Most days
I wish I was braver
than I am.
I think of when I was younger
and how I painted my life,
how I hoped I’d be.
Praying for beauty
and bravery,
without really knowing
what either of those things
really were.

I’ve been searching
for it though.
Opening books,
doors, and wounds
in hopes that one day
my eyes might be opened to it.
Yet even in my seeking
I can be blind.
Like the beggar
who called to Jesus
pleading for mercy.
Sightless in his journey
through the crowd
but a traveler nonetheless.
His movement toward the Lord,
doused in pain and
a hope for healing.

I take heart in his reaching-
when Christ showed me
that courage was not
found in what the blind man
asked for,
but that he asked
for anything at all,
and believed it would
be given to him.

– aac