Why clay, Lord?

 March 15, 2026 

Gospel: John 9:1–41

Lord, today I linger over that strange and tender moment in the Gospel.  You “spat on the ground, made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay” on the blind man’s eyes. Then You told him to “go wash in the pool of Siloam.”

Why clay and spittle, Lord? While I find it moving, it’s also physical and messy—forgive me for thinking so.  You could have healed him with a single word.

Were You perhaps reminding us of something ancient—that we were formed from the dust of the earth? But as the story unfolds, I see that with that clay in Your hands, it is almost as if You are creating again, touching the place of darkness—the blindness of those who have eyes but refuse to see the truth—and shaping it into sight.

Thank You, Jesus, for those moments You gently shed light on my blindness, and coming close to touch the very places where I cannot see. Sometimes Your grace feels uncomfortable, even humbling—like clay pressed over my eyes—but I need it to accept and obey, and “go wash in the pool of Siloam.” 

Prayer:  Dear Jesus, teach me not to trust my own certainties, not to resist Your hand upon my eyes, even when it feels like clay. Keep me at Your feet, Lord, that when I witness to Your power I may have the courage to say, "One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”  Amen.

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With Him, each day


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