What Shall I Do, Lord?

Dust covered his feet and his face.
The road to Damascus, rutted and
unfriendly, scarred by chariot wheels and
columns of smart stepping Roman elite,
stretched into the distance before him.
Saul was deep in thought when the
brilliant flash of light struck, knocking him
to the ground where he curled into a
fetal knot.

“Get up, Saul, get up and tell me why you
persecute me.”  The disembodied voice
seemed to come from the clear morning
sky but no one, neither Saul nor his
traveling companions, could see the
attacker.  “Who are you?” Saul’s voice
cracked from dust and terror.  It was
in this moment that Saul realized he
was sightless, blinded by the blazing
light.  Even if someone stood in front
of him, Saul could not make out a
face or physical features.

“My name is Jesus,” the voice replied.
Saul knew instantly who he was.  The
imposter, charlatan, fraud, the one
whose friends were the targets of
Saul’s vengeance.  Now, blinded,
kneeling in the dust, afraid for his
life, Saul gathered his courage:
“What do you want me to do, Lord?”

Hear again the question that spilled
from Saul’s dry mouth.  “What do you
want me to do?”  To do.  An action.
Something tangible.  What to do, not
how shall I be?  Not “What should I
believe?”  The answer:  “Get up, go
to Damascus and there you will be
told everything that has been assigned
for you to do.”  To do.  Actions.  Practical,
everyday living.

Saul’s life changed that day.  He
exchanged one way of living, violence
and hate, for a different way of living,
love and service.  Merely believing
is apparently not as important as
what one does for the Voice that
speaks from the sky or from the heart.