The Mess before The Miracle

I think if I had to pick a verse that represented my journey the past seven months it would be John 9:6-9.

“After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes.“Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing. His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?”  Some claimed that he was. Others said, “No, he only looks like him.” But he himself insisted, ‘I am the man.’”

In this scene Jesus is healing a man blind since birth. What’s crazy is we are all born blind. We are stuck with a perpetual blindfold over our eyes until Jesus reveals himself to us. In that moment, the mask that’s been covering our eyes vanishes and we have a choice to walk with Jesus or to walk away. I did my fair share of walking away. Some days it felt more like sprinting away. Although I wasn’t physically blind, I was blind to the pain in my past. I was not willing to admit fully the domino effect abusive relationships had on me. Like the man in the story, I sat begging too. I begged God to take it away instead of to take me through it. I begged God to erase my story instead of face my story. I begged God to pity me instead of empower me. I begged God that He would let me continue to rationalize the behaviors of my abusers instead of confront their actions and the facts. I had to face the facts in order to fully forgive, but I wanted out instead of allowing God in. It’s easier to sit and beg than to go and be healed.   The hurt handicapped me, but God desired to heal me.

Sometimes life is messiest in the middle of the miracle. Sometimes before you are completely delivered you are destined to get dirty. I peeled back every painstaking detail. Every scarring scene. Every miserable memory. Every bit of bitterness. Every ounce of anger. As I peeled away layers of pain I felt like another layer of mud encased me. I felt like everything was falling apart instead of falling together. Can you relate?

“Are you sure about this God?” I questioned. “It’s darker than before. It’s heavier than before. Maybe I was better off blind to the truth.” But it was like God pulled a reverse Jerry Maguire on me. As I shouted, “I can’t handle the truth!” He whispered, “You WILL know the truth and the truth will set you FREE.” There’s a popular saying that claims ignorance is bliss, but I believe ignorance makes us miss more blessings. Ignorance keeps us insulated and protected instead of unleashed and vulnerable. The weight of the truth felt like the weight of mud on my eyes. I knew God was in control, but why did I have to go through the mud to get the miracle? I had to take one day at a time and on the really difficult days one breath at a time. I remained steadfast, believing by faith one foot in front of the other would lead me to my personal pool of Siloam.

Exposure leads to clarity.  The shed light revealed parts of me I didn’t even know where hidden. The decisions I made in the past. The relationships I ruined. The types of people I found myself gravitating towards. My inability to guard my heart well on my own. I clung to the promise that I would know the truth and the truth would set me free. Freedom didn’t feel like I expected. The impact could either isolate me or ignite me to press on toward healing. I had hope amidst the havoc because I know God is an expert on providing hope in seemingly hopeless situations. The man Jesus healed might have been equally confused by the mud on his eyes, but he did not allow that to hinder him from his healing. The temporary spit-filled mud was worth the permanent miracle that awaited him.

I feel like I’m about to enter that water y’all. After months of mud, God will put his finishing touches on my healing as His healing water washes over me. Healing was found when I stopped sitting, pouting and begging and started standing, believing and walking towards restoration. Have you experienced God’s healing in your life? Let me know in the comments below.