Eyes That See

“I Once Was Blind”

A Vision.

As I shoulder my cross and pass through the city gate, my eyes and my mind are both racing.  My eyes dart back and forth looking for an escape route.  My mind for an idea or a thought, a defense or an excuse.  The crack of the whip is almost as painful to my ears as the whip itself is to my back, as I am reminded that my mental focus on my sight and thoughts has left my feet standing still.  I feel a drop drip down my back, and wonder whether it is sweat or blood.  The next drop finds an open wound; this one leaves no doubt that it is sweat, as it burns like acid.

I continue my march, dejected as neither my eyes nor my mind prevail in finding a way out.  I am guilty.  This cross, I deserve.  Freedom, I do not.  The splinters of the great wooden beam drive into my skin as I carry the beam, but I hardly notice them until I am on the ground and my back is upon it.  As I fight the four men who hold me down, every movement drives new splinters into my back, and drives old ones deeper.  Finally, as my physical strength is gone, one of the men holds out my right arm to be the first nailed to the cross.  I feel the point of the spike against my wrist, close my eyes, and cry out to God to save me.  With my eyes closed in anticipation of the pain, I notice that the man is delaying for some reason.  I open my eyes and look at him- his left hand holds the nail to my wrist, his right is above him with the mallet outstrecthed.  But his eyes are not on the work at hand.  He is looking directly in front of himself. 

As I follow his line of sight, I see a man approaching with outstretched hands.  The man has a glow about him, and his outstretched hands reveal scars just beyond his wrists.  He proclaims, “Stop! He is mine!”  His voice seems to be accompanied by either a lion’s roar or rumbling thunder.  My captors obey; they each loose their grip.  Both the mallet and spike fall harmlessly to the ground.  I lift my head in astonishment and watch the men flee.  The crowd, whose presence I only knew by the jeers and taunts until that point, follows them. 

As I remember my many crimes, I fear that this man has only freed me to kill me himself.  But as I study him to see if he is one of the people that I have stolen from or lied to, I realize two things.  First, I have never seen this man before- or anything like him for that matter.  Secondly, as I gaze upon him my fears disintegrate.  There is something about him.  The radiant smile.  The tender eyes.  As I rise to my knees, I realize who this is.  This is Jesus Christ!  I fall to my face and start confessing my sins and begging for forgiveness, but he interupts me to tell me a story.  He tells of the eruptions of praise from his Father and the angels in heaven on the day that his pursuit of the stray lamb proved victorious.  He takes me by the arm and lifts me back to my knees.  I take a look around me, but I cannot see anything.  Everything is blurry except for the man holding me by the arm. 

As my eyes return to the greatest sight I have ever seen, the sight that has blinded me to all others, my fear returns.  Only this time my fear is fierce.  His radiant glory is saturated with holiness and righteousness, and visions of my innumerable sins flood my mind.  As my eyes water, my shoulders shrug, and my eyes drop to the ground, he reaches out and places his other hand on my shoulder.  With one hand on my arm supporting me and the other on my shoulder, he tells me that I was that lamb.  That his Father and the angels rejoiced over me!  He takes his hand from my shoulder and holds it in front of me, so that I can see the scar on his wrist.  He says, “I died for your sins.  They are as far from you as the east is from the west.  I came that you may have life, and have it abundantly.  Repent of your sins and believe in me, and you will be saved.”

Then he said to me, “Pasture the flock doomed to slaughter.  Those who buy them slay them and go unpunished, and each of those who sells them says, ‘Blessed be the Lord, for I have become rich!’  And their own shepherds have no pity on them.”

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June 19, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized

3 Comments »

  1. Amen! Praise God for the gospel!

    Jimbo

    Comment by jimhamilton | June 20, 2008 | Reply

  2. My Son of Two Sons.
    Praise God for whom all blessings flow!
    I love you boys.

    Comment by Gramzee | June 23, 2008 | Reply

  3. wow, that gave me goosebumps. how awesome to be justified by such a Saviour as ours.

    Comment by kpauly | June 24, 2008 | Reply


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