Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?”

“From childhood,” he answered. “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”

Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

When Jesus saw that a crowd was running to the scene, he rebuked the impure spirit. “You deaf and mute spirit,” he said, “I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.”

- Mark 9:21-25

In this story there's a happy ending. The boy is set free by Jesus. Praise God.

But, hypothetically, what if he wasn't? What if this man's story ended like Jesus' story? In his crisis Jesus prayed: Father, if it is at all possible... Possible, the same exact word as Jesus used her in Mark 9 to encourage the father’s faith.

Father, if it is at all possible, take this cup from me. And heaven was quiet.

And a few hours later, on the cross: my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And the sky was dark.

You see, at the end of the faith of desperation. At the end of the cry of HELP ME comes the faith of surrender.

I think some of you will know the pain my family and I are going through right now. You may know that the plans I had made for the future, the prayers I had faithfully prayed for my friends and my community are in tatters, and a savage scar left behind in their place.

It has been a reminder that I am not ultimately in control, how fragile and precious life is, and how wrong death is. It was never a part of God’s plan. A small action, over so quickly, and yet the consequences have and will affect so many.

Who can I go to at this moment, in the full desperation of my realised fears? Who can I go to but to the one willing to pray: "not my will be done but yours". Who have I in heaven and earth but you oh God? The one who was willing to go to the cross for me. For my friends. For my community. The one willing to absorb the sting of death in his body and destroy its power.

I know I am not going to get the answers I crave. But I know the one whom I can bring all my questions to. The one who I can trust without reservation. I know that I can surrender my grief and my pain and my questions, my shattered plans and unmet expectations, all to him.

Even when the religious transaction seems to have failed, when it seems God isn’t holding up his side of the deal, I can ask him for more faith. I can let the man's prayer become my own: Lord, I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

HELP. ME.

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