Introduction

If you could hear Jesus ask you one question today—face to face, heart to heart—what would you hope He’d ask? And if He asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” what would rise to your lips before you could filter it—before fear, pride, or past disappointments edited your answer?

Some of us carry hurts that we’ve grown accustomed to, like an old coat with frayed cuffs—familiar, but not fitting. Others shoulder quiet longings: a healed relationship, a wayward child returned, a heart set free from worry, a soul stitched back together by mercy. We’ve prayed. We’ve waited. We’ve worn thin the rug by the bed. And still, He comes near, still He stoops low, still He asks: “What do you want me to do for you?”

E.M. Bounds wrote, “God shapes the world by prayer.” —E.M. Bounds. If that’s true—and Scripture says it is—then your honest answer to Jesus matters. Not a polished answer, not a churchy answer, but the one that aches in the quiet. He is not put off by your pain; He is not perplexed by your past; He is not pressured by your timeline. He is present. He is patient. He is powerful.

In the story before us, the crowd tried to hush the blind man. Hushed prayers, hushed praise, hushed hope. But the man cried louder. And when Jesus heard him, He stopped. The Prince of Peace paused for one pleading voice. What a Savior. He draws out true desire. He invites faith to speak plainly. And where there is trust and obedience, transformation follows like sunrise after the longest night.

So, as we come to this text, let the noise fall quiet for a moment. Let your soul speak up. Say the thing you’ve been afraid to say. Ask the thing you’ve been afraid to ask. The same Jesus who walked the Jericho road walks your street today, and He is not far from any of us.

Scripture Reading: Luke 18:35–43 (ESV) 35 As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging. 36 And hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what this meant. 37 They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” 38 And he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 39 And those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 40 And Jesus stopped and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he came near, he asked him, 41 “What do you want me to do for you?” He said, “Lord, let me recover my sight.” 42 And Jesus said to him, “Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.” 43 And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.

Opening Prayer: Lord Jesus, You who stop for the cry of one, stop for us now. Quiet our scattered thoughts, calm our anxious hearts, and tune our ears to Your voice. Ask us Your question, and give us courage to answer honestly. Where desire has grown dull, awaken it. Where faith has grown faint, strengthen it. Where obedience feels heavy, help us to take the next step. We believe You are able; we believe You are willing. Speak, Lord, and let Your mercy make us whole. In Your mighty name we pray, Amen.

Jesus draws out true desire

When the Lord comes near in this passage, He does not rush. He does not hand out a quick fix and move on. He asks a real question. It sounds simple. It is not small. It reaches the core of a person. It draws the heart into the light. He wants the man to say what he longs for. He wants the man to bring his will and his words together.

That question matters because it gathers scattered wants into one clear request. The man could have spoken about his poverty. He could have asked for coins. He could have asked for a place to sleep. He could have asked for relief from many hard things. But when asked, he names what sits deepest. He asks for sight.

There is grace in naming. Vague wishes keep us safe. Clear words feel risky. Saying it out loud feels like stepping off a ledge. Yet that is where faith finds a voice. God works with words. He calls light out of darkness. He shapes lives through promises and prayers. When you speak a clear request, you place your desire into His hands. You stop managing your own hopes. You say, Here it is.

This is how we pray through this text. We do not hide behind general phrases. We come with plain speech. We say, Heal my body. Set me free from this fear. Bring my child home. Break this habit. Give me wisdom for this hard choice. Restore joy. Teach me to forgive. Name it. Say it with your own mouth. It is not about perfect sentences. It is about letting the Lord meet you in what you truly want.

And in that moment, notice how the Lord treats the man. He does not mock the request. He does not ask for a reason why he deserves it. He does not toss out a test. He honors the courage it takes to speak. He meets straight talk with mercy and power. That is where many of us get stuck. We expect a lecture. He offers help.

The man does not address Jesus like a stranger. He uses a royal title. He speaks to the promised king. He asks for mercy, not status. That tells us something about the posture of faith. It is bold and humble at the same time. It reaches high because it knows who Jesus is. It bows low because it knows what we are.

Calling Him by that title is not about fancy words. It is about trust in God’s long plan. The man is blind, but he sees this much: the promises are arriving in this Person. The covenant hope of rescue and healing stands right in front of him. That is why he cries out for mercy. Mercy fits the moment. Mercy fits our state. Mercy is what we need when we bring our truest wants to God.

Mercy also sets the frame for our requests today. We ask for good gifts, but we come as people who live by grace. We do not bargain. We do not posture. We do not compare our pain with someone else’s pain to make a case. We appeal to the heart of Christ. We throw ourselves on His kindness. That frees the heart. You can ask big things without swagger. You can ask small things without shame. You can keep asking because His throne is not cold.

Notice also how the man refuses to measure his request by the mood of the crowd. Many voices pressed around him. Some tried to quiet him. He did not let other people set the ceiling of his faith. He kept calling. He would not step back from the thing he most needed. He would not trade a deep request for a safer one.

There is so much to learn here. There will always be reasons to shrink your prayers. Time goes by. People do not understand. You get tired. You feel foolish. You wonder if you should stop asking. But the text gives us a picture of steady desire. It is not loud for the sake of being loud. It is focused. It keeps reaching toward Jesus. It keeps speaking. It will not be turned aside by hard stares or long delays.

You can practice that in quiet ways. Keep a list and note the date you first asked. Speak the same request again tomorrow. Bring friends into it so they can carry it when you feel weak. Tie your request to Scripture so your heart has rails to run on when feelings fade. Simple steps like that keep desire alive when noise and numbness creep in. Let the Word shape your asking. Let the Spirit help your weakness. Keep going.

We should not miss what happens next. Jesus stops. He calls for the man. He asks the question. He grants the request. Then He names what He sees: faith. Not a vague mood. Not wishful thinking. Faith. It is trust that takes shape in words and in movement toward Him. It is confidence that He can and that He is good.

And then there is sight. Real change. Eyes open. The man does not disappear into the crowd at that point. He does not return to the old corner. He stays near Jesus. He gives thanks with his whole self. Praise rises. Others notice. A whole group of people ends up honoring God because one man told the truth about what he wanted and would not quit.

That is the ripple effect of honest prayer in the presence of Jesus. It begins with a question. It continues with a clear request. It leads to a new life that points back to God. When He works, gratitude does not stay quiet. Gratitude moves your feet. It pulls you into following. It puts a song in your mouth that helps other people find words too.

This is where desire matures. It starts as a cry for help. It grows into obedience. It becomes a way of life. The same Lord who asks what you want also asks you to come along with Him. He answers and then He leads. He meets the need and then He shapes the next steps. That is not harsh. That is kindness. He gives sight, and then He gives a path to walk with new eyes.

So if you are reading this passage and wondering how to pray, start where the man started. Address Jesus as the true King. Ask for mercy. Speak the deepest need. Hold to it when other voices press in. Expect Him to act. And when He does, follow. Let thanks spill out. Let praise spread. Let your healed place become a witness to His name.

Faith speaks clearly to His question

Hear the question in the street: “What do you want me to do for you?” It comes after footsteps and shouts and the sudden stillness when Jesus stops ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO