Numbers intrigue me. I love their unique patterns, and I often form numerical equations in my mind to help me remember things: for example, several years ago, I had a phone number that ended in 1339, which, for a “numbers person” make total sense: 1 x 3 = 3, and 3 x 3 = 9. If you’re not a numbers person, you’re saying, “huh?” and if you are a numbers person, you’re thinking, “duh.” Any numbers I hear—ever—go through this process! [By the way: all numbers this week (actually, 4/11-19/14) are the same forward and backward: 4/14/14; 4/15/14; 4/16/14, etc.!]

Now that I’ve let you in on a glimpse of just one odd side of how my mind works (yes, one of many, I’m sure!), you’ll understand my fascination with the fact that as I prepared to read John 14 this morning and first asked for God’s guidance to point me toward a verse, section, principle, or thought to put into action today, I was led to verse fourteen:

John 14:14, NASB: “If you ask Me anything in my name, I will do it.”

Now, lest you think I’m saying it was some “sign” because of the numbers, I’m not. I’m just sharing that it was cool that after I was pointed toward this verse, the irony of the “numerical fascination” made me smile: John is the fourth book of the New Testament; therefore, my verse of application today was 4/14:14; and today is 4/14/14! Again, it has no spiritual significance—it was just a fun nonessential fact about a very essential verse.

So many religious leaders and groups have turned this verse into what is dubbed the “prosperity Gospel” (the bottom line with that way of thinking is most often: love Jesus and be filthy rich) that we often shy away from its powerful truth.

It’s not written in some difficult-to-understand code of numerical (in)significance. Jesus says, “I will do it.” Not “I might”; not, “I’ll think about it.” He says, “I will do it.” And He keeps His word.

So, because Jesus keeps His word, is my faith so small that I am not receiving what I ask, or am I receiving what I ask, but my faith is so small that I can’t see it?”

Lord, my relationship with You too often runs so shallow that I impose my own thoughts and reactions onto You. Yet I come to You today with a sense of longing, imploring You to grant my desire for renewed fellowship and for You to answer, “I will do it.” Lord, I want to know You—not the You I imagine You to be, based on my finite thoughts, but the You Who keeps His word and supersedes those expectations by more than I could ever ask or think.