The Third in the Grand Scheme of Things

There have been times as of late I have wanted to sit down and write about what God is doing in my life and in the grand scheme of things, but it hasn’t happened yet. I feel a scribe in many ways, and with that comes the inclination to want to write and explain everything in its fullness, at least to the understanding that God gives me. In that, I think I have been waiting for this story to come into a package of sorts that I can write about from start to present. But I can’t! Even if I were to have hours or days to write, the story keeps on being written upon itself. And so I come tonight knowing that this is not the full package or story. I can’t write all the details of what has happened in this journey, at least not in this time. But there are steps along the way that God continues to bring, and those I am compelled to share.

It was raining all day yesterday. After our weekly Crusade meeting, I decided to walk back to John’s house alone in the rain to simply commune with God. I am rarely spontaneous anymore, and in that, I believe I often miss what God could give me in those moments. It was a beautiful rain. I went inside and picked up my stuff and proceeded back to the front porch where I awaited my ride home. It didn’t come for over half an hour. God was so good to grant that time that I may be with Him in His presence, being still and allowing Him to do and speak as He willed.

I started praying, and I was tired. I know the weaknesses of my flesh and its need for sleep, and so often in those times I elect to stop thinking or doing, mostly out of self-preservation I have been realizing. But as I sat there last night, I remembered that it is in those times that I am fully in the raw. My flesh is weak, my guard is down, and the thoughts I so often allow to govern the day cease. It is a position of vulnerability that allows a meeting with the true God if I allow Him to do so. And that was one of my early prayers last night. He surely answered…
I was back and forth on going to Crusade last night. My ears have been ringing terribly the last couple of days, leaving me not hearing much actual noise and pretty exhausted. I didn’t think I would understand much or be able to focus well. Yet as I discussed it with John, he encouraged me to go. I am so thankful for the Spirit’s leading through him, as he heeds it and understands it well. So I went. It was Elise T’s birthday and it was good to be with her. As for the message though? I didn’t get much out of it, not because there wasn't much there, but because I couldn't focus. Tim Fox, one of our interns, spoke last night. He spoke on the end of Mark 10 (vs 35-52), which is two different accounts; one being James and John arguing about who got to sit on the right and left sides of Jesus, and coming to the point where Jesus humbles them through many statements, one being “the Son of man did not come to be served but to serve, and be a ransom to many.” The next part was the healing of Bartimaeus, a blind man. I was a bit puzzled as to why Tim continued onto this part, as the two accounts didn’t exactly flow together in my opinion. But God opened my eyes to that scripture, and I pondered it for the rest of the time…

On John’s porch I asked God the significance of that passage being spoken that night. The answer I received is that it is the next of the main passages He has given me in this journey of knowing, asking, and receiving not just the gift of healing of my ears, but an intimate one in learning to be fully surrendered to Him and knowing Him like no other. And as I pondered that passage, I found myself in utter amazement, awe, and praise at what God had just given me. This is the third main passage in the last two years, each directly speaking and leading me in this journey of faith I continue to walk…

The first was John 9, given to me just over 2 years ago to this day. This account of a boy born blind brought me into the full realization that it was God’s will to heal me. For about 2 months up until when that passage was given to me, I was wrestling with the path God was leading me on. It had mainly to do with my perception of how God has used my hearing loss throughout my entire life. He has truly made His strength perfect in my weakness, and through that, brought glory to Himself. I wrestled with the question if my hearing loss were to be taken away, wouldn’t God be taking away the glory from Himself, or contradicting it? The opening three verses of John 9 spoke nearer to my heart that night than I remembered words ever speaking before, as I found my answer. Jesus and his disciples were walking along the road when they came across the boy. The disciples asked Him, “why was this boy born blind? Was it a result of sin in his life or his parents?” Jesus answered them, “it was not a result of either; rather, it is so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” I then knew that it truly was God’s will to heal me and the answer to that question was that there has been a purpose for both: the hearing loss has been for His glory, and the taking away of it is also. Both have been for the purpose of God’s work being displayed in my life.

The next was Mark 7:31-37, the account of a deaf and mute man. This was given to me last October. I largely identified with the boy born blind for a long time, but the transition was made with this passage. The people within the region of Decapolis brought to Jesus a man who was deaf and spoke with difficulty. They asked Jesus to lay hands on him. Jesus took him away from the crowd and put His hands on his face, a truly intimate encounter. He put His hands in the man’s ears and touched his tongue, and with a sigh looking up to Heaven, he cried Ephphatha, which means ‘be opened.’ The man then both heard and spoke clearly, and they went back into the crowd. I was taken aback by this passage because I had never found an account of a healing of a deaf person in the bible, and not just one deaf, but one with a speech impediment as well. He fits my disabilities to the “t.” In a time in which God had begun the healing process of starting to open up my ears, He brought me this passage to remember that it is an intimate encounter with Him. I was to allow Him to take me away from the crowd, and I was to look into His face, truly believe, and receive. It was not a moment in which anyone else was to be involved, only me and Him. There is such a powerful command in Ephphatha, and it urged me to be praying that myself. In January, I took out my last hearing aid, and God has been doing a tremendous process in healing my ears. Yet more so, He has been doing a tremendous process in me truly looking in His eyes, trusting Him, and receiving whatever it is He has for me. It has been a journey of love, obedience, silence, and intimacy, and still continues to be.

And then last night was Mark 10, Bartimaeus being blind and crying out to Jesus. 46 Then they came to Jericho. And as He was leaving Jericho with His disciples and a large crowd, a blind beggar named Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the road. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus the Nazarene, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" 48 Many were sternly telling him to be quiet, but he kept crying out all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" 49 And Jesus stopped and said, "Call him here." So they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take courage, stand up! He is calling for you." 50 Throwing aside his cloak, he jumped up and came to Jesus. 51 And answering him, Jesus said, "What do you want Me to do for you?" And the blind man said to Him, "Rabboni, I want to regain my sight!" 52 And Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him on the road.”

Bartimaeus knew Jesus. Let me say it again, Bartimaeus knew Jesus. He knew Jesus was there, and began to cry out to Him. Even in the midst of the people around him dissuading him from doing so, he continued to cry out until Jesus called him. According to his faith, Jesus made him well. The reason why I say Bartimaeus knew Jesus is because there was no hesitation to cry out to Him because he understood what Jesus could give. He was fully aware of His power to heal him, and persisted until Jesus did such a thing.

How much it speaks to my heart now. If I had to take away just one thing from this entire journey I have been on thus far, I would not take away the fact that I have heard music in ways I never have before, or people’s voices without aid, or really anything to do with my healing in that aspect. Rather, I would say I have come to know my Lord. I am no longer fighting His piercing gaze into my eyes asking me to look into His. There’s a change He’s been doing in my heart in delighting to do His will, to serve and obey no matter the cost. That’s what I would take away: I know Jesus.

And just like Bartimaeus, I will continue to cry out to my Lord. There are those that dissuade me because they probably think I am either making a fool of myself or am just dreaming, or it’s causing them to be uncomfortable. But no matter. I know my Lord. I know what He has said and what He continues to bring about. And I will cry out to Him all the day long until he calls me and restores my hearing in its fullness. It is not an action understood in our culture or even among believers who walk with Him. But I know my Lord. And I know He has given me the gift of a radical and undying faith. And I know it’s seldom understood, but there have to be some in this day and age that are willing to be wholly obedient and surrendered to His will for this generation and age, and I humbly walk into that. There is nothing more that I desire than for God to make Himself known to the people of this world, to those who are perishing and dying, or even to those who have fallen asleep or are still sleeping. I cry that they may they know the name of God as I AM WHO I AM, his name forever, and his memorial name to all generations (Exodus 3:14-15). And with that, so may it be with me. May He do with me as He will, to make Himself known to a world sleeping, dying, and perishing.