R³ Devotional - Day 323

Sometimes God doesn’t ask.
He interrupts.
He steps into the middle of our lives, shining a light so bright that we can’t ignore Him.
Sometimes, that interruption changes everything.

Acts 9 tells one of the most dramatic stories of God’s intervention in Scripture. Saul, a man zealous for the wrong cause, is racing toward destruction. His heart is hard, his mind fixed, and his mission is one of persecution. And then — in a moment he never expected — Jesus meets him on the road to Damascus.

A blinding light.
A voice from heaven.
A question that pierces the soul:
"Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?"

Saul falls to the ground.
Blind. Vulnerable. Silent.

This is how God often works. Not gently. Not politely. Not at our pace. But decisively. Relentlessly. With perfect knowledge of what we need. And Saul needed to see the truth. He needed to stop running from God before he could run for God. 

The brilliance of this story is that God’s interruption is not punishment.
It is mercy. Saul believed he was right. He thought he was serving God. Yet his righteousness was misdirected. Without God’s intervention, he would have continued down a path that led only to death, for others and for himself.

How often do we chase what feels right, only to find later it is far from God’s will?
How often do we cling to certainty, even when He is whispering correction, calling us to a different road? God’s interruptions are grace. Even when they blind us, they are restoring our vision — vision for His truth, His love, His mission.

While Saul sits in darkness, the story shifts to a man whose name is easy to overlook: Ananias. He is a believer, faithful, but not famous. Not a leader. Not particularly powerful.
God calls him.
“Ananias,” He says.
“Yes, Lord,” Ananias answers.
Then the request comes:
“Go to Saul. Lay your hands on him, that he may regain his sight.”
Ananias hesitates.
Fear rushes in. “Lord,” he says, “I have heard about this man… he has harmed Your people. How can You send me to him?”
And God responds, simply, firmly, patiently:
“Go, for he is My chosen instrument to carry My name before the Gentiles and kings and the people of Israel.”
Ananias doesn’t understand.
He doesn’t know how this will work.
But he obeys.
He steps into fear.
He becomes the hands and voice of God’s mercy.

And in that small obedience, the course of history is changed.

Consider the scene: Saul, lying blind, a heart pounding with confusion and fear. Ananias, trembling, walking into a room that should have been terrifying.

And God moves.

He restores Saul’s sight.
He fills him with the Spirit.
He gives him a new name, a new mission, and a new story.

All because one ordinary man said yes.
All because God refused to let Saul stay blind to His truth.

This story is convicting. It asks something of us:

• Where is God calling you to step, even when it feels risky?
• What fear is keeping you from being part of His redemptive work?
• Who is standing in need of your obedience, your courage, your willingness to say yes?

God’s work is often invisible, quiet, unnoticed — until it bears fruit in ways we never imagined.

Reflection

• Where is God interrupting you? What certainty, routine, or path is He asking you to pause?
• Where is He asking for courage that scares you — a step of obedience that feels too risky?
• Who in your life might be the “Saul” God wants you to reach, touch, speak to, or pray for?
• How can you let God’s mercy intersect with your willingness today?

Take a moment. Close your eyes. Listen.
God is still calling.
He is still inviting.
He is still intervening.

Prayer
Lord, like Saul, I recognize that I am often moving in the wrong direction, convinced of my own understanding. I confess the ways I have pursued what I thought was right but was far from You. Shine Your light into the dark corners of my heart. Expose what is hidden. Restore what is broken.

Lord, like Ananias, give me courage to obey when it is uncomfortable, when it is risky, when I cannot understand. Use me as Your hands and Your voice. Let me step into Your plan with faith and trust, even when fear whispers that it is impossible.

Lord, let Your grace meet my hesitation. Let Your mercy intersect my fear. Open my eyes to see what You see, my heart to feel what You feel, and my hands to do what You call me to do. Rewrite my story, Lord. Transform me, that I may be Your instrument, Your vessel, Your witness in this world. Amen.