And Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

And the blind man said to him, “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.”

Mark 10:51 ESV

I could hear the low rumble of my car’s motor as the cool air from the ac blew strands of hair into my face. The summer heat in the South pushed a band of perspiration across my forehead, and with one swipe of my hand I pushed back the hair, patted the sweat, and wiped a stray tear from my eye.

The summer of 2019 was a rough season for me as depression sunk deep into my soul. The welcome of new crops to the local farms signaled new life all around me, but I felt like I was slowly dying. I couldn’t contribute this heaviness to just one thing. There was a list of uncertainties consuming me.

That’s why, for the second time on that same Sunday, I drove back to church in hopes of hearing something that would shake me out of the doldrums that I felt locked inside. As my grip tightened around the steering wheel, I whispered the same words again, “Help me, Lord.”