His Timeless Touch

DREAMS

Did you know blind people can dream?

Many people think we don’t because they associate dreams with visual images. But I have had dreams— lots of dreams—even though born blind.

In my dreams, I see the faces of my family and friends by the feel of their noses and cheeks and chins. I hear their voices and smell their colognes. And I dream of moving safely through my neighborhood with Goliath.

In my favorite dreams, I’m eating; I’ve been to the bakery on my way to the bus stop, and I’m savoring a honey bun or a cruller and washing it down with a cup of coffee.

Sometimes, I gain super powers in my dreams and overcome great obstacles. But I’ve had nightmares, too. In those, I’m falling toward an unknown bottom. I’m not only blind but I’ve grown deaf, and I feel the claws and teeth of whatever is about to eat me. Thankfully, just in time, Goliath’s growls rumble through my bones, and he pulls me back to safety.

Then, one night, I dreamed a very different dream. That night, I saw heaven and light. I saw God.

In the dream, I heard God say his son was visiting earth and that he had become the Son of David. God’s words excited me. From childhood, I had learned that when the Son of David came, he would make every wrong right again. He would cure sickness and hurts and blindness with his touch. In my dream I heard the Son of David on the earth and heard crowds of people following him wherever he went.

When I awakened, I wanted to dream that dream again. But of course, it would not come. I have kept the memory of it alive, however, by thinking on it often, as I do this morning while getting dressed.

Goliath nudges me. His inner clock is infallible. He knows it is time to leave for the bus stop to go to the mall.

At the mall, I will spend my day listening. Most people will pass me by without a word, but some shoppers will stop for a moment. They will ask how I am and tell me about their families. At noon I will buy lunch, and then I will resume listening. After supper at the mall, I will ride the bus back home. My days are simple. My routine seldom changes.

This morning, I select a chocolate-frosted donut from the bakery and carry it with my coffee to the bus stop. It’s a balmy spring day, and I enjoy the sun’s warmth on my face. But I also sense Goliath’s unease. My protector is on alert.

I hear nothing out of place until a moment later. Then I hear what Goliath has already heard: a crowd coming down the sidewalk.

As I listen, I pinch myself. Yes, I’m still awake.

I pinch myself again because, although I am still blind, I see heaven and light. And I see God. And I see his son, the Son of David. And I hear the crowds of people who follow him.

And I recognize the crowd.

The crowd on the sidewalk this morning is the same crowd I heard in my special dream. I am sure of it.

I stand quickly and spill my coffee. Goliath edges closer, sensing something unusual is happening.

The crowd draws near, and I feel sure the Son of David is there, somewhere, just as in my dream.

People pass closely, now, and their clothing brushes me. I grab a handful of someone’s jacket and stop them to ask, “Who are you following?” And they tell me, “Jesus is here. We’re following him to where he is going to teach, next.”

I release my hold on the jacket, and I cry out in my loudest voice, “Jesus! Son of David! Give me your mercy!”

The person I had grabbed shushes me. “He’s not the Son of David,” he says. But I won’t be shushed.

I bellow in my best bass voice, “Jesus! Son of David! Please stop!” I am energized. I keep shouting, and the people around me hiss their annoyance.

But then, the crowd grows still. I sense someone nearing. Goliath’s tail beats against my legs.

“I am Jesus,” a voice says, and my heart leaps. It is the voice from my dream!