I guess I am not much different from those folks. I really thought I was. They were so insensitive to this blind person. Those out front even had the boldness to hush that man into silence. The more I read this story though, the less and less I found myself to be different.

I would have been paying attention of my joys with Jesus rather than caring for the needs of someone on the outside. I personally wouldn't have been one of those people out front telling this blind beggar to be quiet, but I would be thinking how I could keep as close to Jesus as possible. After all, I, like these other people have been greatly blessed by Jesus. My life has been transformed. There is no doubt about it. Jesus Christ has been good to me. It can't be wrong to want to be close to Jesus.

But why did Jesus stop? I wonder if I would have even heard that man's cry for help. I tell my wife that I had a good night's sleep. I then ask her, "How did she sleep?" She said that she was up two times with different children crying. I wonder why I didn't even hear them.

Maybe if that blind man was real persistent crying out, I would have wished for him to be quiet. It was then that I discovered I was more like the crowd than I thought. I wanted Jesus to be with me; I didn't really want to be with that man.

Our definition of follower seems to be more, "I like to be near you" rather than "I am like you." The crowd stopped along with Jesus when He called and waited for Bartimaeus. Even though they told him to be quiet, I am sure they were happy this man who was rejected by his well-known and highly respected father Timaeus was now able to follow Jesus too. Was this because they wanted to be with Jesus or because they liked to be doing what Jesus was doing? How many of them really were like Jesus? How many had cared for this poor rejected soul?

If I am to abide in Christ, I need to be prepared to go where Jesus goes. My friendship with Him is not perfectly equal. We are friends, but He is Lord. He leads; we follow.

During our walks, my oldest boy typically likes to run ahead of us all to lead us. But once in a while, he turns around to find the rest of us going in a different direction! I sense this is the way many of us are. An honest reading of this account has scared me to think that sometimes I think I am with Him, but in fact He has already turned aside to care for some needy soul.

My mistakes are more common than successes. Just the other day when I was down at the city park with my children. I saw a older lady oddly sprawled out on the park bench. She was dressed with a lot of clothes for the hot summer day. I had the prickling of my conscious to go over and see if she needed any help. "Jesus would have talked with her," I thought. My children were swinging on their own at that point. And so my conscience finally won. I went on over and talked with her. She was taking a rest before climbing up the nearby hill evidently to her home. A pleasant chat. But that is what scared me.

My mind was elsewhere because my heart was elsewhere. I didn't really care.

I had to repent of my focus on my own needs. Here I was abounding in grace but not inviting another soul to enjoy Christ's riches. I was so rich and not caring for the real poor. Later I noticed that she was gone. I stood condemned on that playground. I didn't even see her go. She was not on my heart. She was not the only one that left either. Jesus had moved on, and I missed Him. I was left alone.

I lifted up a prayer in the spirit of Psalm 143:2,

"And do not enter into judgment with Thy servant, for in Thy sight no man living is righteous."

In my new quest to follow Jesus more carefully, my failure rate seems to have been climbing. I realize that I still need His grace. I still need to beg for His mercy. For my sin of neglect is now greater having experienced His wonderful love.

I want to say that I am like Jesus. I follow Him. I love Him. Now, however, the words are seasoned with much more humility. I humbly ask Him to take my hand and to lead me because I am the blind one. I can't seem to see those that Jesus sees. Next