This Week's Devo

 No Tryouts Required

The joy of belonging to the One who welcomes everyone who calls

Romans 10:9–13

I loved softball as a young girl.

I loved the satisfaction of connecting the bat with the ball and sending it into the outfield. I loved that green light to run, the bases waiting to be conquered, and the thrill of crossing home plate. For a moment, I was the hero. My teammates could see exactly why they needed me.

There was just one problem.

I hated the outfield.

I know. Kind of a problem when half the game requires you to be somewhere other than the batter’s box.

While I had no trouble swinging at an oncoming ball, catching one was another matter entirely. What if I misjudged it? What if it smacked me in the face? Worse yet, what if everyone discovered that I was terrible at catching?

One missed ball, and I could practically hear it: “Jodi, head out to right field.”

The relative quiet out there calmed my nerves, but in my young mind, the assignment carried a message: We don’t trust you where it matters.

It felt like kickball at recess all over again. Waiting to be picked. Hoping someone saw enough potential to call my name. Wondering whether my shortcomings would leave me standing there after everyone else had found a place.

I wanted to belong. I just wasn’t sure I could perform well enough to keep my spot.

We grow up, but sometimes that little girl follows us.

She walks into unfamiliar rooms, compares herself with other women, volunteers for one more responsibility, and wonders whether anyone would still want her around if they knew where she struggled.

Perhaps you know her. Or perhaps your version is a little boy who learned early that acceptance depended on what he could contribute.

We become very good at appearing capable while quietly fearing that someone will discover we are not worth the pick.

People can be cruel with that fear. We hand out approval as though we have the authority to assign someone’s worth. But our Creator never gave us that authority. Being overlooked by people cannot erase the value of someone made in God’s image.

And when it comes to salvation, Romans 10 gives us a promise that cuts through the anxiety of measuring up:

“Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Everyone.

Let that word settle for a moment.

Paul does not say everyone who proves useful, everyone with an impressive history, or everyone who can catch the ball. He says everyone who calls upon the Lord.

In verse 12, he explains that there is no distinction between Jew and Gentile. The same Lord is Lord of all and generously blesses all who call upon Him. Heritage does not create a privileged path to salvation. Everyone comes through the same Savior.

After the difficult questions of Romans 9, what a joyful promise to hold onto. We do not have to solve every mystery of God’s sovereign purposes before trusting His invitation.

Everyone who calls will be saved.

Calling upon Him is more than reciting the right words. Verses 9–10 connect that confession with genuine faith: believing that God raised Jesus from the dead and confessing Him as Lord. We come trusting who Jesus is and what He has done, surrendering our claim that we can save ourselves.

Faith brings us to the Savior whose work is sufficient.

And then comes this assurance:

“Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.”

That does not mean following Jesus will spare us every embarrassing moment or protect us from human rejection. It means our trust in Him will never prove misplaced. We will never discover that His promise was empty or that He cannot save those who depend upon Him.

Can you imagine the relief?

No anxious audition. No desperate attempt to hide every weakness before approaching Him. No waiting until you have become impressive enough to ask for a place.

You can call upon Him now.

And if you already belong to Christ, you can stop living as though every dropped ball sends you back to the sidelines to await another evaluation.

He will correct you. He will grow you. Following Him will require obedience and surrender. But you are not purchasing belonging through flawless performance. You are learning to live from the belonging He has already given you.

There is joy in that kind of security. Joy that frees us to confess our failures, receive correction, and celebrate someone else’s gifts without fearing that their strengths diminish our place.

There is room to grow when we are no longer spending all our energy trying to prove we deserve to be here.

That little girl standing in right field wanted someone to see beyond what she could do and still want her close.

In Christ, we find something far greater than a captain willing to overlook a weak player. We find a Savior who knows our sin, bore it on the cross, and welcomes us through faith in Him.

You do not need to become worth saving before calling upon Jesus.

You need the Savior.

So stop waiting in line, wondering whether you will ever be good enough for Him to call your name.

Call upon His.

Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

And everyone includes you.