I Dare You!

"At the name of Jesus, every knee should bow…and every tongue confess Jesus Christ is Lord." – Phil 2:9-11

When I first saw her I thought she was a ghost. She lay beneath a pile of bloody sheets, her wrists opened by a crisscrossed pattern of oozing lashes. With pasty white skin and a fixed unseeing gaze, she looked beyond help, a lost spirit in a living corpse drained of blood. Her name was Noel. She wanted to die.

I knelt beside the bed and took her hand. I was surprised at how limp it felt limp, how lifeless. Her skin felt cool and dry, her pulse, weak and slow. I aligned my face with hers. Her red-rimmed eyes seemed to peer right through me as if I weren’t even there. I felt a dark, foreboding presence as if death loomed all about us. As I gently dressed her wounds I explained her circumstances, that whether or not she agreed with me, I would be transporting her to the hospital.

"No," she whispered. "Just leave. Just let me die."

"I can’t do that," I said. "When you hurt yourself, Noel, you lost the right to make that decision. Look, come with me, it’ll give a chance to talk, just the two of us. My partner will give us an easy ride. All we’ll do is talk, I promise. Maybe say a prayer."

Noel’s head turned. She gazed at me with eyes full of confusion. I knew what I should do, I knew what I needed to say, but fear stopped me short. I glanced at the other rescue workers. The firefighters. The cops. What would they think of me? What do I do? Lord, I silently prayed, give me strength.

Say it, a voice beckoned me. Be bold, man. Just say it.

I couldn’t.

As if led by an unseen hand, Noel climbed out of the bed and followed me from the room. Our ride to the ER was simple. No oxygen masks came out of the wall. No IV bags were spiked. No ECG monitors were attached and no medications were pushed. It was just a simple ride. But as we rode together in the back of that old ambulance we talked; and as we talked we shared; and as we shared together I felt an overwhelming need to tell her. We were finally alone. What did I have to lose?

"Noel," I said, my heart racing. "Jesus loves you."

*

I saw my partner’s chin drop when he opened the rear doors of the ambulance. His eyes flew open in shocked surprise. But I understood the source of his confusion. Noel literally beamed. Her previously washed out face looked strong. Pink. She had been transformed, from death to life, by the mere utterance of a word. For you see, we held hands and prayed in the back of that old truck, and Noel gave her life to Christ.

Why is it so hard for us to say the name? Why do we cower, wondering what others will think? Because it’s the most powerful word in the universe. The Bible tells us He has a name above every name, and that at the mere mention of that name every knee should bow, and every tongue confess that He is Lord. Every Christian must remember that. There’s power in the name of Jesus, marvelous, life-changing power, hope, and salvation. Jesus died and rose that we might live. He’s my savior, and now He’s Noel’s too. Is He yours?

*

Now a challenge: If you know Jesus Christ it’s your turn. Go out and tell someone else about Him. And be bold, man. Say it. Say the name, Jesus.

I dare you!

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