Make Me Blind That I May See

This past weekend I was in Washington state for a Christian music conference.  Wow.  I could write several blog posts on what I learned and how I was changed, and maybe I will.  But for now I’m gonna write about Noel.  Noel came the second day of the conference (I would have remembered if she had been there the first day.)  Someone brought her in and sat her down at a pew a few rows back and to the right of me.  When I say someone brought her in, I mean led her by the hand because Noel is blind.

That part was obvious right away, not only because of how she was helped to a seat, but also because of the way she kept her eyes shut and felt her way along the pew.  What became obvious after that was that she also has some other issues it seems, perhaps mental health issues that caused her to sway in her seat incessantly and blurt things out on occasion.

It was not the Tourette’s syndrome type of random blurting sometimes associated with that disorder.  This was fully church-appropriate “Hallelujahs” and “Amens.”  It just so happened that no one else was shouting out at those particular moments, and she seemed completely 100% fine with that, maybe oblivious to it.

I won’t lie.  Noel made me uncomfortable.  Socially awkward situations make me uncomfortable, no matter what type of person is responsible for the awkwardness.  I prefer everything to move along nicely to the tune of acceptable and expected behavior with no one person drawing undue attention to herself.  I didn’t like the extra sounds Noel made or the constant motion she was in.  What if the speaker was distracted?  What if others were distracted?  This woman was a wave in an otherwise calm ocean.  

Honest but heartless.  That’s how I feel admitting all of that.  How callous that my first reaction to Noel was a negative, please don’t rock the boat kind of feeling.  I immediately was ashamed of myself.

Noel sat by me at lunch.  I didn’t know anyone else at the conference.  I had grabbed food from the food truck and picked a seat in the Fellowship Hall where others were eating.  In a few minutes, here came Noel being led by the kind older woman who had first brought her into the sanctuary that morning.  And she led her directly to the seat beside me, asking if it was taken.  “No.”  “This is Noel.”  “Hi.  My name is Mandi.”

I was uncomfortable.  Noel rocked and swayed, and occasionally she would say something as if answering a question from someone who was not there.  And when she ate, it was messy.  I didn’t know if she would talk to me or if she even knew I was beside her.  I finished my lunch and got up to throw my trash away.  I didn’t return to my seat.

I didn’t see Noel again until the final time of worship.  You could hear her “Praise the Lords” and “Yes, Jesuses” as we sang to the Lord as one body.  And oh my goodness how it hit me – the purity of her heart, the complete and total focus on her Creator, the love she has for her Lord and Savior.  Noel was unrestrained in her worship of God, as we all should be.  I decided in that moment that her praise to the Lord was much purer than mine, as mine almost always comes with a self-consciousness that keeps a portion of the focus on me while hers is unadulterated, straight from her lips to God’s ear with no thought of herself, no concept of what is acceptable or appropriate.  And I also decided that this woman who obviously has physical and mental “limitations” is completely unlimited when it comes to her passion for Jesus.  What else is there?  Nothing, to Noel.  There is absolutely nothing in life but knowing God.

I am grateful that my physical eyesight allows me to see the world, the people around me, the printed word, music notation, my family.  I am grateful that I am not blind.  But I wish, for just a moment, I could be as blind as Noel to the world around me, a world that judges and criticizes and compares and belittles and walks away when things are “awkward.”  To be absolutely blind to my physical surroundings long enough to truly lose myself in worship of God.  

I lifted my hands during worship this weekend.  Lifted them straight up to God.  It was completely out of my comfort zone.  I don’t lift my hands mostly because I didn’t grow up that way, not because I think it’s weird (well, for the most part).  There were plenty of people around me lifting their hands in worship, it wasn’t that.  It just felt…awkward.  But as I sang praises to Jesus and felt the Holy Spirit in that sanctuary I naturally wanted to lift my hands as a sign to God that I am His and I want my whole life to be His.  I wanted to worship Him like Noel worships Him.  I wanted to hold nothing back, so I made the choice to lift my hands and it felt right and very freeing.  Such a small, small gesture, but to me it was a step.

There is a stirring in my heart and it has been growing even before attending this music conference.  I have felt the Holy Spirit pulling me out of my very small comfort zone where things are comfortable and predictable, and everyone is like me.  I believe God is pressing me to get out of my own mind and into a world that is lost and chaotic and diverse and absolutely uncomfortable.  And a whole lot of awkward.  

I believe when I follow Jesus recklessly, when I leave the familiar and the comfortable behind, when I say “I want to be where You are whatever that means” I will see the Holy Spirit move in a mighty way.  Not because of anything I do.  I have no bearing whatsoever on how the Spirit moves.  But I can choose to be a part of it, or I can choose to stay in the cheap seats and watch the movement of God from a distance.

I don’t want a cheap seat.  I want to sit with Noel.  She gets it.  I don’t know the story of her life or what she does and does not comprehend about the world around her.  But I know from the few minutes of watching her that she gets the meaning of life better than 95% of us, and that is worth way more than eyesight or comfort or a calm ocean of predictability.  Our country is in the throes of sin more than I’ve ever known in my lifetime, but there is also a revival happening in this country that I want to be a part of.  If there is any prayer on my heart right now it’s “God, don’t let me miss what You are doing.  Don’t let me miss it!  Make me blind to myself and all the worldly things around me that I may see with spiritual eyes the power of Your Holy Spirit.  Give me the courage and the faith to get off the beach and into the waves so that me and Noel and whoever else wants to come can worship You without hindrance and without self-awareness.  I don’t want to miss what You are doing.”

Noel, you’ll never know what you showed me.  Thank you.