Blind Bartimaeus sat begging by the roadside. There were no welfare programs for him to count on, and no food stamps to supplement his income. He was totally at the mercy of passers by for sustenance.

That's a tragic situation for anyone, to be begging at the side of the road, hoping someone will notice and offer to help. Have you ever been in such a situation?

Some of you have been there, particularly if you've ever been young and unsure of yourself. I can imagine a young woman alone at the edge of a dance floor. She tries to act like it doesn't matter, but the truth is that she would give anything if some young man would look her way. Silly? Maybe, if you've forgotten what it's like to be young.

Or old. Walk through a ward in any nursing home and you'll see the hands reaching out. They aren't reaching for money or food. They just want a human touch-to know that somebody notices and cares.

Have you ever sat by the side of the road and cried, "O Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me?" You have if you've ever sat in an emergency room while doctors and nurses fought to save a loved one, or if you've sat beside an open grave and told a loved one goodbye.

You've been there if you've lain awake at night wondering how you would feed your family, or keep your marriage together, or help your child weather a difficult time.

The truth is that at some point in our lives each of us is a "blind Bartimaeus" sitting at the side of the road praying that someone will notice us and care. The good news is that Jesus does notice us and does care about us-just as he noticed Bartimaeus.

Jesus and his disciples, along with a large group of followers, were on the road leading out of Jericho.

Their journey took them right by where Bartimaeus sat begging. When Jesus came near, Bartimaeus cried out, "Have mercy on me, thou Son of David, have mercy on me."

People tried to get Bartimaeus to be quiet, so he wouldn't embarrass them, but they were unsuccessful.

He cried out, "Have mercy on me, thou Son of David." Jesus was moved by his simple plea, and he called for Bartimaeus. When Bartimaeus knew that Jesus was calling back to him, he jumped to his feet, cast aside his garment, and started toward the master.

The garment was probably a blanket or loose piece of cloth that beggars carried to protect them from inclement weather. But he didn't want anything to hinder him from coming into the master's presence, so he got rid of it. I wish you and I were that eager to come to Jesus.

In 1773, a great revival was sweeping across America. Evangelists on horseback proclaimed the good news of Jesus Christ, and they were getting a startling response. Hearts were being touched, lives were being changed, and men and women of both races were being converted.

A few months after one of these revivals a white man and a black man were discussing its effect on their lives. The white man said, "For three months after that revival, I suffered in an awful turmoil before God spoke to my soul and gave me peace."

The black man replied, "I know what you mean. I went through the same thing for nearly two weeks myself."

The white man was disturbed by this news. "Why is it that God spoke to you so much sooner than He did to me?"

The black man answered kindly, "The reason is that you white men have so much clothing on you. When Christ calls, you can't run to him. But us poor colored folk usually have only one ragged coat. When we hear his call, we can throw it off instantly and run to him."

That story reflects an unfortunate social situation that even a century of progress has not rectified, but it is also a simple way of stating a profound truth. Some of us would have to throw off so many outer layers, such as our sophistication, our somewhat cynicism, and our secular preoccupation with material security that it is difficult for us to run gladly to Jesus as Bartimaeus did. Jesus saw Bartimaeus in need, and he cared.

My friends, he cares about every one of us who is sitting at the side of the road. You know that important truth in your heart, but have you ever totally accepted it with your mind?

It is easy to have misgivings about God's love for us. After all, this world is huge. How could I possibly believe that God cares about me?

It is difficult to imagine how vast our universe really is. The current estimate is that our galaxy, the Milky Way, contains about 100 billion stars, many of them in clusters of hundreds of thousands. The Milky Way itself is approximately 600 million billion miles across, and yet it is only a small part of a local cluster made up of about 20 galaxies. There are estimated to be more than 10 billion galaxies filling just the observable universe, let alone what we can't see.

National Geographic's publication The Amazing Universe tries to bring these dimensions into focus. "The universe extends so far that we need simplified comparisons to grasp even its relative dimensions. If the scale were reduced a trillion times so that the sun became the size of a pinhead; then the entire solar system would fit inside a large living room. The nearest star would be 26 miles away. The Milky Way would then become about 600,000 miles in diameter [the earth itself is not even 8,000 miles in diameter], dotted with 100 billion sparkling pinheads." When you consider the vastness of creation, the Biblical question, "What is man that Thou art mindful of him?" becomes exceptionally important.

Harry Emerson Fosdick dealt with this question many years ago in his book, The Meaning of Prayer. He reminded us that we don't always judge value based on size. While we were still children we learned that a dime has more value than a nickel, even though the nickel is larger.

We can dig a two-ton rock out of the ground and it will not be as valuable as a two-ounce diamond. Put that diamond on the third finger of the left hand of a woman, and the value increases infinitely. We don't love a baby any less because of its size. If we don't judge value on the basis of size, why should God? We may be a very tiny part of God's creation, but we're far from insignificant. Every bit of evidence from both theology and science supports the proposition that this world was created on our behalf, and we are the most prized creatures in it.

But there are so many of us for God to love. There are over five billion people on earth right now. How could God know and care about each of us as individuals? Is God like the old woman who lived in the shoe, who had so many children she didn't know what to do?

Dr. Fosdick helps us here as well. He reminds us that the more you know about a subject, the less you think in terms of the universal or the general and the more you think in terms of the specific or the individual.

Let's consider some examples.

An illiterate man wanders into a large downtown library. On either side there are rows upon rows of books. What do they mean to him? He can't read. What does he see? Don't you imagine that what he sees is just one big sea of books? "My," he says, "look at all these books." Just a bunch of books, all very much alike-that's what he sees.

But what about the librarian? What does she see? Probably not a bunch of books. She has seen these books come in from the publishers. She has helped sort and catalog them. She has checked them out to people, reshelved them, hunted some of them for customers, and has probably read several of them. She thinks in terms of individual books, individual authors, individual subject matters. The more people know about books, the less they view them as a sea of literature and the more they view them as individual books.

Let's use another example.

Some of us know nothing about what goes on under the hood of a car. Today, most cars come with all kinds of standard features, such as power steering, power brakes, air conditioning, and cruise control. But these features make things a lot more complicated than they used to be. Suppose we have car trouble on a deserted road? We open the hood of the car, but what do we see? We'll probably see a meaningless mass of stuff. We throw up our hands in frustration and call for a tow truck.

A mechanic at the garage looks under the hood, but he doesn't see a mess. He sees individual parts positioned in the correct places. He runs diagnostic computer tests and then repairs the car, without even having to search for the defective part, because he knows exactly where to find it in that mess under the hood. The more you know about cars, the more you understand its individual parts.

Here's another example.

Suppose we went to Mexico City, or Tokyo-the two largest cities in the world. We go downtown. It's rush hour, and there are thousands of busy people in the streets. What is our first impression likely to be? We will probably just see a great mass of faces that all look alike.

If we were to stay awhile in one of those great cities and came to know and love certain people there, and understood their culture, they would no longer all look the same to us. We would see them as individuals. God knows every single person in the world by name. He knows every Israeli and Palestinian by name. He knows every child in Zambia and South Africa by name. He knows all of us by name.

The more you know about any subject, the less you think in general terms and the more you think in individual terms. God knows everything about every one of us. He is the source of all knowledge and truth. He does not see us as just a sea of humanity. He sees us and loves us as individuals.

Jesus saw Bartimaeus and cared about the poor beggar's blindness. He called for Bartimaeus to come to him. Bartimaeus responded eagerly. He cast off his garment and came to Jesus. "What would you ask of me?" Jesus asked him. "Restore my sight," begged Bartimaeus. And Jesus answered, "Your faith has made you well."

Our faith can heal those of us who are sitting by the side of the road today. Would you eagerly cast off your garment and come to Jesus? Can you believe that the God of this vast universe cares about your needs and will see you through whatever crisis you are confronting? There is healing in faith like this.

When Jesus wanted to illustrate the love of the Father, he pointed to a tiny sparrow and asked, "Are you not of more value than they?" We are of infinite value to the Father. He cares about us as individuals. All that we need to do is open our hearts and let His love dwell within.