Oh, no! Not this again. It’s bad enough not being able to see. Why do some people have to humiliate blind people just for sport? Like last week, some kids dumped the coins from my cup into the sand. Then when I bent down to scratch around and find them, the kids kicked dirt in my face and ran off laughing.

And the loud talkers. They seem to think that blind people are also deaf. They shout their greetings in my ear. Others say the most painful things, right out loud. Like the woman yesterday who stood right there and complained to her husband that the stuff running from my eye sockets turned her stomach.

So naturally I was suspicious when this gang of men walked up. I heard them ask the old questions again, right in front of me, as if I had no more feelings than a rock or a tree. “Is it his sin or that of his parents that took his sight?”

The unusual note in His voice encouraged me. I felt He was giving me dignity. And He said something about God. But then He did the most confusing thing. I can hear really small noises, you know. So I heard the creak of His sandals and the rustle of His cloak as He knelt down. I could hear His fingers scratching around in the dirt. The rustle again as He stood. Then I hear him hock saliva from His throat, and spit it in His palm. Next I was sure I could hear a squishy sound, like He was making spit-mud in His hand.

Then came the shock. Splat. He smacked His handful of spit-mud right in one of my eyes. This had to be the dirtiest trick anyone pulled on me yet. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run. But I held my ground, hoping they would leave. Then He repeated the process — splat — in my other eye!

Double insult. Finally He ordered, “Go wash your face in the pool!”

Here was my chance at an exit! So I picked up my stick and tapped off in the direction of Siloam. When I felt my stick stir a splash, I fell on my knees and scooped handfuls of water onto my face and into my eyes until I heard my tormenters leave.

But then, when I stood up, for the first time in my life I saw light. Then trees. Water. Sky. Birds. Flowers.

Jesus sometimes calls us to chaos!
I dropped my stick and ran for home ... and chaos!

When Jesus brings us to the light, He sometimes chooses to do it in strange ways, like this man in  John 9 with the mud-cure from heaven. Jesus also sometimes calls us not to simplicity, but to chaos — with his presence working behind the scenes.

For more on this man, his cure, his chaos, and his Christ, read  John 9:1-41.

(Adapted from The Jesus Touch by Lynn Anderson.