All of my weary (and not weary) friends need to go sit alone in their unmoving car, close their eyes, and listen to Chris Tomlin's song, I Lift My Hands...
It's a cry to heaven for all of us who long to believe...
I know some women with great, unwavering faith. My mom is one of those women.
She just believes God. She believes Him with every ounce of her being. She's like Peter. She'd jump overboard into a sea just to get to Jesus.
I'd wait for Him to walk to me. I don't really like water.
Apparently that faith-gene skips a generation.
I hear Chris Tomlin's song and my soul just reaches up to heaven along with my hands...
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength.
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
Mark 9:14-24
The situation was hopeless. A father reaching out for Jesus. There was nowhere else to go. No cure had been found. No other chance for help.
Maybe...maybe this man who works miracles could do something...
Through the crowd, the father cries out to Jesus, "Teacher, I brought you my son."
Among the crowd, the son is brought forward--possessed by an evil spirit--seizing, foaming at the mouth, and gnashing his teeth before the people that had gathered. I imagine those closest to the scene stepped back. Maybe some further away craned their necks to get a better view.
I imagine this weary father digging deep in his heart to feel any sort of hope. He'd probably been disappointed so many times before. But maybe...
"How long as he been like this?" Jesus asks.
"From childhood. It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him." I wonder if the father even had any memories of his son before this spirit had possessed him. I wonder if the father had searched endlessly for help only to face continual rejection.
"But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us," the father pleads.
"If you can do anything, help us." Desperation. There was nowhere else to turn.
I wonder what Jesus did before he spoke to this father. I wonder if he looked deep in the father's eyes with compassion. Maybe Jesus even reached out and put his hand on the tired shoulders of the father.
Could it be possible?
"If you can?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes."
Everything is possible for him who believes.
Can't you imagine the joy piercing through the darkness in this father's soul? The praise that must have raced through his body. His mind echoing the truth that had just been spoken. It's possible. It's actually possible. My son could be healed.
I can hear the father immediately exclaiming, "I do believe!" I do believe.
I envision a pause before the next statement. I don't know why I always read the story with a pause at this point. I just imagine that as he spoke boldly his belief, there was a simultaneous recognition of the possibility that maybe he didn't really fully believe. That he needed help to believe.
"Help me overcome my unbelief!" the father says.
Do you think he whispered it?
Do you think he fell to his knees before this Savior and begged for belief?
Do you think he raised his hands to believe again?
I always think of this passage in the Bible whenever I hear Chris Tomlin's song, I Lift My Hands. I've always imagined the father raising his hands to Jesus. His soul longing for belief. I lift my hands to believe you. Help me believe you.
Here's the words to the song:
Be still. There is a healer.
His love is deeper than the sea.
His mercy is unfailing.
His arms a fortress for the weak.
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength
As I pour out my heart,these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
Be still. There is a river.
That flows from Calvary's tree.
A fountain for the thirsty.
Your grace that washes over me.
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength.
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
I lift my hands to believe again...
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I sat alone in my car tonight, closed my eyes as this song came on the radio, and the wee little mustard seed of faith that God gave me grew as I reached my hands up to believe again...
Help me believe you, Lord.
And I beg you to help me overcome my massive amounts of unbelief.
The father walked away with a healed son.
I drove away refreshed.
One was a true miracle.
Mine felt like a gift.
The gift of refreshed faith.
I lift my hands to believe again...
Let faith arise...
It's a cry to heaven for all of us who long to believe...
I know some women with great, unwavering faith. My mom is one of those women.
She just believes God. She believes Him with every ounce of her being. She's like Peter. She'd jump overboard into a sea just to get to Jesus.
I'd wait for Him to walk to me. I don't really like water.
Apparently that faith-gene skips a generation.
I hear Chris Tomlin's song and my soul just reaches up to heaven along with my hands...
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength.
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
Mark 9:14-24
The situation was hopeless. A father reaching out for Jesus. There was nowhere else to go. No cure had been found. No other chance for help.
Maybe...maybe this man who works miracles could do something...
Through the crowd, the father cries out to Jesus, "Teacher, I brought you my son."
Among the crowd, the son is brought forward--possessed by an evil spirit--seizing, foaming at the mouth, and gnashing his teeth before the people that had gathered. I imagine those closest to the scene stepped back. Maybe some further away craned their necks to get a better view.
I imagine this weary father digging deep in his heart to feel any sort of hope. He'd probably been disappointed so many times before. But maybe...
"How long as he been like this?" Jesus asks.
"From childhood. It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him." I wonder if the father even had any memories of his son before this spirit had possessed him. I wonder if the father had searched endlessly for help only to face continual rejection.
"But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us," the father pleads.
"If you can do anything, help us." Desperation. There was nowhere else to turn.
I wonder what Jesus did before he spoke to this father. I wonder if he looked deep in the father's eyes with compassion. Maybe Jesus even reached out and put his hand on the tired shoulders of the father.
Could it be possible?
"If you can?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes."
Everything is possible for him who believes.
Can't you imagine the joy piercing through the darkness in this father's soul? The praise that must have raced through his body. His mind echoing the truth that had just been spoken. It's possible. It's actually possible. My son could be healed.
I can hear the father immediately exclaiming, "I do believe!" I do believe.
I envision a pause before the next statement. I don't know why I always read the story with a pause at this point. I just imagine that as he spoke boldly his belief, there was a simultaneous recognition of the possibility that maybe he didn't really fully believe. That he needed help to believe.
"Help me overcome my unbelief!" the father says.
Do you think he whispered it?
Do you think he fell to his knees before this Savior and begged for belief?
Do you think he raised his hands to believe again?
I always think of this passage in the Bible whenever I hear Chris Tomlin's song, I Lift My Hands. I've always imagined the father raising his hands to Jesus. His soul longing for belief. I lift my hands to believe you. Help me believe you.
Here's the words to the song:
Be still. There is a healer.
His love is deeper than the sea.
His mercy is unfailing.
His arms a fortress for the weak.
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength
As I pour out my heart,these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
Be still. There is a river.
That flows from Calvary's tree.
A fountain for the thirsty.
Your grace that washes over me.
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I lift my hands to believe again.
You are my refuge. You are my strength.
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember.
You are faithful, God, forever.
I lift my hands to believe again...
Let faith arise...
Let faith arise...
I sat alone in my car tonight, closed my eyes as this song came on the radio, and the wee little mustard seed of faith that God gave me grew as I reached my hands up to believe again...
Help me believe you, Lord.
And I beg you to help me overcome my massive amounts of unbelief.
The father walked away with a healed son.
I drove away refreshed.
One was a true miracle.
Mine felt like a gift.
The gift of refreshed faith.
I lift my hands to believe again...
Let faith arise...
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