What might the man born blind have seen before Jesus touched his eyes and told him to wash at the Siloam pool? To discover the answer, I would have to write the story.

Years ago, I got to present awards to the contest winners at a North Texas Christian Writers conference. From the registrations, I knew names, but most of them were strangers to me. I did notice one young lady as she walked in what a white cane, her mother holding her arm. I was greeting so many people at the time, I didn’t get her name, but I was impressed. I never expected a blind person to have an interest in writing.

What would I do if I were blind? Could I still be a writer? That would be tough, because most people write about what they see. If I were blind, I could only describe my surroundings with the other senses, what I heard, touched, smelled, and tasted. I wanted to talk to her but didn’t have the chance.

One by one, I called names and presented the different awards for first- and second-place winners, for fiction and nonfiction, for short stories and articles. Then came the poetry category with the second-place winner and finally, I said, “The first-place winner is Mary Sefzik, for her poem, “Hands.” I’d read her poem and knew it was excellent.

I wasn’t surprised until I saw two people stand to come forward—the blind lady and her mother. Suddenly, her poem meant so much more, because she wrote about the touch of people’s hands: her friend, her mother, her grandfather—and then, God’s hands. The thought brought tears to my eyes, and I turned away for a moment, to regain my composure.

Mary was blind and had written well. What about the rest of us? We have the whole world before our eyes and don’t know the meaning of what we see, let alone how to describe it.

Maybe you remember what Jesus said to some Pharisees after healing a blind man. “If you were blind,” Jesus said, “you would be blameless. But because you say you can see, you remain blind” (John 9:41). When blind people follow blind leaders, they both fall into the ditch (Matthew 15:14). Which do you think is worse, physical or spiritual blindness? I certainly didn’t want to be among those who thought they could see but were blind.

Some people say, “Seeing is believing.” I don’t think so, because we tend to see what we want and ignore the rest. Jesus said to Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen me, yet believe” (John 20:29). Perhaps, if I knew what it was like to be blind, I might see better, myself.

If you want to know what it was like to be blind, be told there was no hope, yet believing and desperately searching for answers, you’ll love reading Born Blind: Voice of a Visionary.