I am a fixer. I love challenges, problems, and puzzles, and I’m good at creating a clear path forward to achieve a goal. There are a lot of good things about being wired this way, but there are also some shadow sides. Life presents some problems that I can’t project plan my way through, yet my natural tendency to fix things causes my mind to ruminate over a problem and never find a solution, skipping like a broken record that never finishes playing a song. When my mind begins to spin like this, I begin to lose sight of what’s in front of me. Hopelessness and despair can set in and cloud my view, and my prayers become desperate: “God, I can’t see. I can’t see the way forward, I can’t see what you’re doing, I can’t see myself anymore. Help me to see again.”
This disorientation reminds me of the story of blind Bartimaeus in Mark 10:46-52. He was so desperate for Jesus to give him sight that he cried out in the middle of a crowd, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” When life blindsides us or disorients us, all we can do is cry out for Jesus to give us sight to see again. When we can’t fix ourselves, we must awaken our faith, believing in and being sure of what we can’t see.
When I close my eyes at night, trying not to think about all the problems I need to solve in the morning, or all the problems that I can never solve in my relationships and my own heart, I feel like blind Bartimaeus. Closing my eyes makes me think of the darkness that he must have experienced every day of his life. But then I begin to picture what it must have been like when he gained his sight. At first, he can only see a blurry outline of Jesus’ head. Slowly but surely, Jesus’ face comes into full, crisp focus. I think about the delight that must have been on Jesus’ face when Bartimaeus saw him for the first time.
As I sit in my own mental blindness, I think about Jesus’ face coming into clearer picture. I don’t need a GPS to navigate the way forward. I don’t need a ten-step plan to tell me how everything is going to work out, with an infinite number of contingency plans for everything that might go wrong. I don’t need to tell myself to “get it together” and push forward through my exhaustion. I just need to see the face of Jesus delighting in me. There is something grounding about a relational connection that pulls us out of our heads and back into hearts. When you get a much-needed hug or a phone call from a loved one after a bad day, something happens in our brains that re-centers us into our true selves.
During a recent spiritual direction session, the Lord dropped in my heart the scripture, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Neh. 8:10). I’ve always thought about the joy of the Lord as something I had to work up in my own heart to make myself happy so I could keep pressing forward through the challenges. But the joy of the Lord does not originate in my own heart; it emanates from the joy of Jesus looking into my face and delighting in me. Seeing the face of Jesus beaming down at us with joy is what gives us strength to press forward through whatever circumstance we find ourselves. Jesus endured the cross for the joy set before Him (Heb. 12:2). When Jesus was on the cross bearing our heavy burden of sin, blinded by His pain and our own, He persevered through it because He was looking forward to one day seeing our face delighting in Him. And it is the same joy set before us, the day when we will see Jesus face to face, that gives us the strength to persevere through the challenges of life.
So, whenever you feel blinded by the challenges in your life, take a moment to close your eyes and think about blind Bartimaeus. Pray the prayer, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Picture Jesus’ face coming into focus with a giant smile of delight on His face. May you find grounding in the fullness of His love for you.