I believe … but
Read
“Out of the crowd, one man answered Him, ‘Teacher, I brought my son to You. He has a spirit that makes him unable to speak. Wherever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams at the mouth, grinds his teeth, and becomes rigid. So I asked Your disciples to drive it out, but they couldn’t.’ He replied to them, ‘You unbelieving generation! How long will I be with you? How long must I put up with you? Bring him to me.’ So they brought him to Him. When the spirit saw Him, it immediately convulsed the boy. He fell to the ground and rolled around, foaming at the mouth. ‘How long has this been happening to him?’ Jesus asked his father. ‘From childhood,’ he said. ‘And many times it has thrown him into fire or water to destroy him. But if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.’ Then Jesus replied, ‘If You can? Everything is possible to the one who believes.’ Immediately the father of the boy cried out, ‘I do believe! Help my unbelief.’ Mark 9:17-24
Reflect
Impossibilities surround us.
Mountainous heartbreak and cavernous disappointment loom like regrettably familiar shadows. Predictable patterns of insoluble problems leave us blind at the point of crisis. We vent and flail, trying with all our might to mend wounds intractable. Medicate. Stimulate. Compensate. Sometimes it feels like suffocation.
“From childhood…”
The entry point of accusation—not against our ability, but God’s—presents itself early in our lives. Emotional wounds, falsehoods our families assented to, and fears no one came to assuage have served to bind us to the voice of doubt rather than the voice of Truth under the guise of level-headedness—stifling our expressions of wonder and the testimony of the unfathomable love of God.
But everything is possible.
In the passage above we find a father who loved his boy so deeply he was willing to wade through his own disbelief—he had, after all, witnessed the lifelong, constant trauma of his child—and throw both of their lives at the feet of the compassion of Jesus. This act was just as much for the father as it was for the son.
Still there was more for this family. It took the voice of Jesus—who is interceding on our behalf this very moment (Romans 8:34)—to break generational thought patterns and set loose a new and better confession, “I believe! Help my unbelief.”
We enter into the Presence of Jesus today with our own impossible circumstances—risking to trust like never before in His absolute ability and willingness to deliver us.
Pray
(With hands on heart)
Jesus, I confess today all agreements I’ve made with accusations against Your ability to deliver me. I repent and turn to You, the Lover of my soul.
Lord, have mercy
Father, I repent for hidden agreements in my mind and heart with the lie that You are apathetic towards your children. I break all bonds that have silenced my thanksgiving to You.
Christ, have mercy
(Resting hands on knees, palms facing up)
Holy Spirit, fill my life to overflow with the remembrance of Your powerful goodness to me. I recall Your faithfulness and recount the miraculous things You’ve done.
Lord, have mercy
Mighty God, give me a garment of praise in exchange for this spirit of heaviness. Put a song in my mouth and I will sing it.
Christ, have mercy
(Lifting hands to the Lord)
With my mouth I make a new declaration—You are both willing and able! From my heart I pour forth thanksgiving. How wonderful are Your works!
Lord, have mercy
I thank You, God, for Your abundant compassion. It is my joy to bring this offering to You, King.
Christ, have mercy
Amen