What would you have me do for you?

Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The man replied, “My Master, please, let me see again!” Mark 10:51 (TPT) 

This is the question Jesus asked blind Bartimaeus. Years ago I was meditating on this story, imagining myself there as one in the crowd. I closed my eyes and put myself into the story, tasting the dust kicked up by the crowd, feeling the pushing of bodies to get closer to Jesus, and hearing the commotion when the blind man started yelling for Jesus. I was there as an observer, immersed in the story. It was like a lucid dream, where I was in the story, and yet in control of it’s movement—until a certain point. Then the whole thing took an unexpected turn.

I listened intently when the crowd hushed as Jesus stood face to face with Bartimaeus. Jesus asked the blind man, “What would you have me do for you?” “I want to see” he said. I pushed forward in the crowd to get a better view of all this. I couldn’t see Bartimaeus because Jesus’ back was to me, blocking my view. Jesus was about to heal him and I wanted to see it happen. And then the crowd exploded in exclamations of wonder.

I knew Jesus had healed him, and Bartimaeus was discovering the wonder of sight. A little frustrated at having missed it, I had the fleeting thought to rerun the scene and put myself in a different location to get a better view. But the scene continued to play out before me and took an unexpected turn. Jesus turned around, the crowd parted as if to let him continue on the road, and there I was standing in his way. I stood not 5 feet from Jesus, face to face.

I realized I was no longer in control of this unfolding scene. A hush came over the crowd as we stood there. Jesus looked directly at me and asked, “And what would you have me do for you?”

A wave of emotion crashed over me. Jesus had injected himself into my scene and was asking me this question. Right here. Right now. There was an awkward silence, but he just looked at me and waited. I had no answer. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what I wanted from God. I snapped my eyes open and withdrew myself from the scene. 

That was many years ago, and yet the moment stays with me even today. Since then I have struggled to answer that question. Believing that God will grant my request, my answer weighs upon me. Granted, its not as if God will ask me this question only once in my lifetime. But if I think that I will have ten thousand granted requests and this is just one of them, then I miss the significance of this interaction between myself and God.

I take the question to be about my heart, not my immediate need. It is a question about what is important to me. I can do anything your heart desires. What would you have me do for you?

Over the years I came up with various answers, some better than others, but none that satisfied the heart. Until now. It’s been quite a journey, and it saddens me to think that it took so long. But now I can face him and answer his question without hesitation.

If Bartimaeus were to give my answer, I imagine there would be murmuring in the crown. Jesus might raise his eyebrows and say, “You don’t know what you’re asking.” He would be right. I feel the weight of it. I don’t really understand the implications of what I’m asking. And yet my heart replies to him, “But this is my answer.”

I know that I am, at this moment, incapable of bearing the answer to my request. And yet I do not withdraw it. I feel his question today more than ever. “What would you have me do for you?”

My heart answers with one thing. There is no more waffling about which of many possible answers might be better, or which might be more important.

“I want….”

But wait. If I share my answer, then that will distract you from your answer. I pray that you will find your answer earlier in life than did I. Jesus is here and he has a question.

“What will you have me do for you?”