From Luke 18......was it anything like this?

Nothing. Darkness...varying degrees, but always dark. Blank. Sounds created mysteries to solve. Touch brought fear. Smells caused frustration. Totally dependent on the mercy of others for daily living; answers to any of a thousand questions, were a luxury.

Today began as any other. His bones ached from sleeping on the ground, his stomach begged for food; yet he barely noticed. This was normal. He felt his way to his usual spot by the road where he prayed for a kind-hearted soul to pass by.

There were the normal footsteps, the ones he could predict would pass each morning and never hesitate at the sight of him. Children scurrying about. Their chatter and laughter brought a smile to the man's face and a longing to his heart.

The normal noise began to fade. He sat up a little straighter. No, it wasn't fading -- it was being overpowered. Yes, louder voices; footsteps, too many to count, were coming near. Soon they were all around him. He could no longer tell from which direction they had come or where they were going. What did it mean? What was happening?

He could stand it no longer. He tentatively stretched out a weak arm, feeling for a hand, a hem of a garment, anything to get someone's attention so he could ask. The excitement of the crowd was contagious; he could feel it somehow. He had to know.

Grasping at everything that brushed his hand, he asked, over and over again, "What's happening? What does this mean?"

Finally, he realized people were answering him and calling to each other, as well. "It's Jesus, the one from Nazareth, passing by!"

Hope and desperation as he had never felt before ignited as a flame in his heart. It was Him. The One he had heard others speak of, the One he had always prayed to meet. He had wondered if it would ever happen; but never doubted that if it did, He was the only one capable of giving him the miracle he longed for with every breath: his sight.

He reached both arms out now and cried with a strength he hadn't known he possessed.
"Jesus!" And again, "Jesus, Son of David! Jesus, have mercy on me! Jesus!"
Those at the front of the crowd told the man to be quiet, "hush, Jesus is walking by"; he was bothering them.

Ignoring them, he cried even louder. Tears streaming down his rough cheeks; trembling, bony fingers reaching up toward his only Hope; he called again: "Jesus! Have mercy on me..."

Even he could tell that his voice was lost in the multitude of others'. Suddenly he realized something else -- the crowd no longer seemed to be passing by. As he strained to hear a reason for the pause in motion, one strong, compassionate voice was clear above all the others. It was Him. He heard that beautiful voice say to someone "bring him to me." Who was He commanding be brought to Him? He rejoiced for whoever was the recipient of such a blessing. And he longed to be near Him all the more.

Abruptly, hands grasped his arms. He cringed. He didn't have the strength to fight. They moved him through the crowd, taking him, he feared, even farther from Jesus. And he was so far away as it was.

The crowd grew quieter. He felt bodies move out of the way, rather than resist as they carried him through. They placed him on the ground. Then he knew it. He felt it. He was at the feet of Jesus.

More tears and a joy like no other, filled his heart. When he heard His voice once more, he stopped trembling and looked up toward the light.
"What do you want Me to do for you?"
"Oh Lord," he breathed. "I want to see."
The words he had waited what seemed an eternity to hear, were spoken to him in that moment:
"See. Your faith has healed you."
Instantly the emptiness was gone and his eyes, still filled with tears, saw the face of Jesus. Slowly he stood and followed Him, thanking and praising God.

And the stunned crowd joined in with him.