Four months ago, I heard a sermon on “the blind Bartimeus” and scribbled a note to the friend sitting next to me that said, “I love Bartimeus!” Now I REALLY love Bartimeus, whose story led me further down the road. That blind beggar was (and is) me: one who needs to cry out to Jesus, to weep and even wail for His Mercy to replace my blindness with sight.
I knew I needed to see something that had been hiding, but I didn’t WANT to see it. Apparently, my need for relief had to grow larger than my wanting to deny it. Excruciating physical pain is what forced my hand until, at long last, I cried out like the blind Bartimeus. I begged Jesus to give me sight to see whatever was crouching there, no matter how monstrous. And it was monstrous. And when I saw it, I sorrowed and sorrowed like a faucet turned on full blast.
Today, I am finally out of four months’ pain and, when I opened my Bible this morning, I laughed out loud: there was the story of Bartimeus. I feel bookended by the message. I hear Jesus saying, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.” Lke the woman with the issue of blood who pressed in to receive her healing; like Bartimeus who would not shut up either, I have received sight and am encouraged that it’s A-OK with Jesus for me to press in, to cry out, and to keep on following Him down the road, no matter what.
Can you identify? Chime in if you care to share.