Five words have haunted me since last week’s post.
So, I’m revisiting the story of the ten lepers that Jesus healed.
In recalling the story, you know that only one returned to worship and give thanks to the ONE GREAT ENOUGH to heal him of this devastating disease.
That one just happened to be a foreigner.
“He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him — and he was a Samaritan (Luke 17:16)."
And, he was a Samaritan.
Five words.
A Samaritan.
One despised by the Jews.
One belonging to a people group that had experienced generations of hostility and rejection.
And yet...
The doubly cast aside made the extra effort to return to Jesus.
He KNEW!
He knew he what it meant to be rejected.
To be doubly unclean.
To stand on the outside looking in without hope.
But now, the outsider was healed.
Restored.
Made whole.
It was the outsider who recognized and glorified God.
But, what about the others?
What kept them from returning?
Were they excited about their healing and just forgot?
Was there some sense of entitlement that because they were “Jewish (alluded in the story, not specified)” there was an element of “having a right to healing?”
Or were they simply so focused on the gift that they lost sight of the Giver?
We aren’t told.
Yet, it makes me wonder.
Because I know how easily entitlement can creep into my own heart.
How quickly I can begin to expect God’s blessings rather than marvel at His grace.
How subtly pride can replace humility.
How spiritual blindness can keep me from recognizing the GREAT WHO behind every good and perfect gift.
Maybe that’s why those five words have lingered with me?
And, he was a Samaritan.
So, another heart-check in the midst of our Season of Thanks.
Have I allowed pride to creep in and rob me from an attitude of gratitude?
Have I developed a subtle sense of entitlement, forgetting that everything I have is a gift of grace?
Has spiritual blindness—or at the very least, myopic, tunnel vision—kept me from seeing all that my God IS? From falling at His feet with a humble heart of worship From glorifying Him wholeheartedly?
Am I so busy enjoying the gifts that I forget to worship the Giver?
It's just a thought...




















