beBetter 

Last week, I told the story I told about the blind man I had observed at church and at the gym. If you haven't read it, you might want to click here and give it a quick read so this blog will make more sense to you. Shortly after I wrote that blog, I finally met the man whom I had written about. 

God seems to do things like that sometimes to keep me focused! I was at the gym one morning and before I could check in, the blind man walked in and came up to the counter. As you might expect from my first blog, he walked right to the counter just like he could see and talked to the staff person who obviously knew him. 

I really had a tight schedule that day, so I turned my back and began to take off my jacket and proceed into the workout area. Then, I remembered my commitment to meet him and share with him how much he had inspired me. So, I pushed out of my comfort zone and I went over and introduced myself.

I often speak about having the courage to challenge the status quo. Recently, in a personal experience, I realized how blinded I am to real courage and how little courage I actually have. I witnessed an example of real courage that makes the courage I need each day pale in comparison.

My wife and I frequently attend mass at St. Francis on Sunday morning and I began to notice on numerous occasions, a middle-aged man who is blind. What surprises me is that when we begin the Holy Communion to receive the bread and the wine, he doesn’t remain seated. Each row, starting with the first row, files into the center aisle and follow each other up to the alter where we receive the blessed sacraments. Then we walk back to our pew on the opposite side and kneel until everyone has partaken of Holy Communion. Now, this man rises and follows his row (usually unassisted) to the center, and makes his way to the front and partakes of the bread and wine as everyone else does, then finds his way back to his seat. 

He uses a long cane to find his way in front of him. He moves very slowly and methodically, but it is obvious he has an incredible desire to participate like everyone else. He could sit on the back row and have the sacraments brought to him, but he doesn’t. How much courage does this take?