Blind Bartimaeus needed a miracle. He was sitting by the side of the road as he had for what seemed a lifetime. Everyone knew of his plight. They had pity for him but could do nothing. If a poll were taken that morning, most would say there is no hope for the tragedy of Bartamaeus.
There comes a day when the cries you have uttered to others and in your own anxious heart are brought before the very ears of God. Bartimaeus’ day had come. The strange rustling of the crowd now coming closer and closer told him there was something different going on. Though he could not see with his eyes, his heightened senses, which had grown over the years to compensate for the loss, now told him that in this moment, something very out of the ordinary was on its way.
An irritated bystander answered finally Bartimaeus’ repeated question asking, “Who is coming?” Mark 10:47 says, “When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!'” Bartimaeus knew this was his last hope. The noise angered those around him. They knew his situation … there was nothing that could be done. He should be quiet. His condition was without earthly remedy. Making a big fuss about it and coming unglued with frantic screams that only drew negative attention to him was not acceptable in their eyes. “Many ordered him to keep silent. But he cried out even more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!'” (Mark 10:48).
Who can understand the troubles of another? Unless we have walked in their shoes, most of us do not comprehend the depth of despair that our fellow sojourners are in. Bartimaeus knew his reputation didn’t matter. The stern reprimands of others didn’t matter. They were not blind; he was. They did not need deliverance; he did. They had not lived with the catastrophe of his predicament, and it no longer mattered what anyone else thought. For the very first time in his whole life, Jesus was walking by.
The shouts of this desperate man caught the attention he needed. “Jesus stood still and commanded him to be called” (Mark 10:49). Oh, that Jesus would stand still and command our victory. It is coming!
The crowd suddenly changed their tune: “Be of good comfort. Rise, He is calling you” (Mark 10:49). Interesting how everybody’s on your side when the tide turns. It didn’t matter any longer who was “on his side,” there was just One Bartimaeus had to get to. Throwing off the only things he had clung to in his poverty of soul, his cloak, he staggered with all that was left in him toward that beautiful voice that just beckoned him into the very presence of the Son of God.
“Jesus answered him, ‘What do you want Me to do for you?'” (Mark 10:51). His life flashed before his inner eyes. Years of living in darkness, season after season of no hope in sight, long days, lonely nights of rejection, misunderstanding, abandonment and diminishment … now the Messiah had stopped … to ask him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
What would you give to hear that direct question from Jesus? For those of us who have prayed the despairing, hysterical, frantic prayers of the broken, we know our own intimate, personal answer to the question. For the blind man, it was his sight.
For us, it may be emotional healing, restoration of our marriages, our son to get off crack cocaine, our daughters to see their worth and leave the path of destruction or for provision from heaven when there never seems to be enough on earth. That day, Jesus said to him, “‘Go your way; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus on the way” (Mark 10:52).
Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” Let nothing stop your response—not bystanders, unbelievers, those who view you with disdain, not fear, not self-preservation of reputation, not humiliation or pride … let nothing stop your face-to-face meeting with God, who sees your faith and commands your victory. Whatever the answer to that question is for you, Jesus is able to make you well.
Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson, author of Relentless Redemption, is the co-host of 700 Club Canada.