theROCK

A Face Full of Mud

Sometimes, we ask God for a miracle, and we end up with a face full of mud.

Many of us suffer greatly in this life. And in the midst of this suffering, we pray for assistance, for Divine intervention. We pray to Jesus our Healer to work a miracle of healing for us or for another.

Why not me? Why not this? Why not now?

Often, so often, our prayers are met with a no. Or worse, silence. When we are suffering deeply, knowing Jesus is indeed the One who Heals, yet remaining unhealed ourselves can be immensely painful. It can feel like rejection, like forsakenness. It can lead us to that feeling of abandonment that Christ experienced on the cross: “My God, why have you forsaken me?!” I know the pain of that cry.

Today’s Gospel passage has taught me a lot about that cry. Because sometimes, as we see in the Gospel, sometimes the way God works His miracles looks a whole lot like a face full of mud.

Unlike most of Jesus’ other miracles of healing, this miracle is not neat and tidy, it is dirty…literally. Jesus spits on the ground to create mud and rubs it all over the blind man’s eyes.

Additionally, this miracle does not take place immediately at Christ’s touch or word—it is delayed. Only after the man leaves Jesus and follows His instructions to wash the mud off does the miracle occur. There is a time of waiting. There is a time of uncertainty.

This is my word of encouragement for those of us who cry out for healing and are left without it: Maybe the answer isn’t a “no,” but a “not yet.” Maybe it isn’t the neat, tidy, miracle that allows us to “drop our crutches” at the door, which in truth is what most of us desire. Maybe it is a slow unfolding that we barely see or a set of circumstances that just don’t seem like they’ll lead to our healing—such as a face full of mud. Maybe Christ isn’t even focused on our physical, practical healing, because what He desires more is our spiritual healing and He’s going after that first. As a result, maybe we won’t get the healing we desire until we reach eternity. And that is hard to understand when met by the God-Who-Heals-and-yet-Won’t.

Our path is still the path of the blind man. Choosing to trust Jesus, even with a face full of mud. Following His lead, even when that means walking away without our miracle. And being ready to see His healing work unfold in our lives. We never really know how the Lord is working to answer our cries. But we do know He is. Maybe He just needs time to gather more spit.

Move Your Crucifix

My mom went home to God a few weeks ago. On a Saturday night, she was moved from ICU to a hospital room. The room had a crucifix on a side wall, in a corner of an alcove. Mom informed (and that is the correct word) the staff that they would need to move the crucifix, as she needed Jesus front and center, in her sightline. She needed her Jesus. Over the next few days, I noticed mom gazing at the crucifix. She was talking with Jesus. This was repeated during home hospice, although the crucifix didn’t need to be moved.

Where is your crucifix? I am not talking about the physical cross on your wall or around your neck. Rather, ask yourself, where is Jesus in my life? Is He stuck in a corner, only to be called upon when times are tough or is He front and center, in your sights each and every day, hour, and minute?

Jesus will always be “in” your corner.

This Lent, you can give up chocolate, or you can choose to strengthen your habit of talking with Jesus. Share your joys and challenges, your dreams and your fears. Speak with Him every day.

Get Jesus out of the corner. It is time to move YOUR crucifix.

Love you mom.

Listen to Him

I have been pondering the reading about the Transfiguration of Jesus as told in Matthew 17, in which it states that Jesus’ clothing and appearance changed right before the eyes of Peter, James, and John: “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light.” It is in this very moment that Jesus is confirmed to be the bridging point between Heaven and earth – the confirmation of his own divinity and the fulfillment of Old Testament prophets/scriptures. And, in that very moment, God spoke to the three of them who were gathered with Jesus in a very concise manner. God said: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

And that was all God said – but such gravitas in those words that were spoken! I am especially drawn to those final three words and how simple a command to give. And, yet, for many it is so very hard to do. Jesus tells us to not harden our hearts against those who are in most need. Yet, our world is torn apart by violence, hatred, and bigotry. Jesus tells us to love one another and to forgive those who have wronged us as we expect them to forgive us when we wrong them. Yet, pride is a potent poison that seeps deep inside of us and ensnares us mightily. Jesus asks us to give up what we have, pick up the cross, and follow him. Yet, we allow ourselves to be dragged and weighed down by material possessions, worries, and uncontrollable forces. As hard as it is, we have the greatest guidance in how to alleviate these issues from our hearts and souls:
Listen. To. Him.
He hears us – especially when we pray.
He sees us – in our moments of elation and in our moments of sorrow.
He loves us – always and forever.