don’t deserve. For showing me that Your strength is not proved by how far You stay above—but by how low You’re willing to go. Teach me to serve like You. To draw near. To love when it costs. To sit next to the scared and wipe away their tears. Amen.