Blindness

"There are a whole lot of people who are blindly stumbling their way through life. But their blindness is made even more powerful and dangerous by the fact that they tend to be blind to their blindness. A physically blind person is never blind to his blindness. He's immediately confronted with the fact that he's unable to see, and he gives himself a whole catalog of ways to live inside the boundaries set by this profound physical deficiency. The scary reality is that one of the things that keeps spiritually blind people blind is that they're not only convinced they see, but they're also convinced that they see quite well! And so they don't seek help for their blindness. Why seek help for a condition from which you are convinced you don't suffer?

So, whenever you encounter a person who sees himself - or herself with precision, clarity, and accuracy, you know for sure that grace has visited that individual. It's only God's grace that can enable blind eyes to see, and it's only God's grace that can produce in us the willingness to accept what we've seen." - Paul David Tripp

"I can't even judge myself. Only the Lord can say, 'Well done.'" - Sara Groves

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In the past few years, but particularly this last one, I have started to realize just how dependent I am on the Father's grace, particularly when it comes to seeing my sin. I used to think by default that grace was needed in the act of repentance and the process of change. And of course it is, but how can I know of what to repent or in what direction to change if I cannot truly see what is in my own heart?

The students I know in Asia have particularly revealed this to me because as we talk about sin in their lives, I am forced to wonder about sin in my own life. It is easy to think of common answers to the question, "What do you repent of?" But it is much more difficult to see what is deep in my soul causing fights with roommates, an unwillingness to be honest, fear of man, selfishness. Even in times of reflection and quiet, I find myself simply asking God to reveal my sin to me so I can repent. I know something is wrong, I feel it is wrong in my soul, but I can't see or name it. I cannot create holiness in myself because I am blind to what is unholy about me in the first place.

There is peace in Sara Groves' words "I can't even judge myself. Only the Lord can say, 'Well done.'" It is impossible for me to live by my own standards with open eyes - I'm blind to failings against my own personal code of life. No amount of endless navel-gazing could reveal to me my shortcomings. I can't fully know the recesses of my mind, my heart, my soul. Resting in the Father's grace starts at the most basic level of trusting he knows me better even than I know myself. He is my Creator and my Sustainer whose mercy opens my eyes to areas of sin. Because he knows me, I can know myself. Because he reveals sin, I can repent. Because he has a plan, I can know in what direction to change. I can't judge myself, but rather hold on to the guiding hand of the One who sees and knows all things as he slowly opens my eyes from a sleeping blindness to a glorified wakefulness.

Fruit Stand Reality Check

I went to buy some apples from my regular fruit stand this afternoon and starting thinking about the physical difficulties I am facing here in Asia. My fruit seller has lazy eyes and decaying ears and I buy his fruit not because it is the best, but rather because the man stirs up compassion within me. I don't know what causes it or if it's really as bad as I think, but the edges of his ears are often black and wilting.

My heart often breaks as I think about the physical conditions of those living around me, but today I realized I am not too different from them. The harsh environment of this city created by both natural factors and the falleness of man is taking a toll on all of us whether it is my lungs, the fruit sellers ears, the grandma with no teeth bent over double, or the student with gray hairs. The lives of this city's citizens mirror the buildings surrounding them as they crumble under acid rain even as they are built.

My body often hurts here, but today's trip to the fruit stand was the beginning of peace and maybe even pride in the pain. I am starting to say, "It's ok" and bow my head because how can I expect to be different from the people I live with? They are in pain, too. Afterall, their ears decay. If the people I live with suffer, why shouldn't I? Of course I long for healing and am seeking medical assistance, but my soul is realizing that suffering alongside the residents of this crumbling city increases my love and pity for them.

Two months ago, I was convicted to pursue further indigenization and maybe this is it. I don't want to presume anything, but just maybe this is how my Father wants me to identify with this corner of the world.

A Prayer

My body is weak. Never before have I struggled to have energy and perseverance, but now the promise of my young years is proving to be a trick. Remind me that I do not have any rights, except the right to be your daughter. Nothing is owed me, yet you choose to love me tenderly. Let me know of your compassion even when breathing brings anxiety, and let me rest in the joy of a soul at peace in you eternally.