The Sparrow and the Penny

Did Somebody Just Spit on Me?

Is that rain? No, it couldn’t be. There’s not a cloud in the sky. Maybe someone spilt some water, but it was only a few drops. Maybe…Oh! I know. It’s tears from that poor beggar again. It makes me sad when he cries, but that’s still not it. This is different. Did somebody just spit on me? This feels like warm spring rain ready to nourish new life. Whoa! Did I just leave the ground? I sure did. Now I’m in someone’s hands and he is massaging in the moisture. Could this really be? I think I’m being made into…No, way! This is too good to be true. This is the kind of thing dirt only dreams of. This is the day every piece of ground hopes for. I am being formed into clay. I wonder what I will be? Maybe I’ll be a water pitcher in the king’s palace or a bowl in his banquet hall. Maybe I’ll be a pot to grow flowers or even better, a vase to display a handpicked bouquet. No, there’s not enough of me for that. The sculptor only made a little of me. I will definitely be something smaller. Maybe a stamp to seal the wax on royal scrolls or the pattern for a new coin in the king’s treasury. Well, whatever I will be and however small, it will be wonderful. This craftsman knows exactly what he is doing. These are the hands of a master sculptor. As a matter of fact these hands seem very familiar. Somehow I think these hands have shaped me before. Yes, that’s it, these are the hands of the Creator. I’m in the hands of Jesus. Now I am sure that I will be made into something beautiful and useful. Jesus is lifting me up. He must want to show someone what He is making me to be. But that’s the poor man who sits in the dirt begging for food. He will not be able to see the wonderful creation that I am becoming. He is blind. He has been blind from birth. But Jesus knows this and He is moving me closer and closer. Could I be part of something even greater? Jesus is spreading me over the eyes of the blind man and commanding him to do something.

“Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.”

I remember this feeling. It reminds me of the creation week. Something new is about to be formed. Something brand-new is being created. I see shapes, forms and patterns entering into the recreated space. Every color of the rainbow pours in to fill the man’s new eyes. Splashes of brilliant light come into focus as he washes in the pool of sparkling water. I have become more than I could have ever imagined. I have not become something just to be seen. For a man who could not see I have become sight itself.