this phrase has been lurking just below the surface of my mind, like the scoby in the bottom of a bottle of kombucha. every so often the bottle gets shaken and the sediment spins up clouding the clear liquid and the thoughts surrounding this phrase obscure everything else i'm seeing.
do you want to get well?
the voice that asks is kind. it's not a mocking or ironic question, as observers might think. after all, you're asking a cripple if he wants to walk. does a blind man want to see? is the sky blue? such an obvious question anyone might say. and if you were sitting by that still pool you might think, as that man did, that the kind eyes of the questioner doesn't see why you aren't the first into the pool so you might explain why you haven't been healed.
do you want to get well?
i've tried. i've done the 12 steps. or i've seen so many different physicians. a new diet every year. my jeans are worn through from kneeling. but i don't seem to get there. that old habit keeps tripping me up. i'm waiting on Him to fix me. someday it will all work out. has your issue become your identity?
do you want to get well?
the question probes deeper than the explanations or excuses. the pool was crowded that day. full of people who had learned to live with disappointed hope. getting well means the wholeness, no excuses. go and sin no more.
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