Hocking Some Loogies

Last week I had to fly back to the states for some board meetings for our organization.  Initially, I was somewhat excited about it.  I have only traveled sans kids like once in the last 9 years.  So it seemed a bit like a fun little adventure that might include Starbucks and Target.

As time got closer to the actual trip, though, I started to have one my typical “Sara Freak outs.”  This was partially due to some last minute travel details falling through, but in large part, it was just due to the fact that I tend to freak out before traveling.  Despite the fact that I travel by airplane more than the average person, I really do suffer from travel anxiety.  Most of the time, I am able to manage this bout of anxiousness with lots of prayers, lots of trips to the bathroom (TMI ???), and lots of “mind over matter” kind of exercises. 

So it was not at all out of the ordinary for me to be lying in bed with Hubby the night before my trip overanalyzing all of the possible “worst case scenarios” that could potentially happen to the kids or me while we were separated.  Hubs knows me well so a back rub and some prayers calmed the storm that was beginning to brew in my head, and thankfully I was able to get some sleep.

To make an excruciatingly long story short, travel day ended up being one of my worst trips yet and culminated into me standing in the Atlanta airport at like 1am with no place to go, no option of staying inside the airport (it was like 11 degrees that night outside), and no hotels within a 45 mile radius even answering the phone…oh and no US cell phone to even be able to make phone calls.  I frantically used Facebook to make my SOS calls, posting to my wall in hopes that someone, somewhere could help me.  My anxiety was in full throttle.  I was panicking and only barely able to keep my tears from spilling all over the very nice Guatemalan man that refused to let me stay by myself until he was certain I had somewhere to go.  God bless him!

Thankfully I have awesome friends and so many folks that love me and know me well enough to meet me in my state of frantic. A dear sister drove almost an hour to pick me up at the airport and gave me sweet refuge at her home. (Her mama even had a delicious meal waiting for me upon arrival…at like 2:30am).

All ended up being fine, and I went to bed feeling so grateful for God’s care over me but also for the reminder that most people (strangers and friends alike) are really good and really generous and that sometimes those moments when we feel like we are spinning are the moments that we get to see how God really did create us for community and fellowship.

“All is well that ends well,” goes that old saying, right?

Not always.

Hubs sends me a message the next day that said something to the effect of, “Glad you are okay.  I knew it would all be fine.  I love you.  Have a great rest of your trip. But, can you stop talking about how bad it was on Facebook now.”

“What?” I didn’t even know what he was talking about.

Later in the day, some well-meaning friends start the teasing about how in hindsight, though, it really was just a “first world problem” and how I might have been treading that invisible “over-sharing” line on social media with all my posts about my travel troubles.  They definitely don't mean any harm with their comments, and I know they just like to give me a hard time because they love me, but it definitely awakens something in me. 

When I get a few minutes alone, I anxiously read through all my posts from the day before.  How many did I actually post?  Did I sound too desperate?  Was I making a big deal out of nothing?  Was I over sharing?  Should I have handled it differently?  Why can’t I handle things better?

I was giving myself a good, internal butt whooping.  I decided to go through and delete most of the posts.  I wiped the few tears that had managed to escape from my eyes and pulled up the bootstraps and tried to just move on from the whole debacle.

But internally I still wrestled.  I thought about those people I know on social media that post the endless selfies.  I remembered what other friends said about them.  I thought about the folks that “like” their own posts and a scathing post another friend wrote about people that do that.  I thought about those friends whose posts are mostly complaints or grievances and how annoyed I have felt by them in the past.  Basically I just climbed down into one big, dark social media hole. I made jokes about my “over sharing” and tried to blow the whole thing off as no big deal once I was back in Guatemala, but the whole thing just kept gnawing at me.

This morning I was reading in John.  I have been spending lots of time in the Gospels because frankly more than anything, I have just wanted to hang with Jesus.  I wanted to keep walking with Him.  And there is no better place to do that than through reading through the Gospels.

Today I found myself in John 9.  It’s like 41 verses long, so I am not going to write it all here, but I highly encourage you to go read it.  I seriously laughed out loud more than once while reading it this morning.

The gist is that there is a blind man who has been blind since birth.  The chapter starts with Jesus’ disciples arguing about whether or not this man was blind due to his own sin or because of something his parents had done.

First of all, he totally can hear them.  And I am pretty sure I would have been much more spikey and said something like, “Hey guys! I am blind, not deaf. I can hear you talking about me.”  But blind guy is already a way more self-controlled person than I am, so he just keeps chilling while Jesus gives his disciples a good talking to.

But then Jesus comes over and spits on the ground.  The Bible says that he literally “spat on the ground.”

Quick pause.

So in eighth grade, on the way to a softball game with my friend and her parents, I was sitting in the seat directly behind the driver.  The windows were all down, and her dad decided he needed to “hock a loogie” out the window.  Well we were driving pretty fast down a back road highway, and this “loogie” did not stay outside but instead came back through the back window and landed squarely on my forehead.

It was the epitome of disgusting.

So let’s just say my mind goes to Jesus basically “hocking a loogie” on the ground here.   Jesus then takes this spit and mixes it with the dirt and rubs it on the blind guy’s eyes.  I am not sure if this was a “loogie” or just spit but either way, I can attest that this will not feel that pleasant on your face.  It probably feels gross.   Jesus tells him to go wash his face.

This miracle mixture heals the blind man.  Yay!

But the chapter goes on and the Pharisees in general Pharisee fashion start freaking out.  One because Jesus did this on the Sabbath and two because they still are not yet ready to recognize that Jesus is in fact the Son of God.  Nevertheless, what ensues I found to be quite comical.  The Pharisees can’t come to a logical conclusion so they decide that the blind man must not have actually been blind, so they call his parents to get proof that this is all just one big charade.  The parents are like, “No clue who healed him but he was in fact blind since birth.  Why don’t you just ask him how it happened?  He is old enough to tell you himself.”

Cue Pharisees going back to blind man to interrogate him once again on how he regained his sight. By this point, the now seeing blind man is feeling a bit more spicy (yay for that) and says, “Guys, seriously, I ALREADY TOLD YOU! Do you want me to tell you again?” (If I could give him a standing ovation here, I probably would.)

The whole conversation ends with the Pharisees saying, in my words, “Whatever man. Who are you to even tell us what to think?  Get out of here!” Blind man then leaves. The Bible doesn’t mention where he goes just that the Pharisees kicked him out of their presence.

Now, obviously I don’t know this guy.  But if I were he, I am pretty sure I wouldn’t be feeling so great about myself at this point.  I am a HSP (Highly Sensitive Person), so I would be overanalyzing every event from that day so far.

“Let’s see, the day started with me overhearing those guys, that are always hanging around with that other guy Jesus, talk about whether or not my condition was my own fault or my parents.  The Jesus guy then hocks a loogie on the ground and uses it to make some sort of miracle potion that helps me see.  They leave, and I am left to defend myself to those haughty Pharisee guys.  They have the audacity to bring my parents into the mix and even after all that still wouldn’t believe my story and decided to just go ahead and kick me out! Talk about a crappy day”

This is my version of how that would have went down in my head, but I am guessing I am not too far off. 

Thankfully this isn’t the end of the story, though.

The most beautiful thing happens.  Jesus finds him and meets him in his mess of brokenness and confusion and maybe even hurt.  Jesus meets him there, and He gives him something even greater than his physical sight.  Blind man’s spiritual eyes are opened too and he can see that Jesus is Lord, and he worships Him.

Not gonna lie. I got a bit teary with this whole scene this morning.  I laughed and then I cried because well sometimes that is just how life goes.  

The heart of the matter is, though, that Jesus met me in my brokenness today too.  He reminded me that my weakness does not make me unqualified.  I get anxious about silly stuff sometimes.  I, more than I should, get worked up about stuff that is little and can be fixed.  I make a bigger deal out of things than I should.  I walk way to close to the line of “worst case scenario.”

I am prideful. I am sinful.  I am still in need of a Savior to come and gently meet me where I am.  I need Him to see me and my junk and to gently and lovingly remind me that He has saved me. I have new eyes to see. 

And then I need to worship Him.

It was really quite a beautiful moment for me.  Nevertheless, though, I still felt a bit of a sting as I was watching those Pharisees carry on.  How many times have I judged those selfies or “likes” or over shares on social media as being self-absorbed?  How many times have I rolled my eyes?  The Pharisees were desperate to find an answer to what they felt was a very complex question, “How can this once blind man now see?”

The answer was simple, Jesus.

When we see people in their weakness or brokenness or hurt or pain or confusion…when we see people giving us glimpses of their weaknesses, we have 2 choices. We can mock them in it.  Sure maybe we don’t do it out loud but I am guessing ALL of us have done it in our heads.  “Look at that basket case! What a mess she is?!” or “Here we go again.  Always drama!”

Or we can pick a better way.   We can pray for them.  We can show them a Jesus that meets them in their brokenness.  We don’t have to fix them.  That isn’t our job.  We don’t even have to have all the answers for them. 

Jesus says to the blind man in verse 39, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” At this point, the Pharisees panic, thinking that he is talking about them, to which Jesus replies, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt, but now that you say, ‘We see’ your guilt remains.”

Those of us that know Jesus Christ have been given sight.  We are no longer blind.   But having that sight also gives us a responsibility.   We have a responsibility to not keep walking around like we are still blind!

Additionally, it should also mean that we are not ashamed when our own weaknesses are revealed.  We don’t quickly try and delete those weaknesses away for fear of being found out.  We instead stop and stay still and wait because we are assured beyond all doubt that we have a Savior and a Lord who will meet us right where we are at.  He may not “hock a loogie” to rub over our eyes, but with certainty we can trust that He will give us sight to see what we may have been blind to once before.

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