Poetry

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What if
The blind man said:

"Don't, that mud smells yucky
Get it away from me!"
Jesus said, "It will make you well
And help your blind eyes see."

"Man, you are funny
I've been blind since my birth
And you're telling me
That I can be cured by spittle and earth?"

Jesus shrugged His shoulders
And said, "Can't you see
It's not the clay I put on your eyes
But having faith and trust in Me?"

And the blind man sat and grumbled
Not wanting to open up to You
As I pondered this little scene
I recalled my resistance too....

You wanted me to give You my trust
And I thought I did each day
But we got to an area where I'd closed the door
And You wanted to open the way

"If He wants me to have IT, He'll have to give IT to me."
But I was a blind one too
Although my voice was saying the words, in my heart
I was locking the door on You.

I have to be careful of the devil, you know
Can't listen to what others say
But then I started shutting out part of God's Word
"I can't look at that today"

Being the gentleman that You are
You didn't get pushy with me
But planted seeds all along the way
that made me desirous to be free

I went along my walk with You
Sometimes uphill then down
You let me cool my heels awhile
Then started bringing me around

Then one day I prayed to You
Asked for help in digging in Your Word
But I couldn't remember the question I had
And thought that was pretty absurd

But You had this planned all along
And were my guide on this discovery
You went around back of that closed door
To lead me to recovery

At first I wanted to prove MY point
And thought the evidence was growing
Now looking back, I have to smile
At all the seeds You were sowing

You took me straight to Your Word
Way back to the ancient Greek
Not into books that were pro or con
You didn't even have me peek

Nor did you send anyone to twist my arm
I just wrestled there with You
I'm sure glad You came back
To help me follow through

And Now I realize, You can't give anything to me
When only my mouth says yes
When I've closed my eyes and shut my ears
And won't allow You to bless

Then I thought back to the blind man
And how untrusting he would be
If he'd said NO to your mud
And chosen not to see

Thank You for coming round again
From behind my closed door
And helping me yield to You
And in faith trusting more

It wasn't the smell of the mud You used
Nor really the gift You gave
But once again my stubborn SELF
And that little room I was trying to save

Lord, I give “ME” all to You
I can't believe how sweet the air
Within that once closed part has become
Since I yielded to Your tarrying there!

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.

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