I realized this morning that my website was down. Again. I called my IT guy/husband and asked him if he could please check to see if it would come up on his end. Sure enough. Down.

Since I was getting children ready for swim practice, and the mom taxi was about to take off, I asked him if he could call Webhero for me. He is my IT guy, after all. I pay him big bucks for this.

He agreed to take care of it for me, and I went about my routine. On the way home from dropping off our littlest swimmer at the pool, I called him for a status update.

Long story short, my IT guy accidentally canceled my site. Nada. Nothing. The folks at Webhero would have to rebuild my site. “It should be up in a couple of hours,” he said.

Nice! A couple of hours.

Good thing I had my quiet time this morning. I think I was mentally and spiritually prepared. Of course it helped that Peter was sincerely apologetic and readily admitted it was his fault. Dale Carnegie would be proud. Peter said he was sorry and I told him I forgave him. And frankly, at that point, there wasn’t anything either of us could do about it. No sense getting upset.

Peter observed that the timing was interesting and how the enemy often tries to get a foothold into our lives.  I’ve written some pretty honest, passionate posts lately and I believe God is at work through those words. It was just the perspective I needed. After we finished our conversation, I began to pray.

“God, you can use all of this for my good and your glory. I bless you. I lift up the name of Jesus. Father, grant great skill to the technicians who are restoring my site.”

And that’s when it hit me. Restoring site. Restoring sight.

Restoring sight.

Just last week I read the account of Jesus healing the man who was blind from birth. You can read it in John 9:1-34. As I read that passage, something stood out on the page. (I’ve learned to pay attention to those kairos moments. God speaks through them.)

After the man is healed, the religious folks of the day were upset. Jesus didn’t follow their rules. He healed on a day that they had turned into something rather legalistic. They were more concerned about their rules than they were with the miracle of someone regaining sight. The religious leaders, the people who should have known better, discounted the miracle. The Bible says, “They didn’t believe that he had been blind and received his sight…”

So they asked the parents. “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?”

But here’s the part that gets me. The parents, who knew their grown son had been born blind, and could now see, those same parents who should be rejoicing at the miraculous healing their son experienced at the hands of Jesus, were more worried about being thrown out of the religious institution of the day.

So instead of marveling at their son’s opened eyes, rejoicing in his newly found sight, proclaiming it for all to hear, they cowered. Passed the buck.

“He’s of age. Ask him for himself.”

Seriously? Are you kidding me?

Granted, the thought of being cast out is less than desirable. Community? Faith? Ritual? All good things, given the right context. But come on! Your son just went through a major life change. He can see. HE CAN SEE!

Don’t you feel like shouting? Don’t you want to tell everyone the story? What are you so stinkin’ afraid of?

I’m finding it difficult to relate to the parents’ reaction. When I see the goodness of God, and how He’s moved and worked in my life and in the lives of others, my response is one of gratitude, praise and proclamation.

Sadly, too often we see the same kind of fearful reaction in churches today.  Some people discount the miracles of Jesus because they don’t fit neatly into how it “should” be done.

Like the man who was formerly blind, I don’t always understand how (or why) God works. I believe Jesus is still in the business of healing. And I also believe that the ways in which He brings about healing continue to threaten the religious establishment of the day.

When God restores our sight, may our response be the same as the man who was born blind.

“One thing I know: That though I was blind, now I see.”

How about you?
How do you handle technology issues? What’s your response to the healing work of God in your life or in the lives of others? And finally, tell me about your last kairos moment.