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Look at that rainbow. Isn't it glorious? All those times I heard it read out loud about how God set His bow in the sky. Now I can see it. Can't describe an experience like that. Wonder if they've truly ever looked at a rainbow-just stood there soaking it in to their souls?

Don't know if I'll ever get to be in a group where they read those passages again.

Sure would've liked to have learned to read and study myself. Not sure if I'll ever get to now.

That Jesus, He's very kind to me, not putting any pressure on me where I should go or what I should do now. He didn't go back and tell those people how mean and cruel they are, although, I heard He'd told them they were the ones who are blind. Part of me wishes He would have said more, but I think I understand why He didn't. Wouldn't have done any good. They don't want Him to heal their kind of blindness.

People have talked about me probably ever since I was a baby. I can remember hearing them talking when I was a kid, like they thought I wasn't around, or that I didn't have a brain to think about what they were saying. Trouble is, I only heard bits and pieces and never got the whole story. Then, Jesus muddied up my eyes and had me go wash them. After I was able to see, and my parents were dragged out to vouch that it really was me, that I'd really been blind since birth, then all the relatives and faith-community persons started telling each other the family secrets. Some of them told me personally, but, some of them still continued their talk among themselves. It's almost funny-now I can see, and they still treat me like I'm brainless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they are throwing a fit because they weren't the ones who were able to make me see.

But, my eyesight wasn't the only thing Jesus opened. I used to think that I was less than human, ashamed for my parents of their hardship at having a child like me. And then, I was so full of joy at receiving my sight, but instead of others rejoicing with me, the religious persons of our faith community seemed to think God's Law had been broken because Jesus made clay and had me wash on our Sabbath day. Breaking God's Law by giving me sight? What does it matter what day it is? Does God take a day off from showing us His Love?

So, they dragged me off and tried to prove I wasn't me. Imagine that! Treating me less than human all my life and now that I can see and, maybe, just maybe, am a bit human, they want to take away the miracle God gave me.

They talked about me enough all those years. They should've known it was me.

They wouldn't believe me. So, they dragged my parents in. My parents and I never really got along, especially now that I'm older, but, you'd think they'd be thrilled that their shame is gone now. For the first time, I realized their social position within the faith community means more to them than I do.

(Excuse me, I need a moment.)

Our religious leaders, they started asking me questions again. I couldn't understand their vicious persistence, especially about Jesus. And that's when my eyes were opened for the second time. All my life I've listened. And, listening to them this time, while looking at them, I realized something I'd never quite put into words, but seem to remember hearing some words like this read: These people draw near to God with their lips, with their concern over laws and appearances, but they don't draw near to God with their hearts. As I stood there, it were as though I could see the dividing line between religion and faith in God, and how religious persons can become blinded by the power that their religion-keeping gives them.

Maybe it wasn't very charitable of me, but I couldn't put up with them any longer. It was bad enough the way they've treated me all my life, and then to be humiliated by them saying I wasn't me, but to say Jesus wasn't from God was too much for me. So, I told them what I thought of them. I taunted them. I let them know that I'd already told them the truth and wasn't going to be bothered by them anymore, and that maybe they might want to put aside their religion for awhile and follow Jesus themselves.

They threw me out.

Guess I deserved that. Well, actually, it was kind of a relief, they threw me out a long time ago-just not physically-which actually hurt more.

(Deep breath.)

I didn't know what to do. It was too much for one day and still the Sabbath. I found a place by myself to sit down. A place where I could look at the sky.

While I was sitting there alone…imagine that, I can finally see and I'm still sitting alone…Jesus sat next to me. Somebody had told Him that they'd thrown me out. We just sat there in silence for awhile looking at the sky. Then, He started singing a song, one of my favorites. I joined Him. We sang for quite awhile.

Finally, He asked me if I believed in the Son of Man. What a surprise I got when Jesus told me it was Himself Who sat right there with me. I saw Him with my own eyes! I was overcome and got on my knees before Him. Jesus put His loving, healing hands on me and sat me back up next to Himself. We sat there awhile longer, then, a bit reluctantly, He said that He had to go back to His disciples.

Like I said earlier, Jesus didn't tell me that I had to do anything, join anything, or even that I had to follow Him, (though I think I might like to). Somehow, I got the idea that He already thought I'd been through more than my share of troubles, and that He just wants me to be God's Praise by enjoying seeing God's Beauty--like that fading rainbow over there.

Isn't it Glorious?