I'm trying something a little different. Here's a testimony as if written by Thomas the Apostle:
Everyone has heard of the miracles of Jesus, how He cleansed the lepers, made the lame to walk, the deaf to hear, and even the blind to see. There are many stories told of the blind who received again their sight from His precious hands, but few remember that I was one of the first. I cannot describe the feeling of being able to see once more after so many years. I did not take my newfound sight for granted. I greedily drank up every sign and wonder that the Master showed forth. I especially never got tired of looking at the face of the One Who had given me back my sight. His countenance radiated light and warmth and love every time I looked at Him. When we laid Him in that tomb, I could no longer see the light in His eyes. It was as if I had become blind a second time. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I could not see through the tears that never ceased to flow. And then I was told that not only had He risen from the dead, but that He had shown Himself to all of His closest disciples. All of them, that is, except for me. Why? Why was I left out? When Jesus knew how important my sight was to me, and in particular the sight of His smiling face, why did He deprive only me? I could not believe it. I would not believe it. If I could not see Him with my own eyes, the eyes that He had given me, then I had no right to call myself His disciple, no reason to call myself His friend. But as at the first, so at the last. I was blind once, and had my sight restored. And I was blind again, but after seeing once more my Savior, and feeling the prints of the nails in His hands, and the beat of His living heart as He embraced me, now I see once more. I know without a shadow of a doubt that Jesus lives. I am an eyewitness of His resurrection and His glory. I saw and believed. Be better than me. Believe, even if you cannot yet see. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
