What A Blind Man Sees

Philemon sits quietly in the green lazy boy in the darkest corner of my living room. He has come to hear the word of God and to gather with other believers at my house. In one of his hands he holds a partially empty bottle of water that rests politely between his legs. The other hand still grasps his walking stick, now propped against the edge of the chair. His eyes gaze without judgement to the ceiling while his lips form a natural, peaceful smile. He is blind. How he became blind and why he sits in my living room is changing my life.

I might not have had the opportunity to meet him if not for a series of precise events that had taken place over the previous three years, in both his life and mine. For Philemon, who doesn't speak much English, hasn't always lived in Tulsa. The best I can recall, he grew up in California. Or maybe he wasn't born there. But came from there to Tulsa to be with his family, after the incident that resulted in his blindness. It is there, in a back room of his family's house in Tulsa, where he now spends most of his time, in virtual solitude.

He's had a hard life. And especially now doesn't want his blindness to be a burden on his loved ones. So to pass his time, he listens to audio tapes of the Bible. He meditates on them all day long. This is his life. And in one stroke of his body and one syllable escaping his lips, he is happy to be alive.

But like I said earlier, Philemon hasn't always been blind. And he hasn't always been confined to a small space. This is what happened. Three years ago, he was living in California with full use of his eyes. One day he was strapped for cash and approached his boss for help, for an advance in payment. And I don't know if the way he asked his boss was insulting or if the boss just was having a bad day. But something happened inside the boss's heart enough to not much want Philemon around from that moment forward. And so, the boss quickly and in a rage escaped to the back room to return shortly thereafter with a gun. Without hesitation, he shot Philemon square in the neck.

The wound left the nurses in the hospital scrambling to reduce the amount of blood gushing out of his body. He was still alive and breathing. But the location of the wound also caused him brain damage and stole his sight. In that moment, Philemon went "loco," tossing and turning in the medical bed. He kicked and screamed and was in total despair.

When the doctors and nurses had finished patching him up, they left him in restraints, so that he couldn't be a harm to anyone. Then they left the room. And there he was, completely alone.

But soon a man came to his bedside speaking of the wondrous works of Jesus and how if Philemon would accept Him as his savior, Jesus would never leave him, never for one single minute. Philemon would never be alone again. Right then and there, in the chaos of the ER, Philemon accepted the power of Christ. And in that moment, according to Philemon, he became calm, no longer tossing about. A peace fell over him like nothing he could describe.

And so bandaged and beaten up, he thanked the nurses and doctors who worked on him, and returned to his house, anxious to tell his neighbors what had happened to him, and why he is so happy. But they didn't necessarily want to hear what he had to say. And they mocked him. Slapped his face. And called him a blind fool. It didn't take Philemon long to realize the that he better watch out who he tells his happy story to, or else he might lose more than his sight. So he hid inside his house, not getting out for much.

And somehow, I'm not sure the exact details of how this happened, but he makes it to Oklahoma to live with his family. Once here, he knows the burden of what being blind places on people. He knows how people react to being put out by a blind fool. And not wanting to place any extra strain on his family, Philemon hides himself, once again in their back room. But instead of feeling sorry for himself, he hides in the word of God, spoken through his stereo. And he rejoices in the power of Christ's love to redeem his lost soul, to give him real sight.

In the months to follow, he meets a guy who goes to my church, whom I will meet once I start attending the singles class on Sundays. And once in awhile, my friend starts taking Philemon out to lunch, just to get fresh air, to meet, to live, to be exposed to life outside his four walls. Sooner or later, I decide my life is bland and without passion. I want more than the 9 to 5. I want what the great men of the Bible had, a reason to live. A reason to die. I want to follow Christ closer than at a safe distance. So I start going to the single's group at church. And through that single's group, begin to attend a Bible study once a week. It is at that Bible study, which just so happens to be held at my house, that Philemon sits in peace and quiet, admiring the Word of God and the chance at real life.

And some may say his story is a bit tragic, having lost his vision, being in a land where he is a nobody who speaks a different language than everyone else. But I say this man's life is anything but a tragedy. To be ripped of sight and be able humbled enough to kneel before the throne of Christ and proclaim His endless wonder, His glorious riches, His eternal value...to praise Him for receiving the ability to really see these things with Heavenly eyes....ahhhhh I envy Philemon.

Oh, blessed are the pour in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven!!!