When he walked by he saw the blind man.

He saw him. How many others had looked at him, glanced his way, or stared assuming he’d never know? Morning and evening, day after day, they passed him on their way to market or the fields or perhaps the temple. Occasionally they’d toss a pity coin his way.

I wonder what went through his mind when he heard Jesus spit. I wonder if he noticed him kneeling down.

Did he jump when Jesus laid mud on his face?

Maybe Jesus wasn’t the first to spit at his feet. It was sin that brought this on, right? Perhaps Blessed are you Lord God, King of the Universe, that I am not like this blind man, had become a frequent utterance of the religious passerby.

But today was different.

The man who had never seen

encountered the One Who Sees.

…

He was anointed.

Sent.

He washed.

And he received His sight.

…

He {the one blind his entire life} received his sight.

He received {he wasn’t even asking for it} his sight.

He received his sight {aaaa-mazing!}.

…

Day after day, year after year he had received pity, shame, and judgement attached to the coins dropped in his hand.

Today he received his sight. And it came at a price. His parents denied him, and the religious leaders kicked him out.

But, Jesus found him again.

And ironically, this day saw the blind one see, while the seeing lost the sight they never had to begin with.

And eternity

will never be the same.

[v. to depend or turn on]

It was then that the unexpected came. After Bishop Kolini had finished, I stood back. There were so many wanting to meet him. But Ken saw us and motioned for us forward. I was hopefully apprehensive.

Before I could squeak out anything but “hi”, I was wrapped in a giant, teddy bear hug from the right as I awkwardly attempted to shake his hand with my left. I knew I was welcome in his presence. He liked having me there.

Let’s go back a few minutes, to the last of Bishop’s sharing… In anticipation of the possibility of meeting the bishop I had wracked my brain for a question to ask. I wanted to have an actual conversation, not just exchange greetings. If I were honest, I’d say Father must have dropped the question into my mind. He knew exactly what was about to take place.

“You said that at one point you had been asking God ten questions. I wouldn’t presume to ask you what those questions were, but I would like to know:

What questions would you,

as our Bishop,

like us to be asking God?”

That was my question. Pretty good, huh? I thought so. But he didn’t actually answer it (and you won’t hear me complaining!).

Bishop took my hands in his and looked genuinely into my eyes as he spoke.

Words of life, words of hope, words of vision from Father into the depths of me.

…

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord…And he touched my mouth…And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I! Send me.’ ”
…

It was a chronicle of the season I’ve been walking in for months (and evidently will continue to walk in the days to come). It was a glimpse at the horizon of my destiny. Amidst the grieving of this season of life, God Almighty has opened my eyes to see Him. He is cleansing and releasing the voice He placed in me. And He will send me with a story to tell.

It was, what I thought to be, an ordinary Wednesday. It was anything but ordinary. This particular day would prove to hold a defining moment for me. It was the day I met Archbishop Emanuel Kolini, an anointed man of God, incredibly tender-hearted and immensely strong. He traveled from his home in Rwanda to be with us, a ragged people, gathered under the wing of the Anglican Mission.

Bishop Kolini spoke of suffering, wealth, joy and idols in his beautiful Rwandan accent. I was hungry for the wisdom that seemed to emanate from him like dripping honey. At one point he expressed his heart of utter surrender to God, saying,

“I will go through valleys and up

mountains to obey you.

Beyond them there is joy.”

I knew these weren’t just words, they were words of knowing. Bishop Kolini admonished us to live in a posture that brings us to cry out,

“Lord, when I am enjoying

wealth

let me not abandon you!”

He spoke of the idols of American culture: sexuality, the intellect, and our heart of stone.  I took in his words like they were air. He spoke such refreshing truth, drawing our eyes to the face of God. But it was only the beginning.