You have been reading those words from Romans, confess with your mouth, believe in your heart, and perhaps a quiet question has risen in you: Have I done that? Have I truly believed? The very fact that the question stirs in you is a mercy. The dead do not ask whether they are alive. The man deep in the sea does not wonder whether anyone will pull him out, he knows his danger and he cries for help. Your cry, even if it feels small and uncertain, is a sign that the Lord is already at work. So do not torment yourself with the question, but look to the answer.
The answer is not a feeling you must summon, nor a perfect prayer you must craft. The answer is a Person. Philip said, “We have found Him.” He did not say, “We have found a new philosophy” or “We have managed to feel sufficiently sorry for our sins.” He said, “We have found Him, Jesus of Nazareth.” And that is the whole of it. Faith is not staring at your own heart to see if it has repented enough; faith is looking away from yourself altogether, to the One who was lifted up on the cross and lifted up from the tomb. You are not saved by the strength of your grip on Him, but by the strength of His grip on you. A child trembling in the dark does not understand the father’s hand, but the father’s hand holds him just the same.
I know there are voices that tell you the gospel is too simple, that you must add something, feel something, comprehend something deeper. Men have always wanted to turn plain facts into riddles. But the apostle would not have it. He could sum it all up: Christ died for our sins, He was buried, He rose again. Like a love letter sealed with a black edge, sorrow and joy pressed into one, the facts themselves are the power of God. The sun needs no torch to help it shine. The resurrection of Jesus is the great dawn, and you need only open your eyes.
And if you are still holding back, do you know what I see in the Gospels? I see Jesus weeping. Not weeping because He is powerless, but weeping because He has come so near to our sorrow and our death, and we still hesitate to trust Him. Those tears were shed at the grave of a friend, but they were also shed over the unbelief that kept others from seeing what He was about to do. He is not a distant Savior. He has entered fully into your condition. He knows the weight of your sin not from a distance, but because He carried it. And now He lives, and His life is the guarantee that whoever comes to Him will never perish.
So come. You do not need to clean yourself up first. You do not need to understand everything. A lame man does not study anatomy before he asks to be healed, he hears that the Healer is passing by and he cries out. The very moment you turn your helm toward Christ, the whole direction of your future changes. That old love of sin will not have the last word. It may howl and struggle, but the cross has broken its back. From that hour you are bound for holiness and bound for heaven. And there will be a day, oh, happy day, when you will walk and leap and praise God, and wonder that you ever held back from such a Friend.
Let me pray with you now, straight from the heart.
Lord Jesus, You are the One of whom Moses and the prophets wrote. You are the Savior who died and rose. Look upon this dear soul who is searching for You, and let them find You this very hour. Speak the word that raises the dead, and let a new life begin. Take away every fear, every dark thought, every hindrance. Let them see You, and seeing You, believe. For Your own tender name’s sake. Amen.