As many do, I had my favorite seat in church that I always gravitated to, third from the back on the right. That’s where you would find me. Across the aisle from me was a sweet older lady who always took her same seat also, but she found her spot from having memorized the layout of the sanctuary. This quiet lady was blind.
Early, before services began, a handicap transport van arrived at the front entrance of the church. The driver would escort her and her service dog into the sanctuary, but she had memorized the steps and turns to find her seat. Along with her companion by her side, she was independent and anxious to participate in the worship service.
My mind wondered how different a worship service would be for me if I couldn’t see everything going on around me. I wouldn’t be looking around to see who was in attendance and what they were wearing. I would only hear the music but wouldn’t know the musicians’ ages, skin color, or style. I wouldn’t see the instruments but would only hear the blending of sounds they made. I would listen to the words from the pastor, and the scripture he read, without judging him by his age, clothes, and mannerisms. It would be easier to focus on God and not what was going on around me.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the gift of sight that I have that lets me see sunsets and the faces of my beautiful grandchildren. I must wonder, however, as I look at this sweet lady and her dog, if she doesn’t receive the presence of God on a whole different level than me. Maybe I’m really the one who is blind because I don’t see all that the Lord is giving me when I’m in a worship service. I have a front row seat to hear the scriptures, auditory prayers being lifted up to heaven, music, and the words of songs inspired by God. It’s something to think about.
(Ps. 146:8)….”The Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous.”