Day 73

Numbers 29-30 | John 9:1-17 | Psalm 31

The man was blind.

Not injured. Not partially impaired. Completely blind from birth.

And the disciples saw his condition and assumed what most people did—this had to be punishment.

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2)

But Jesus didn’t see a man cursed.

He saw a man chosen.

“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3)

Then Jesus did something unexpected.

He spit into the dirt, made mud, rubbed it on the man’s eyes, and sent him to wash.

And when the man obeyed, his sight was restored.

But the biggest miracle?

It wasn’t the mud. Or the washing. Or even the physical healing itself.

It was what happened after.

Because for the first time, this man didn’t just see the world around him—he saw the One standing before him.

And I understand that tension—because I’ve wrestled with what healing should look like too.

When Healing Doesn’t Look Like I Expected

Just last night, Talacey and I got home from a seven-hour round-trip drive to meet with my surgeon in San Francisco. We planned the next two surgeries—one in two months to release the extensor tendons on the back side of my hand, and another two months after that to release the flexor tendons on the palm side.

My surgeon said something I didn’t want to hear: my index finger’s MCP joint—the one we’d hoped to restore—is as good as it will ever get. No replacement. No 90% function. No second chances. Just this.

And for the entire 3.5-hour drive home, I sat discouraged.

Because I wanted more progress.

I wanted full restoration.

I wanted healing that looked like actual healing.

And then I realized—I was staring at the wrong thing.

Yes, it’s miraculous that God used three world-class, renowned surgeons to reattach my fingers.

But the real miracle isn’t the physical part.

It’s what He’s done in my mind. My heart. My soul.

Seeing the Greater Miracle

The blind man wasn’t just healed—he was transformed.

His neighbors didn’t understand it. The Pharisees refused to believe it. But he couldn’t deny what had happened.

“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” (John 9:25)

But the real turning point came later.

Because when Jesus found him again, He asked a question:

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?” (John 9:35)

And the man, now healed but still learning, answered, “Who is He, sir, that I may believe in Him?”

And Jesus said, “You have seen Him, and it is He who is speaking to you.”

And that’s when the real miracle happened.

The man who had once been blind—who had never seen anything in his life—saw Jesus. And believed.

What Am I Really Looking For?

I’ve spent months focused on healing.

On what percentage of function I’ll regain.

On how long therapy will take.

On what I’ll be able to do—or never do again.

And yesterday, as I drove home discouraged, I realized I was making the same mistake the Pharisees made.

They were so caught up in the physical miracle, they missed the spiritual one.

And I don’t want to miss what God is doing just because it doesn’t look like I expected it to.

A Different Kind of Healing

Healing isn’t always about function.

Sometimes it’s about faith.

Restoration isn’t always about movement.

Sometimes it’s about trust.

The greater work God is doing isn’t in my fingers—it’s in my soul.

Because physical healing has limits.

But spiritual healing?

That lasts forever.

And if I had to choose between the two, I’d take the kind I can never lose.

Fixing My Eyes on the Right Thing

The Pharisees were so focused on disproving Jesus that they missed the miracle right in front of them. They interrogated the blind man, refused to believe the evidence, and clung to their version of reality—because admitting they were wrong would have required surrender.

But the man?

He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t know how it happened.

He just knew one thing.

“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” (John 9:25)

And that’s where I want to land too.

I don’t know how much function I’ll get back. I don’t know what the next surgeries will accomplish. I don’t know what my future will look like.

But I do know this: the work God is doing in my soul is greater than the healing I once prayed for.

And that’s the miracle that matters.

Lord, open my eyes. When I focus too much on the temporary, fix my gaze on the eternal. Help me to trust You, even when healing doesn’t look the way I thought it would. Because what You are doing in my soul is far greater than what I could ever want for my body. Amen.