This morning I was reading my daily scripture, one of the selections being Acts 9:1-22. What an incredible story of the start of the conversion of an ordinary man, Saul, into the great disciple we now know as Paul; how he was struck with a bright light and a voice from Heaven, asking for his trust in doing the work of Jesus; how he was immediately blinded by that light and remained so for three days until the disciple Ananias found him and healed him, despite Ananias' misgivings of Saul's worthiness; how he did an about-face on his views of Jesus and the teachings of the church with this miracle.
I have been blind myself over the years in various ways, I know. Blind to someone else's hurt or need; blind to my own actions of grandiosity and pride; blind to the results of my apathy or refusal to attempt things in the name of or on behalf of Christ. At 43 now, it is...
(Sorry, took a break to watch a hummingbird outside my window. As I was saying...)
At 43 now, it is physically painful to relive some of those situations. I can't believe how obtuse I was. Like Saul, I thought I had a grander purpose, a higher calling. A calling to what? Be famous? Be recognized? Be busy? Be important? Probably yes, to all of the above.
Thank God, in His infinite goodness, who sent folks along my path...good people like Ananias, who helped heal my blindness, in spite of whether or not they found me worthy; who gently turned me back to the right path; who created miracles in my life that would lead me to the place I am today, the grandest calling of all...to listen to and try my best to follow Him.
However, just in case you are wondering, I, unlike Saul/Paul, will not be changing my name to Cindy in proof of my conversion any time soon!