I was at work in the usually vacant waiting room. It wasn’t before long until a hunched-over, semi-crippled blind man was escorted in and eventually sat down to then be left by himself. Alone and in the corner, all he had was a drink and cane, both of which he occasionally fidgeted around for out of need. He looked particularly disturbed, but most attentive to the softest of noises which surrounded him; though, unaware of my presence.

He would hear I suppose clues of my presence; look up, tense his face as though in great pain, and begin audibly surveying the atmosphere and soon look away, leaving me wonder whether or not thought himself to be alone. He must have sat there making those dreadful expressions for about an hour by himself without knowing of my being there. Unaware that if he were to call out in need, I’d be right there to assist him in any way I could. Unaware that I was available to guide him wherever he wished—a hand to help him on his way. Unaware that I unconditionally had compassion for his soul and was thus given to the thoughts of God.

Besides the fact that it made me think so deeply into the things of God that I cried, it reminded me of the relationship Christ has to us in all of our lives at some point. So often we stumble along in similarly blind situations. So often we might need to call out for help beyond us. So often receiving hints of omnipresence. But, so often concluding it to be nothing but the wind.