eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.” (John 9:1-11 (NIV)
When Jesus and His disciples came upon the blind man, they inquired, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Those who walked the dusty roads with Jesus wanted to know the reason for the problem. Human nature wants to affix blame when things go wrong. We want immediate answers. The disciples were curious.
Notice Jesus’ response to the question: “...that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” The answer was simple and to the point. It is a proven fact that much sickness is a result of sinful living or irresponsible lifestyles. There is a price to pay for choices made. Seeds sown will bring a harvest, good or bad. That is no excuse to condemn other people. We should not judge another person or falsely accuse them. The reason and purpose for their mud is God’s business.
The blind man literally came face to face with Jesus, and he was in worse condition than before. He was still blind, and dirty. Jesus told him to go to the pool in that condition. Some historians say it was about a two mile journey. He had to walk that great distance, all the while being harassed by the shrill voices of the naysayers.
Why would Jesus, who was God in the flesh, send a blind man on a journey that was so inconvenient? Getting to the pool was a huge challenge. He could have healed him then and there. Hadn’t the blind man suffered long enough?
His neighbors, the Pharisees, ridiculed him and criticized Jesus for performing a miracle on the Sabbath. Even his parents were afraid to speak for fear of the Jews. The spirit of fear is not a new thing. The devil plays the same old tricks these days. His game is to spoil the works of righteousness. Anything that glorifies the Father is against the enemy of our souls.
The blind man was healed when he washed in the pool. Hallelujah! Forget the mud. Forget the cruel ridicule. Forget all of the inconvenience in making his way to the pool. Forget the embarrassment of his parents. He could see! Nothing else really mattered.
Jesus healed in John 9 and Jesus heals today. The words of the healed man said it all: “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!” (John 9:25)
The details of this story left me with one distinct question: what was the significance of the mud? It baffled me that Jesus did not heal the blind man instantly. Spitting on the ground was a strange thing to do. Jesus putting mud on the blind man’s eyes was uncommon, but it stirred me. The Healer’s hands touched the exact point of pain. Jesus zeroed-in on the problem. These impressions were taking form within my imagination as I sat in my recliner. I couldn’t shake the story.
I don’t understand much about this story. I am curious, like the disciples. I wish I could just have a talk with Jesus right now and ask a few questions.
The scenario of the past week played over in my mind like a movie. I recalled the euphoria of discovering Psalm 119:116. Only a few days later the bottom fell out. Doubt opened the door and fear walked right in. By the grace of God, I revolted against that negative spirit. I absolutely would not allow it to rule me.
That poor blind man; all he wanted was his sight. But, Jesus required him to go to the pool and wash. He was such a brave soul and he immediately obeyed the Master. Consequently, he made it to the pool and went on his way...healed.
Waiting was hard. I was becoming very weary in the drawn-out process. Emotions were running rampant and questions screamed.
Jesus, what do you want me to do? Why do I feel sorry for myself, simply because I don’t have an answer? Why is everything so mysterious...so confusing? What will the outcome be?
A restless nap in the recliner did not take away the familiar heaviness of heart. I desired so much for God to show me what to do about the chemotherapy and radiation treatments. I was ticked-off at HIM for being silent.
Have you ever been in that predicament? You may as well admit it. The Lord already knows all about it.
Deep inside, I longed for a marvelous testimony of healing that would knock the socks off the entire medical community in Nashville and beyond. Some of my conversations with the Lord were somewhat comical.
God, You are really missing a golden opportunity to be lifted up in this town. Don’t You know that I’m running out of time?
What a merciful God, so tenderly mindful of those human anxieties and frailties.
As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. (Psalm 103:13 & 14 - Amplified)
The ringing of the telephone interrupted my restless thoughts. On the other end of the line were our good friends, Missionaries David and Doris Godwin. These seasoned soldiers were in Mexico for another crusade. Their son, Don, had once traveled with us and played the bass guitar in our band. Our history went way back.
News of my battle with cancer had reached Mexico. We spoke briefly about the “three-month death sentence.” It was odd, hearing those words come out of my mouth for the first time. We exchanged the normal niceties and I thanked them for taking time to make the call.
Then, David said, “Wait just a minute. Before we hang up, let’s pray. But first, I have a little story to tell you. We believe God is going to heal you, but you may not like the way He does it this time.”
Oh David! You could have left out that part about not liking the way God “does it this time.”
He continued, “In the ninth book of John there’s an interesting story of a blind man. Jesus could have healed him on the spot, but He didn’t. Instead, the Lord spat on the ground and made some mud. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud and sent him to the pool. I can’t tell you why it happened that way. Wish I could. In the end, he got his sight and God was glorified.”
David and Doris prayed a short prayer and the conversation ended.
There I was in Nashville, sitting in my chair with my Bible opened to that very scripture. The phone call was not mere coincidence; David’s reference to John 9 was a divine appointment. God spoke to me in an unexpected way. Oh yes, He heard my cry. By His mercy, He prompted someone in Mexico to call. Doesn’t God often surprise us in the way our prayers are answered? Indeed, the answer to my question became obvious. It was time to be still and listen.
How could I be ticked at such an awesome God? I would no longer question the timing of the Creator of the Universe. But still, there were things about the actual story that I wanted to know. What was the significance of the mud? Revelation gradually dawned in my clouded spirit. The understanding that God gave was profound and undeniable.
Mud was all the messy stuff I did not want to encounter. It was the cancer, the inconvenience, the treatments, the pain, even the mocking humiliation. The obvious losses and those yet to be suffered were part of the mud. Deeper insight would come in due time; nevertheless, it was already shining like Heavenly sunshine on the mud of my confusion. The darkened corners of my spirit were growing brighter, and the scriptures that were written thousands of years ago were illumining my soul. The mud was not a dark mystery anymore. Absolutely not! I was created from mud. I had even been protected by mud. The mud of life was all around me. Better still, the mud no longer frightened me. The washing of the Word cleanses it every time. Mud kills only when one stops moving through it. I would never give up and allow it to overwhelm me. I made a conscious decision to embrace the mud.
Insight about the mud was right on time. It was revealed to me by the phone call and the way God spoke to
