As trees walking.

(I said in my very first blog post that "Brokenness Aside" was mainly to give me a space, a way to organize what I write on different topics. Well, I write when things impact me: an experience, a verse, a conversation. Anything that I need structure to process.

I wrote this last year, during my third year, based off of a lectura divina exercise we did in my Psychology of Spirituality class. In lectura divina, a passage of Scripture is read several times; the listener is to absorb it, to see themselves in the story, to let it be that two-edged sword. In this particular case, I found it quite powerful.) 

Everyone is familiar with the story of Jesus healing the blind man. He took him out of the village, put saliva on his eyes, did it again, and he could see. End of story. But is it really that simple? There are so many possible lessons to this. Why did Jesus take him out of the village? Why did he tell him not to return to the village after, but just go home? Why did he use spit? Why in stages and not all at once? The answers to each of these questions can teach us something different—this isn't as black and white as it seems.

When I was made to put aside my contextualization and my biases and my prior learning of the text, to simply sit and listen to the words and let God speak to me through God's living and active Word, one phrase stood out— “I see men like trees walking.” I can't imagine the emotions the man felt at this moment. Joy, for this is more than he saw before. Hope—perhaps the healing would continue; maybe Jesus of Nazareth was all they said He was. Fear, that the healing would not continue—this this would be a teaser, a reminder of the beauty he was missing.

I feel often this way in the spiritual realm - I see things blurry, out of focus, not as they should be. I see men as trees walking. When something happens, something that is bad, wrong, hurtful, devastating, we can see some blurry images—perhaps we are not sure what they are, or we think we know but have a mixed image. We know in the blurriness that God has a purpose, that His glory will come, but we can't see it yet. We see only a glimpse, a dream, of what it could be. We see men as trees walking; we don't see the fullness or the details.

The second thing that struck me was the way Jesus responded. It was part of God's plan. He put his hand back on the man's eyes, and the man looked intently.

When I thought about how this part applied to me, two actions stood out. First, when we can't get a clear picture, when we only see the things right in front of us, and those things aren't even that clear, we need to wait for God's hand on the situation. That is what brings healing. That is what brings hope. Secondly, the man looked intently. He was not content with seeing men like trees. He strained his eyes; he yearned for more. As we wait for God's hand to move, we are not to be passive. The man didn't close his eyes and quit looking just because his vision wasn't clear! Look for ways that God is blessing through the storm, that His light peeps through our blindness.

And sight comes. And through the process, we have learned and grown.

As we wait and watch and perhaps gain clearer pictures of those events in the here and now, we also wait and watch for the glorious day when we see all as it should be. Paul says “For now I see through a glass darkly, but then I shall see face to face.” "

Men as trees walking. One line, but so powerful. How often do we take time to put aside our contextualization and our memories of the sermons we've heard preached on a passage and just let it sink into our soul? The Bible is God's love letter to us, written for His glory and our sanctification. 

This may be especially so when we are in that moment of grey. That moment of knowing about God's goodness but not seeing it. Of seeing men as trees walking. That is when we wait for God, seeking with the expectation that in His time, He lays His finger over our eyes, and we see.