“And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes,

and his sight was restored.”–Acts 9:18a

This week marks one year since my retirement.  The past twelve months have brought all kinds of adjustments and nearly all of them good ones. Yet the anniversary has also caused me to think back on the blur of activity in those final weeks of my active ministry. There were the “last” occasions of particular vocational acts–sermons, baptisms, funerals and staff meetings. Yet there were also many kind words and gestures to Lori and me that marked the winding-down of our respective careers. One of the most memorable came a few weeks into our new life. 

I received an email from a man named Steve who was a faithful member and supporter of my ministry.  His wife, two children, and he were deeply engaged from the first day they joined the congregation. Among their acts of service had been church officer and staff member, small group leader and musician, lay reader and Church School teacher, youth group participant and more. They model what any pastor hopes for with all members, but does not always see. Add in their constant words of encouragement and you can begin to understand the gift they were.  

In the email, Steve asked if he could drop by our home.  When the day arrived, he walked in carrying a wrapped package. Upon opening, I found the amazing pencil drawing you see above; a depiction of the main stained glass window in our sanctuary.  I didn’t even know Steve had such artistic ability. He said, “I figured this was the view you had every Sunday morning that you stepped into the pulpit. I wanted you to have it as a memento of your service to our church.” Lori and I both reacted with joy and said that we knew the exact place to hang it. It is there still. 

As you can see, it is an incredible piece of art, but what also struck me was the detail I had never noticed.  For 20 years, I had looked in the direction of that window, allowed its depictions to serve as a teaching tool for children and always treasured the colors they brought to our worship space. Even so, Steve’s gift allowed me to see things I had not seen before. Saul’s conversion tells of that happening, too. 

The ninth chapter of Acts opens with Luke telling of one named Saul who was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”  While on the road, he encountered a flash of light that drove him to his knees. A voice cries out “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” When the encounter with Christ ended, Saul was unable to see. That physical condition endured for three days, until a reluctant disciple named Ananaias was sent to Saul with a message. When the word was delivered we are told that “immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored.” Saul got up, was baptized and soon regained his strength. From that moment on, Saul would be known as Paul, the great evangelist for the Christian faith.  

How about you?  Who are those people who have provided a similar blessing to you? Perhaps it wasn’t through a piece of art or a dramatic regaining of sight, but rather in the words spoken by a friend that cut through the haze of your confusion. Perhaps it came when you encountered someone facing a challenge unlike any that you had known before and find that in making a personal connection a long-held conviction was changed. Or maybe it came while in a time of prayer or reading a devotion, in singing a hymn or listening to a sermon when you received clarity for something that had been missing. The format varies, but the gift is the same.  

Sometime today, I encourage you to think back to the people who have had that kind of impact for you and offer a prayer of gratitude for them or drop them a note. At the same time, I hope you will at least consider the possibility that for someone else today, the messenger they most need is you. 

Lord, thank you for those moments when scales fell from our eyes and for the person who brought that gift. Inspire us, too, to be such a messenger for someone else. Amen.