He would do anything to save his son. He would die in his place if he could. He would take on all the pain and suffering, if only his son could be spared. But day after day he had to watch in helpless rage as his son was seized and tormented, as he convulsed and threw himself into the fire or the water. Time after time he had saved his son's life, only to wonder what kind of life he was
He was not afraid to call it what it was. A demon. A spirit who bound up the life of his boy in silent, hopeless agony.
He heard the amazing stories of this Prophet and His followers. By now his pride was long gone. He would do anything.
It took all his courage to come. This moment held all the hope he had left.
And they failed him.
Try as they would, the disciples could not heal the boy. And the know-it-all scribes swooped in and started doing what they do best.
The debating turned to arguing and the arguing to finger-pointing, and the man and his son were forgotten in the quest to be right.
Then Jesus walked in, and the people "were greatly amazed." Oh yeah. Jesus.
They hadn't been expecting Him.
And the father starts his explanation for the hundredth time and in his heart he's thinking, I already tried this. He doesn't want to hope anymore. It hurts too much. "If You can do anything," he chokes out, "have compassion on us and help us."
If You can.
But Jesus, He's just come down from the mountain where He heard the voice of God. I can see the gentle smile curving His face, the hand on the shoulder of the broken man.
"If you can believe, all things are possible."
He turns the statement back to the man who has given up. If you can.
And something in the voice and touch of Jesus sparks the tiniest bit of hope, and the tears come, and he cries out, "Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief."
And Jesus gets it. That wanting so badly to believe after every other hope has failed.
Sometimes we have to come to Him before we can believe.
Sometimes everything in us screams that He is unfair. Unjust. Distant. Cruel. We wonder if He is even there, and if He is, then how could He allow this? We look at His followers who have failed us and hurt us and broken our trust.
We don't want a God like that.
Fear chokes our belief and keeps us from Him.
Then Jesus walks in.
And Jesus isn't everyone else. Saturated with the Father's presence, He is all love, all light. And he takes that little sliver of faith and draws the man in. He heals.
Sometimes it is all we can do just to come. But that's all He asks. He draws us in, and we see His love, and then we believe (1 Jn. 4:16).
The more we are in His love, the less we fear. Because His love is perfect, and "perfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn. 4:18).
"He who fears has not been made perfect in love."
He wants to make us perfect. And He exposes our fears, little by little, and abiding in Him is a continuous act of coming, believing, letting His love cast out the demons.
It's an act we choose. Over and over. And sometimes it feels like pruning, because it is. The cutting away of all that keeps us from His love.
And what if we are the disciples? What if we long to serve Him, be like Him, shine Him in this world, but we fail?
"This kind can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting" (Mark 9:29).
I think that He succeeded with the demon-possessed boy not just because He was Jesus, but because He knew He needed to be with the Father. In spite of the crowds pressing and the needs clamoring for His attention, He went to the mountain and listened.
He knew His Father's words, and He was free from fear.
"He who abides in love abides in God, and God in him" (1 Jn. 4:16).
God was in Him.
"If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you" (John 15:7).
The more you are in Him, the more He is in you. And His desires become your desires, and fear melts away when you know Him and remember His faithfulness. And then you really do bear fruit.
Are you the father, trembling and fearful, struggling to believe?
Are you a disciple, trying--and failing--to walk in His steps?
Either way, He asks you to come.
Believe.
Day 16 of Abide: 31 Days of Resting in Him
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