The essence of love is realised in the service of the powerful for the powerless.
He came, He gave, He loved, He still loves.
This is God.
His face
So He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the town. And when He had spit on his eyes and put His hands on him, He asked him if he saw anything.
MARK 8:23
(The following narrative is a creative exposition based on Scripture)
There’s bustling all around me. So much excitement, anticipation. Some people take a hold of me to bring me to Him. They want to see Him in action. Everyone’s been talking about Him, how He miraculously heals people and now He’s here! Those holding me are almost dragging me along with them. “There He is!” they squeal. “It’s Him!” The grip around my armpits suddenly loosens and I hear people running. There’s cries and shouts of excitement. “Please touch him,” they plead, “please touch him!”
I’m standing there alone. The odd gasp and mutter interrupts the otherwise strained silence. The anticipation’s palpable. Then someone takes my hand. A warm, gentle touch. I think it’s Him! He doesn’t say anything but leads me out of the crowd and away from the people.
We’re walking, His hand holding me, gently guiding me. Gasps fade. It’s quiet. We stop. Arrrg! He spat on my eyes! He puts His hands on me. Warm, gentle, comforting. He asks me if I see anything so I look up. Things look blurry. I see shapes and tell Him I see men like trees walking. He puts His hands on my eyes again and I look. I blink. The blur dissipates. I can see!
I turn and see His face. He’s looking at me. Such gentle, loving eyes. He tells me not to go back into the town or tell anyone in the town what happened. They just want to see Him in action. But His face, His beautiful face. His warm, gentle hands. He made me see. He made me see Him.
