Week 7 Tuesday — Walking with the Word
Tuesday: The God Who Answers the Cry - Luke 18:1-8
Tuesday: The God Who Answers the Cry - Luke 18:1-8
Introduction
Jesus tells this parable for a specific person.
Not for the one whose prayers have been answered quickly and whose faith has never been tested by a long wait. Not for the one who came to God with a need and found resolution before the week was out. This parable is for the one who has been crying for a long time. The one who rose before dawn and is still rising before dawn. The one whose need has not diminished and whose God has not yet answered in the way they desperately hoped He would.
Jesus tells this parable, Luke says, so that they would pray and not lose heart.
The widow in the story has nothing. No power. No leverage. No impressive credentials to present to the judge. No connections, no influence, no ability to make him act. She has exactly one thing: a need and a refusal to be silent about it. She comes. And comes again. And comes again. Not because she is confident the judge is good — he isn’t, and she knows it. But because she has nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose and the need is still real and she will not stop.
Jesus holds her up as the model of faith.
Not the triumphant arrival. Not the answered prayer. The coming. The persistent, shameless, relentless coming to the one who can help when there is no one else who can.
And then He makes the turn that changes everything. If even an unjust judge will eventually answer a persistent widow — how much more will a God who loves His children, who hears every cry, who does not sleep through the night watches, give justice to the ones who cry to Him day and night?
The psalmist rose before dawn. The widow kept coming. And Jesus asks the question that reframes both of them — and all of us who are somewhere in the middle of a long wait: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
This morning, in whatever dark you are sitting in — let your answer be yes.
Scripture
¹ And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. ² He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected man. ³ And there was a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’ ⁴ For a while he refused, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor respect man, ⁵ yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.’” ⁶ And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge says. ⁷ And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? ⁸ I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
— Luke 18:1-8 (ESV)
Reflection
Pray and Not Lose Heart
Luke tells us exactly why Jesus told this parable: “And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart” (v. 1). Not sometimes pray. Not pray when circumstances are favorable or when faith feels strong or when the answer seems likely. Always pray. And the companion to always pray is not lose heart — because the two are inseparable. The reason people stop praying is not usually theology. It is exhaustion. It is the long wait that wears you down until the gap between what you asked for and what has arrived feels too wide to keep crossing on your knees.
Jesus knows that. He tells this parable precisely because He knows what the long wait does to people. He knows the pre-dawn darkness. He knows the night watches. He knows what it costs to keep coming when the answer hasn’t arrived and the need hasn’t diminished and hope is running on fumes. And His response to all of that is not a theological explanation. It is a story about a woman who would not stop.
The widow has nothing working in her favor except one thing — she keeps coming. No power, no leverage, no impressive credentials. Just a need and a refusal to be silent. She is not eloquent. She is not strategic. She is persistent. And Jesus holds her up and says: this is what faith looks like in the long wait. Not triumphant arrival. Not answered prayer. The coming. The relentless, shameless, I-have-nowhere-else-to-go coming. Pray and not lose heart means come and keep coming — not because you feel strong enough to keep coming but because the need is real and God is the only one who can meet it.
Will He Not Give Justice?
The parable turns on a contrast that should settle something in every heart that has been crying through the night watches. The judge in the story is explicitly unjust — he neither fears God nor respects man. He has no interest in the widow’s case. He answers her for one reason only: to stop being bothered. And yet even he eventually gives her what she needs.
Then Jesus draws the contrast: “And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily” (vv. 7-8). If an unjust judge who doesn’t care will answer a persistent widow — how much more will a God who loves His children, who hears every word of every pre-dawn cry, who numbers the hairs on our heads and collects our tears, give justice to the ones who will not stop calling on His name?
The psalmist on Monday appealed to God’s steadfast love: “Hear my voice according to your steadfast love.” That is exactly the point Jesus is making here. We are not coming to an unjust judge who has to be worn down. We are coming to a Father who loved us enough to send His Son, a God whose ear is already inclined toward us before we open our mouths. The widow had to overcome the judge’s indifference. We have no such obstacle. The door is already open. The Father is already listening. The only question is whether we will keep coming.
Will He Find Faith?
Jesus closes the parable with a question that lands differently depending on where you are: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (v. 8). It sounds almost pessimistic at first — as though Jesus is not sure the answer will be yes. But read in context it is something else entirely. It is a reframing of what faith actually looks like.
Faith is not the absence of desperation. Faith is not the confident smile of someone whose prayers have all been answered on time. Faith — the faith Jesus is looking for when He returns — looks like a widow who will not stop coming to the judge. It looks like a psalmist rising before dawn, crying through the night watches, losing sleep over what he cannot fix and bringing it to the only One who can. It looks like a whole heart offered up in the dark with nothing held back and nowhere else to go.
The persistent cry is not the failure of faith. It is faith. The pre-dawn prayer is not desperation without hope. It is hope that has decided to outlast the darkness no matter how long the darkness lasts. When the Son of Man comes, the faith He is looking for is not the faith that never had to wait — it is the faith that waited and did not stop coming.
This morning the widow is still at the door. The psalmist is still before dawn. And the question is still open: When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?
Let your answer be yes.
“And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? He will give justice to them speedily.” — This is the way.
Prayer Prompt
Lord, I come to You today like the widow. Not with impressive credentials or carefully constructed arguments. Not with a track record of answered prayers to point to or a confidence born from circumstances working in my favor. I come with a need and a refusal to stop coming. That is all I have today. I pray it is enough.
Thank You that I am not coming to an unjust judge who has to be worn down. The door is already open. Your ear is already inclined. Forgive me for the times I have approached You as though You needed to be convinced. You are not the judge in the parable. You are the Father who was already watching the road.
And Lord — I confess that there are places where I have been losing heart. Where the long wait has done its quiet work on me and the gap between what I asked for and what has arrived has begun to feel too wide to keep crossing. I don’t want to stop coming. I don’t want to lose heart. But I am tired, Lord. The night has been long. The dawn has not yet broken in the ways I have been praying for.
So I bring You the widow’s prayer today — not eloquent, not strategic, just persistent. I will not stop coming. Not because I feel strong enough to keep coming but because You are the only one who can help and I know it. Keep the faith alive in me that You are looking for when You return — the faith that waited and did not stop coming.
When the Son of Man comes, let Him find it here. In me. Still at the door. Amen.
Response
Pray and Not Lose Heart: Jesus told this parable for the person in the long wait — the one whose need hasn’t diminished and whose answer hasn’t arrived. Where are you in danger of losing heart right now? Name it honestly. Then read Luke 18:1-8 slowly, out loud if possible, and let Jesus tell you directly what He told the disciples: pray and do not lose heart. Not because the answer is coming tomorrow. Because the God you are coming to is already leaning toward you. Come today. Come tomorrow. Keep coming.
Will He Not Give Justice? The widow had to overcome the judge’s indifference. You have no such obstacle. The contrast Jesus draws is not subtle — if even an unjust judge answers persistent crying, how much more will a loving Father give justice to the ones who cry to Him day and night? Take the specific need you have been bringing to God — the one that has been in the night watches with you — and bring it again today. Not with resignation. With the confidence of someone coming to a Father who is already listening. Write down one thing you know to be true about God’s character that gives you reason to keep coming.
Will He Find Faith? Jesus’s closing question reframes what faith actually looks like in the long wait. Not triumphant arrival. Not answered prayer. The coming. The persistent, I-have-nowhere-else-to-go, will-not-stop coming. Examine your own faith today — not its strength or its eloquence but its persistence. Are you still coming? Is the door still being knocked on? If the answer has grown quiet, start again today. One prayer. One knock. One more time before dawn. When the Son of Man comes, let Him find it here. In you. Still at the door. - This is The Way
To read all the posts in this devotional series, visit: Walking with the Word — Psalm 119
© Steve Peschke / This Is The Way