Jesus heals the blind man. He spits on the ground, he creates clay, wipes it over the blind man’s eyes and tells him to go and wash. How many times have I read or heard that story? How many times have I thought how cool is that, and how many times have I not let the story enter the depths of my heart?
Today I read the story again in John 9. I read the words, pondered the meaning, and let the story into my heart. Like most stories about Jesus, there is a depth beyond the simplicity. It is there for the blind to see, if they are willing to listen to Jesus with their heart.
So what was different for me in the story this time? I am struck by the blindness of those who have sight. Jesus refuted the common belief that the man was blind due to some kind of sin, as a form of punishment. Rather, his blindness would be used for good, to point to God. But the sight that was brought to the blind man revealed that blindness comes in many forms. Blindness of the heart, that is much harder to heal, much harder to see.
The story does not say that the man asked to be healed. Jesus put the clay on his eyes and told him to go wash. The man obeyed and thus was healed. If he had not listened or taken the action Jesus requested of him, he would still be blind and there would be no story. Those that knew the man started to question whether or not he was the blind beggar. They did not want to believe what they were seeing. It was easier for them to question what they could see right in front of them than to believe the miracle that had taken place. When the formerly blind man was brought before the Pharisees all that they would see was that it was the Sabbath day and surely one sent by God could not heal on the Sabbath. However, there were some present that wondered in their hearts if that wisdom was true. There were a few that saw with their eyes and believed with their heart. In their blindness and quest for answers that fit their expectations, the Pharisees brought in the blind man’s parents. Afraid for their place in the community and afraid of being thrown out of fellowship, the blind man’s parents, who could clearly see a miracle had happened, refused to give Jesus credit, but told the Pharisees to ask their son instead. They kept their place in the community and the synagogue, but they lost their sight.
The blind man who was no longer blind was brought again before the Pharisees. He refused to be silenced; he refused to hide behind tradition or expectations. His expectations for life had been shattered when the man called Jesus touched his eyes and told him to go wash. Life as he knew it would never be the same and he refused to be silent. He tells the Pharisees “Whether He is a sinner, I do not know; one thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” When questioned again, he pointed out the fact that they would not listen to him, they would not see. Called to the carpet by one they deemed unworthy, the Pharisees wrapped themselves in their expectations and closed their ears, eyes, and hearts to reality.
Knowing his life had been forever altered by the touch of Jesus, the man did not care that he was kicked out of fellowship with his community. He only cared about the one who touched him. He knew who had healed him and he would not be silent. He refused to not tell the truth no matter the consequences.
My sense is that the man followed Jesus for the rest of his days. He knew the change that had been wrought by those hands and he would tell whoever listened. He was a living miracle and a living testament to the healing power of the almighty God.
The miracles that God brought to his life were life changing. I wonder about the miracles that God performs today. I know there have been times when I have not spoken for fear of losing something. In reading these words today, God is impressing on my heart to shout out the blindness he has healed in my heart. He is saying to me to refuse to be silent, refuse to keep the secrets, refuse to conform to expectations. He wants me to see the miracles he has wrought in my life and to share those miracles with whoever will listen. He wants me to spread his healing power and wipe the dust off my feet and move forward when someone refuses to see.
What does the story of Jesus healing the blind man say to you? How does it speak to your heart?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
It is enough...
This summer has been unusual for me in many respects. For one thing, I usually write in the summer, a lot. I haven’t been writing, but rather reading what others have written. More like devouring than reading actually. I have been seeping myself in the words of others and allowing myself to just feel the myriad emotions of each story. I’ve been reading both fiction and non-fiction and looking for clues into myself and trying to refine my own writing through reading well written and not so well written material. I have been refreshed and inspired by the words. They have ministered to my soul.
Secondly, I usually have a huge agenda of stuff I want to complete during the summer and I always push myself to finish everything on that list. I have my list, but I have not been going after it with a vengeance. I’ve crossed several things off of the list, but I’m not stressing over the things that remain. The few times that I’ve started to feel that need to check things off, that still small voice reminds me to do what is important for now. The list is just that, a list… nothing life changing or imperative. It will wait.
This is the summer I decided to take care of me. I’m tired of waiting for the elusive “when life gets less busy” to change my habits. I started an exercise class and have been enjoying every minute of it. I feel my body responding by becoming less stressed. I’m letting out all of the yuck with every exercise session. I’m letting in the healing power by taking care of the temple that God provided me. I’m learning that if I don’t take care of myself, I won’t be able to take care of others well.
I am cleaning out the rooms in the innermost parts of my being. Those rooms that have had the door shut tight, the curtains drawn, the layers upon layers of dust laying deep on the surface, the rooms where the secrets take root and grow in the fertile soil of darkness. The door is unlocked, the curtains are drawn, the light of God is shining into the dark recesses and slowly, I am pulling out the secrets and the lies that have choked off the light to other areas of my life. The light is coming into those dark places and bringing healing and peace. The cleaning has been grueling. Years of neglect have left their mark. Footprints in the dust are not easily wiped away. I’ve had to invite friends in to help me clean out the muck. Sometimes, I think something has been thoroughly cleansed, only to find that I forgot to clean underneath of something lying on a shelf. So I must re-enter the room, pick up the item and clean under it. Often, the item needs to be thrown into the fire of forgiveness in order to bring true cleansing to that room. Each secret, each lie, each new memory brings a new depth of despair, but despair tinged with hope that God will again see me through. It brings hope that the deeper and darker I wander into the dark recesses, the less work there is to do. There aren’t many rooms left, the light is permeating into the cracks and crevices and revealing the work left to be done. I have friends that are more than willing to get dirty with me, to help me wash every surface, to push me on when I am tired and celebrate the shiny new surfaces that each cleaning session reveals.
Summer is for rest, rejuvenation and relaxation. Those things that seem so natural have not been natural for me. I can’t remember a time when I truly relaxed or was not on my guard. God is healing that as well. We went on vacation and I was truly present in the moment and enjoyed every bit of our trip. I didn’t think about what had to be done when we got home. I didn’t worry about things left undone. I just noticed the beauty of God’s creation. I wrapped myself up in my family and felt like I was right where I needed to be. That feeling has not left me. It is new and different and sometimes hard to get used to. I’ve worked, performed, tried to be more than enough for so long that just being is a strange sensation. Good, but strange nonetheless.
God has been preparing me for something down the road. Everything up to this point is leading me where He wants me to be. I have a glimpse of the path; I don’t know the end result. And right now, that is enough.
Secondly, I usually have a huge agenda of stuff I want to complete during the summer and I always push myself to finish everything on that list. I have my list, but I have not been going after it with a vengeance. I’ve crossed several things off of the list, but I’m not stressing over the things that remain. The few times that I’ve started to feel that need to check things off, that still small voice reminds me to do what is important for now. The list is just that, a list… nothing life changing or imperative. It will wait.
This is the summer I decided to take care of me. I’m tired of waiting for the elusive “when life gets less busy” to change my habits. I started an exercise class and have been enjoying every minute of it. I feel my body responding by becoming less stressed. I’m letting out all of the yuck with every exercise session. I’m letting in the healing power by taking care of the temple that God provided me. I’m learning that if I don’t take care of myself, I won’t be able to take care of others well.
I am cleaning out the rooms in the innermost parts of my being. Those rooms that have had the door shut tight, the curtains drawn, the layers upon layers of dust laying deep on the surface, the rooms where the secrets take root and grow in the fertile soil of darkness. The door is unlocked, the curtains are drawn, the light of God is shining into the dark recesses and slowly, I am pulling out the secrets and the lies that have choked off the light to other areas of my life. The light is coming into those dark places and bringing healing and peace. The cleaning has been grueling. Years of neglect have left their mark. Footprints in the dust are not easily wiped away. I’ve had to invite friends in to help me clean out the muck. Sometimes, I think something has been thoroughly cleansed, only to find that I forgot to clean underneath of something lying on a shelf. So I must re-enter the room, pick up the item and clean under it. Often, the item needs to be thrown into the fire of forgiveness in order to bring true cleansing to that room. Each secret, each lie, each new memory brings a new depth of despair, but despair tinged with hope that God will again see me through. It brings hope that the deeper and darker I wander into the dark recesses, the less work there is to do. There aren’t many rooms left, the light is permeating into the cracks and crevices and revealing the work left to be done. I have friends that are more than willing to get dirty with me, to help me wash every surface, to push me on when I am tired and celebrate the shiny new surfaces that each cleaning session reveals.
Summer is for rest, rejuvenation and relaxation. Those things that seem so natural have not been natural for me. I can’t remember a time when I truly relaxed or was not on my guard. God is healing that as well. We went on vacation and I was truly present in the moment and enjoyed every bit of our trip. I didn’t think about what had to be done when we got home. I didn’t worry about things left undone. I just noticed the beauty of God’s creation. I wrapped myself up in my family and felt like I was right where I needed to be. That feeling has not left me. It is new and different and sometimes hard to get used to. I’ve worked, performed, tried to be more than enough for so long that just being is a strange sensation. Good, but strange nonetheless.
God has been preparing me for something down the road. Everything up to this point is leading me where He wants me to be. I have a glimpse of the path; I don’t know the end result. And right now, that is enough.
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