Blind but now I See
My mother has macular degeneration. So did her mother. In time, it may well be my plight also. I don’t like it. But it is what it is. Today my niece told us of receiving a letter from the Eye Bank telling her that her husband’s eyes, donated at his recent untimely death had given sight to someone overseas—and to someone in Missouri. What a beautiful legacy. He is gone to us, but somewhere, his life goes on and that is a comfort. In the gospel of John, chapter nine, we read the story of how Jesus healed the blind man. I was struck recently when reading the account, of the part the blind man had played in the event. Jesus, you see, was the source of healing, Jesus was the one who stopped, took the time, and even the risk . . . working on the Sabbath was not allowed . . . Jesus applied the mud, and gave the direction: “Go, Wash in the pool of Siloam.” But only the blind man could respond; could complete the miracle; could be obedient t...