Go down again

Go Down Again

Naaman stood proud, cloaked in valor, wrapped in robes of rank and ribbons—

But beneath the armor, beneath the victories, beneath the applause of men,

There it was: the rot, the shame—leprosy.

He had gold. He had horses.

He had letters from kings.

He had everything—except the one thing he needed: a miracle.

And so he came,

To dusty roads and unfamiliar prophets.

No fanfare. No waving hand. No dramatic spectacle.

Just a word:

“Go. Wash in the Jordan. Seven times.”

Seven.

Not once.

Not twice.

Not even thrice.

But seven.

Down.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Can you hear the war in his soul?

The rage of pride colliding with the whisper of obedience?

How foolish it seemed to dip in dirty water

When cleaner rivers ran in his homeland.

How humiliating to be made low,

To undress in front of servants,

To shed not just garments but dignity—

To stoop, to surrender, to trust.

But the word burned in his bones.

So he went down.

Once — Nothing changed.

Twice — Still a leper.

Three times — The doubts roared louder.

Four — Surely this is nonsense.

Five — Heaven was silent.

Six — The temptation to walk away was deafening.

But he went down again.

Seventh.

And Heaven moved.

Skin like a child’s.

Flesh, whole.

Heart, humbled.

Soul, awakened.

Because God was waiting—not in the first dip, not in the second—but in the seventh.

Not in the convenience.

Not in the comfortable.

Not in the logic.

But in the obedience.

There are promises that unlock only after the final surrender.

There is a God who meets us not halfway but all the way through our obedience.

But you have to go down.

Again.

So go.

With trembling hands and faltering faith,

With wounds you’re weary of carrying,

With prayers you’ve prayed a thousand times,

With hope that’s only a flicker.

Go down again.

To your knees.

To the secret place.

To the Jordan of your own brokenness.

To the altar of unseen answers.

Because He’s still waiting—

Not in the giving up,

But in the going back.

Not in the shortcut,

But in the seventh wash.

Go down again.

Until He moves.

Until He speaks.

Until He heals.

Until He comes.

Because your miracle is coming.

And God will be there.

Just like He promised.