The Man Born Blind

 I can't see the truth right in front of me. 

Who's fault is it? 

Was I born blind? 

Am I the victim of someone else's mistakes? 


I can't believe that my brokenness happened so someone else could see a miracle;

The God of Mercy doesn't withhold gifts for a future magic trick.   

He called himself light and set about the work before night came.

Did I miss that part? Because I'm lost in the darkness. 


I felt the gift before. 

When I was young, everything was so simple. 

The scales fell from my eyes, I washed off the mud, 

And I could see so clearly. 


Then the Pharisees came. 

They told me I couldn't really see if I didn't look like them. 

They tried to convince me I was wrong, but I don't agree:

I also don't see as clearly as I did before. 


Then the Doubters came. 

They told me what I believed was a lie and I had been given 

My sight so I could walk away and be free, but I didn't agree. 

I also see even less clearly than I did before that. 


So now I stumble in the dark, 

Trying to point everyone to someone I can barely see anymore. 

I gesture in a general direction, and regurgitate the prescribed words, 

But they seem to have lost some of their sheen. 


And everyone else seems to see just fine. 

They walk right by, on the right and on the left, 

Heading to the places they've chosen and planned to go. 

Who do I follow? How can I see the way? 


Man was formed from the dust. 

From the adamah comes the adam. 

Was that why you rubbed mud in his eyes?

Was it the building blocks to heal misshapen lenses and unformed optic nerves?


What can you use to add my missing parts back into me?

Where is my Pool of Siloam? Where is my River Jordan?

Where is the herd of pigs who'll drive themselves into the sea for my sins?

Are you going to leave me behind when you move on down the road?


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