The blind man's response to Jesus question is leading me into Lent this year. You remember the story. Jesus is on the outskirts of Jericho where a blind man sits begging. The beggar hears the noise of the crowd and out of it the name of the Healer, Jesus. He shouts his prayer: “Son of David, haver mercy on me!” Jesus responds to a plea for mercy with a question that sounds unnecessary. Do you remember it? “What do you want me to do for you.?”
Isn’t it obvious? He’s blind.
But Jesus makes him ask and the blind man answer:: “Lord, I want to see.”
As we enter the 40-day preparation for Easter beginning in two weeks, this is my request, too.
Too many times I see what I want to see so I can believe what I want to believe. But as I get ready to review the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection, I want to see clearly whatever Jesus wants me to see.
I think about the traditional components of this journey to the cross: fasting, confession, repentance, and service.
I can make my own lists for each and create good ways to accomplish each. But will my ideas lead me to see where Jesus points? Will it help me see the fears I nurse as barriers to living the potency of resurrection power? Will it help me find my kneeling place to confess where I stay stuck in what I say I can and can’t do? Will it help me know the cleanness of intimate transparency with Jesus?
I don’t think so.
What will I fast? What can I do without so that Jesus can give me more of what I need? This is my first prayer, and it is a critical one. It is where I need Jesus to remove the scales from my eyes and my heart so that I see what Jesus sees: the potential and the pride; the hope and the fear.
Fasting will bring me to confession. It always does. Fasting helps me see what I have allowed to rob me of what Jesus wants to give. I need to hear Jesus more than I need to hear Debbie.
The turnaround that repentance invites will be freeing and frightful. When I drop my excuses, I have no props. Only Jesus’ empowerment. To be perfectly honest, I feel unpracticed living by His power alone. I substitute my own resources too often. It becomes a self-fulling prophecy that I am not enough. I never was.
But Jesus is!
The truth that emerges is like a sunrise for my soul. Jesus is always enough for what he wants me to do and how he wants me to do it and who he want me to become. The illumination sends me wherever Jesus points. This becomes my service from the heart, not from my best idea.
I want to see myself more clearly during this season of Lent—what Jesus wants me to see about how he wants me to live and serve and be.
Would you like to join me in this prayer?
Lord, I am a blind beggar.
Remove scales from my eyes and heart
That I may see more clearly
Who I am in you,
How much I am loved,
And where you want to send me.
The darkness is lifting.