The Evidence Speaks

This past weekend I had the privilege of taking a break. My sweet husband gave me the gift of time away from responsibility, so I did what my nerdy-self loves best: I tucked away into a bookstore by a window, complete with my hot cup of coffee--Cafe Verona (my coffee-snob-self's favorite blend), my headphones, my journal, and my Bible. I couldn't remember the last time that I didn't have a major "to-do" list. My family has been so busy recently with moving, overtime, major church events, and more.

 I confessed to the Lord that morning that I didn't know how to stop moving long enough to relax and be still. I started to write in my journal, but nothing would come out of my head. I felt like a tangled mess with no concrete thought. As I confessed that to the Lord in prayer, I decided that I would just be. I wouldn't try to write or think, I would just enjoy the moment looking out a window and listening to my music (Vienna Teng playlist on Pandora).

After a short time, I felt myself relax. I felt myself breathe. I allowed myself to just be and enjoy the stillness. I relished the fact that I was still capable of relaxing. As I allowed the music to wrap around me like a blanket, I felt more and more inflated within. I felt more full and less drained. I opened my Bible and continued my journey reading through the Gospels.

I was in John 9 that particular morning. I absolutely love Scripture. My entire being has been transformed over the last 10 years of studying God's word. I am not who I was when I first turned to Christ, praise Him for it. I love that I can never boast in my familiarity of Scripture because it is so dynamic. The Word is living and active, and is the breath of God into us. We can drink deep and never feel guilty for over-indulging. I love that I can read a passage for the very first time, then over and over again, and still be refreshed by it with something new that the Lord has to say to me.

 This particular day, as I studied John 9, I was blown away by the story told. A man was born blind, and Jesus' disciples asked Jesus what most people asked as they passed by that man every day: what did that man do, or what did his parents do, that was so terrible that he deserved to be blind?

Stop there for a moment with me. Don't we do that? We are hardwired to assume that sickness, heartache, tragedy, and more are a payback from karma for something that we did horribly wrong. Jesus, as is beautifully typical, looks as His disciples and turns their assumption on its head. Jesus simply replies, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned [...] but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him" (John 9:3, NIV).

 I'd like to point out that the day prior to me reading this passage, I received a phone call from my best friend--a sucker punch of a phone call informing that her husband had a tumor that is most likely cancerous. What do you say in that moment? We cried together, I did my best to muster up more than a pitiful, "I'm so sorry." Reading John 9 hit a chord with me Saturday morning.

 Jesus went to the blind man in his darkness and spit in the dirt, proceeding to put the mud on the man's eyes. Wait a minute. Imagine that! You're blind. You were born blind, and have never seen a physical person. You beg, living off of the mercy of others to sustain you because you have no other option. And a stranger that you can't see spits in the dirt and puts that on your eyes. Umm...my immediate instinct is to say, "Yuck!" and be completely repulsed. However, this man received what Jesus offered, as bizarre and quite frankly messy as it was. He listened when Jesus said to go to the pool of Siloam and wash his eyes. He trusted and responded. As a result, his sight was restored. People began to talk and question if it was a hoax of some kind. Maybe this wasn't the same man. However, the man's own parents stepped up and acknowledged that it was in fact their son, and yes he had been born blind, and yes he could now see.

 The Pharisees in their rage questioned the man amid threats of him being thrown out of the synagogue---a disgrace to any Jew. Upon questioning, he acknowledged his own doubts. He claims that Jesus is a prophet. His own parents leave him hanging, telling him that he's a grown up and must take responsibility for what he says about Jesus. They didn't want to risk losing their spot in the synagogue. This man was verbally abused and mocked by the Pharisees (so much for a "congratulations on the restoration of your sight"). Finally, the man looks at the Pharisees and declares, "Whether he is a sinner or not, I do not know. One thing I do know, I was blind and now I see!" (John 9:25, NIV). He had questions. He didn't know for sure that Jesus was the sinless Son of God, the Savior that He claimed to be. However, he did have the evidential support of what had been accomplished in his life.

 Looking further, we see that the man sustained even more injury from the Pharisees who cornered him and continued to hurl insults upon him as one of Jesus' disciples. The man dared to stand up to the Pharisees and boldly declared, at the risk of all he had, “Now that is remarkable! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners. He listens to the godly person who does his will. Nobody has ever heard of opening the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing" (John 9:30-33, NIV). I could not help but think of my own life when I read this man's testimony of God's grace and healing in his life.

I confess that I have doubts. Sometimes doubts wash over me like a sea squall, suddenly and out of nowhere. I sometimes ask hard questions like, "Am I just buying into this 'faith stuff' to make sense of pain? To make myself feel better when life hurts? To make up hope so that it isn't purposeless?" Am I crazy to assume that I am not the only one with questions? However, the evidence speaks. My life was what I in my southern-mannerisms call a "hot mess" ten years ago. I was depressed, battling an eating disorder, angry, "good" on the surface, drowning on the inside. I couldn't handle the brokenness occurring within my family.

When I encountered Jesus and surrendered to him, I felt like I could see for the very first time. It was as if I was dead and someone literally breathed into me and I took my first real breath. Things weren't suddenly easy as a new believer; in fact, many problems, especially within my family, got worse. However, something inside of me was changed. I began to be healed, I began to learn to forgive, to love. Ten years later, here I am. I can't always make sense of Jesus. I can't always wrap my head around the truth of the Gospel. But I can say that that I was blind, and now I see. I can say that if Jesus were not from God, He could do nothing. I can say that the evidence speaks. How about you? Are there places in your life that God has so clearly worked that it assuages doubt in your heart and mind?