Friday, May 24, 2013

My Story

I stood before the courtroom, confused and a bit shaken.  Just a few simple questions, they said.  All they wanted was for me to help find the man, and possibly help them understand more about him.  But one by one they began asking me question after question.  

“Who do you think this man is?”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“What kind of man is he?”

You’d think such a prominent council of men would not need to call someone like me in to answer these questions.  Surely such a group could gather this information without my help.  Not that I was any help anyway- I didn’t have the slightest clue what the answers to their questions were.  In fact, I never even laid eyes on the man.

My confusion at the situation turned into anger when I saw my parents brought into the courtroom.  The council continued with their questioning, only this time directed at my parents.  Whether out of ignorance or fear I was not quite sure, but they did not answer the questions of the council- instead, they turned the questioning back over to me.

I already told them everything I knew, but they would not listen.  I spoke the truth of what happened, but still they wanted more.  That’s when I knew- these questions were not out of curiosity.  These questions were designed to implicate someone.  The man.  They wanted to find this man guilty without a trial...and they wanted my words to seal the case.

It was as if the very bones in my body started crying out.  How could I speak anything against this man?  I came in here knowing so little, but slowly it is becoming clear to me.

All my life I lived in darkness.  As a blind child, people often overlooked me, or treated me as if my mind was handicapped.  But I listened and heard everything people said to me.  It did not get any easier as I grew- blind men do not easily find work.  So I spent my days near the temple, hoping for someone to toss a few coins my way.  But I also listened.  The rumors; the whispers; the things people say when they assume the blind man cannot hear or comprehend.  

That’s how I first heard his name.

It was quite exciting at first.  People wanted to see him and know more about him.  They talked openly about this man.  But then slowly his name was only said in hushed voices.  The feeling of joy was slowly being replaced by the feeling of fear.  But I did not stop listening.

Until one day.  That one day.  

I didn’t even realize who it was.  Sure I heard them talking- debating you might even call it.  But the voices got closer to me...and that one voice got so close I could feel his breath on my face.  With one swift move of his hand he put something on my eyes.  Then he told me to go and wash it off.  

So I did.  

And my eyes opened.

For the first time in my life I could see.  Trees.  Sun.  Water.  I had to keep closing my eyes and using my other senses to confirm what these things were that I had never seen before.  I, the blind man, could see.  But I never even got to see his face.

And now here I am, trying to be trapped into saying something that could convict this man.  To find fault with the man who gave me everything.  
Was he a sinner?  Was he a prophet?  Did he break some ancient law and should thus be brought to justice?  I have no idea.  I am no philosopher.  I am no great thinker.  Until today, I could not even tell you the color of the sky.

But make no mistake...there is one thing I do know.  One thing that you can never take away from me- the only thing that will ever matter to me.  And it was because of Him.

I once was blind...but now I SEE.


I wrote this as an adaptation of the story in the Bible found in John chapter 9.  It is one of my favorite stories in Scripture because it catches the very essence of what it means to know Jesus. 

I don’t know much of anything.  In fact, as I have said before, the more I go through life the less I seem to know.  But I do know who I once was and where I once came from.  I was blind.  I was lost.  I was a creature separated from my creator.  But then Jesus found me.  With the swift move of His he offered it out to me- and when I took that hand, my eyes opened.  

When I get confused and the voices all around me start to challenge who I am or what I am doing, I simply step back and remember the one thing I know.  Because it is the one thing that matters.

“One thing I do know: I once was blind but now I see.”  John 9:25


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