Blind from Birth

Having said these things, he spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam”. John 9:6

“Why God, would you do this to me?” I Stumbled along, cursing and groaning at the pain of the grit grinding and burning under my eyelids. With every stagger grains of sand and flecks of mineral clawed at my useless eyes. Tears ran down my face mixing with the drying spit on my cheek. Rage for the man who had done this to me and the agony of having the faintest hope shatter into another filthy trick played by hateful humans radiated from me. Shrieking children dove away as I crashed my way towards the pool.

“Go wash yourself in the pool”. How could he be so calm and sound so gentle while handing me the nastiest trick I could imagine?

The pain stabbed my eyeballs as I slammed into the corner of each familiar building, crashing into them instead of my normal cautious fumbling along. The scraping torture in my eyes blinded me to my bleeding knuckles hitting stone walls and shins finding every low obstacle. Inside the pain boiled an exploding confusion and fury at this man who claimed to be God but turned my hope for healing into torment.

When I finally felt the steps downward beneath my feet I dove recklessly towards any kind of relief. Anything to get the fire of Christs cruel spit out of my eyes. My elbow smashed into the stone corner as I splashed in, ignoring the laughter from the men sitting poolside.

I rested my head under, gently letting the cold water filter in and the pain soak away. Rest.

The first thing I ever saw was light. The sunbeams flirted in and out of the ripples on the surface and then drifted down to bounce across the stone on the bottom of the pool. Gigantic Diamonds of sunshine worth more than a cart of gold to a man who had never seen them.

The pain of the sand, the bleeding elbow, and battered, torn shins were forgotten in the beauty of seeing at last. For a moment under the water the God I had begged as a child and cursed as an adult held me close and washed away the agony of twenty-nine years of utter darkness. The lifetime of confusion, terror, frustration, and furious bitterness at my Creator sank down to burn in the flickering flames of the sun around my feet.

The moments after gasping up from underwater are a blur of racing through the streets, looking for a man I would recognize only by the sound of his voice. No desire to stop and soak in all the things I had only smelled, heard, touched, or tasted. Only time to rush headlong down those same paths seeking one face out of all the faces I had never seen. The recklessness of pain had been replaced by a reckless need for answers. The confusion of his shocking cruelty was conquered by shocked wonder at why one would do a miraculous work and then disappear.

“Why God, would you do this to me?”

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