A memory has been slowly excavating for a day. The Elixir of Knowledge finishes the work by taking me back through the decades to my freshman year of college.
Yeah.
"That's waaaaay back, Mr. Peabody."
(And if you understand that reference, you're goin' a-ways back, too.)
There was this guy a couple years up the food chain from a freshman. Nice guy.
The first thing you notice about C is that he can't.
C can't see.
He was born blind and going to college in the early '70s.
Some of his course material was on 33 1/3 LPs. He'd play 'em at 45 if he needed to "skim 'em".
He walked around the campus sidewalks, stopping occasionally to clap, the echo from the buildings telling him where he was.
On windy days, he might stop you with a smile and ask where he was.
Once, he and a sightless friend were the guest speakers at the weekly Sunday night get-together in the Student Lounge.
"Okay, guys," he grinned, "it's time to find out everything you ever wanted to know about being blind."
So C and his buddy spent the next hour and a half letting us into their world.
The questions were honest, the answers given with smiles and laughter.
"What bothers you most about people who can see?"
Both guys laughed. C answered.
"I'm blind - not DEAF! My hearing is probably 10 times better than yours."
"What amazes you most about people that can see?"
A look of puzzlement and awe came over C's face.
"How you guys can pick something up the first time, every time."
Then there was the day of the big storm when the power was knocked out over the entire campus.
I was heading for the Student Union located under the cafeteria.
Down there was a smattering of classrooms, the student post office, and the grill/snack shop.
And no windows.
It was completely dark.
I was standing at the top of the stairs that led down to the side exit to the Student Union.
The door opened and C popped out. He was holding a hand which in turn held another hand which held another.
C held the door open and grinned.
"Can you make it from here?"
A line of eight students blinked their way past him, mumbled thanks, and headed up the stairs.
C scurried back into the darkness, the door closing behind him.
So why did God let C be born with non-functioning eyes?
Why would a loving God do that?
I dunno.
But one of the reasons might be to show a freshman from Iowa what courage, humor, and trust in God could do.
No matter what the circumstances.
And decades later, to remind said freshman He loves us so much that He gives each of us what we need to know Him better.
Because He is the best thing we could ever get.
I was reminded of this while driving back from work yesterday. The radio filled the car with a most remarkable song.
Laura Story was singing a tune called "Blessings".
Give it a listen.
I think C would've loved it.