July 6

This is a brief one, because it kind of speaks for itself and doesn't require much in-depth explanation. I've been feeling a little weary of late. In fact, just a few days ago, I woke up in the morning and said God, I just don't feel You. I don't know you're there. Be real to me..

And then I waited. I went about my usual, day to day activities, and waited.

And then this morning, this was the message at church:

It was a brutal message for me, because it talked about having faith and it centered on the story of the man with the demon-possessed son. The one that saw the man go to Jesus and ask him to heal his son if He could. The one where in his desperation, the man admits his doubts and says 'I believe; help my unbelief.' The one where Jesus actually heals the son.

That story is always a hard one for me. It always will be, I expect, because that wasn't our reality. That's not how our story played out. I went to Jesus, repeatedly, with almost every breath I had, and begged and pleaded for that healing. Yet it didn't come in the way we wanted.

The pastor very kindly pointed out that not everyone gets healing; that Jesus didn't heal every single sick person he encountered while walking the earth in human form. And that's a hard truth. But it doesn't mean that I live without hope. It simply means that my hope rests in what I feel, but cannot see, and in what I hope for, but have no earthly assurance of attaining.

And, as hard as it was to sit there and listen... I'm thankful for the reminder.