I was reading a portion of Mark 9 this morning, the story of the demon possessed son and the father who came to Jesus and the disciples in search of healing for him. I’ve always been able to relate to the father in this passage when he quickly acknowledges that he battles unbelief.
“Immediately, the father of the boy cried out, “I do believe!” Help my unbelief.” (vs 24)
However, this morning, my heart was drawn to the verse shortly after this.
“…The boy became like a corpse, so that many said, “He’s dead.” But Jesus, taking him by the hand, raised him,and he stood up.” (vs 26b, 27)
A young boy’s life had just been healed, he was finally set free. And, at first, he looks anything but healed. He looks like a corpse. From all outward appearances death seems to have won. But then, we read the next two words.
It’s crazy how two words can fill a heart with so much hope and joy. I think I could have read these verses this morning and been fine had verse 27 just ended with those two words.
It’s almost as if I don’t need to even read the rest of the story. My heart knows the beautiful ending.
This morning these verses reminded me of that moment in my own story when His hand reached down, raised my dead life up and planted my feet in a spacious place.
And ever since that day, all I really need to remember and know and hold onto are those two words.
When He arrives on the scene and enters our stories, victory will follow… no matter how hopeless or bleak or dead our circumstances might look.
“Oh praise the One
Who paid my debt
and raised this life
up from the dead.”