CLOSED MOUTHS, CLOSED DESTINIES

There was a blind man called Bart.

Some people in his community said he was born blind, while others believed he became blind at a very young age. Whatever the true account was, everyone who knew Bart knew him as the blind man.

Bart was loved by many in his community. He enjoyed the support of his friends, especially whenever he became curious about his surroundings. When they visited the beach or the riverside, he would ask how clean the water was, whether it was blue, green, or turquoise.

Other times, he wanted to know the colour of the sky, what kind of birds flew above, and even what his friends looked like. Because Bart absorbed so much information, his friends created a blindfold game called “No Cheats.”

They would ask questions about their environment, such as “What colour is the sky?” or “What bird is flying up there?” Most times, Bart won, because when his friends told him the sky was blue, or named a bird, he could identify it by the sound it made or the feeling in the air.

Though he was helped by his community, Bart’s greatest longing remained the same; to see.

Perhaps he simply wanted to verify that everything he had been told was true.

Whenever he heard of a new optometrist or eye physician visiting the area, he would beg his friends to take him there. Some tried surgery, others prescribed ointments, but none restored his sight.

Then one day, while playing with his friends, Bart heard that a man called Jesus was in town.

The whole community had gathered to see him, because word had spread that Jesus was a miracle worker and a great teacher.

The crowd was so large that Bart could barely hear anything, so he found a safe spot and sat sadly.

When he later heard that Jesus was leaving, he began shouting,

"JESUS, SON OF DAVID, HAVE MERCY ON ME!"

His friends were embarrassed and tried to quiet him, but the more they tried, the louder he shouted, until Jesus stopped and called for him.

And the moment Bart asked for his sight, his vision was restored.

I can only imagine the joy he must have felt. Whatever it took, shouting, jumping, even losing composure, no longer mattered. What mattered was that he finally got what he needed.

Sometimes in life, we are told to keep calm, stay composed, or keep our issues to ourselves. But I’ve learnt over time that closed mouths can mean closed destinies.

You may need to be radical sometimes; if it takes shouting, praying at midnight, attending counselling sessions, or simply waiting until you are noticed, DO IT!

Do whatever it takes, because at the end of the day, the joy or sadness of your result will be yours alone.

There is no shame in tears.

Shalom