My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
As I sit to write this letter, the light that now fills my eyes is nothing short of a daily miracle—a blessing I once thought beyond my reach. My name is Bartimaeus, and though once I was blind, now I see, both with my eyes and my heart. This transformation began on a day that remains vivid in my mind, a day when my physical darkness was dispelled by the light of the world, Jesus Christ.
Before that day, I lived in a world enveloped by shadows, sitting by the roadside, my life defined by the darkness of my condition. My sight was not the only thing I had lost; along with it went my hope, my community, and my dignity. I was reduced to a life of begging, reliant on the sparse charity of those who passed by. But amidst this physical and spiritual isolation, I had heard whispers of a man named Jesus—a healer, some said, a prophet, others claimed, and some even dared to whisper, the Messiah.
I remember the day I met Him as if it were this morning. It was not just any day; it was a day that would forever change the course of my life. I sat by the roadside as usual, the sounds of the day filling my ears—the chatter of the crowd, the shuffle of feet, the occasional clink of a coin tossed in my direction. Then, the atmosphere changed; the air buzzed with an energy I had never felt before.
As Jesus of Nazareth passed by, something within me stirred—a flicker of hope ignited by the stories I had heard. Driven by a newfound courage and the desperation of a broken man, I cried out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Many rebuked me, telling me to be silent, to stay in my place, to resign myself to the darkness. But I knew this might be my only chance to be seen, to be healed, to be restored. So, I shouted all the louder, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"
Jesus stopped. Amidst the sea of voices, He heard mine. He called for me. Those who had just told me to be quiet now hurried me along, saying, "Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you." Throwing aside my cloak, I came to Jesus. He asked me, "What do you want me to do for you?" My reply sprang from the deepest yearning of my soul, "Rabbi, I want to see."
"Go," He said, "your faith has healed you." And instantly, I received my sight. The first face I ever saw was His—full of compassion and authority. It was a face that I would follow for the rest of my days, not just because He healed my eyes, but because He restored my soul.
From that moment, I followed Him. I was there on Palm Sunday, no longer on the margins but part of the jubilant crowd, declaring, "Hosanna in the highest!" I had been blind, but now I saw—not just physically but spiritually. Jesus was not just a miracle worker; He was the promised one who came to open the eyes of the blind, to set the captives free, and to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.
My life is a testament not just to the power of Jesus’ miracles, but to His boundless mercy. He heard my cry as He hears yours. He sees your faith as He saw mine. In my story, I implore you to see not just a miracle but an invitation—an invitation to call out to Him amid your own roadsides and shadows.
Let my journey from darkness to light be a beacon to all who hear of it. May it remind you that no cry for help, spoken in faith, is too insignificant for Jesus. No situation is so dire that it cannot be transformed by His touch.
Therefore, I encourage you, dear friends, to see with your hearts, to walk by faith and not by sight, and to believe that the Jesus who heard my cry hears yours today. May you also experience the transforming power of His love and proclaim, as I did, that Jesus is indeed Hosanna in the highest.
With all the love and joy that sight and salvation can bring, Bartimaeus
Who Do You Say I Am: Bartimaeus - PART THREE