Hammer on Anvil '

A lot of us are familiar with this story in chapter 9 of Mark's gospel. A frantic father asks the disciples to cast an "impure spirit" out of his son, but they fail.

Jesus, having just returned from the mount of transfiguration, hears people arguing, and walks over to find out what the fuss is about.

The boy's father responds: "Teacher, I brought you my son, who is possessed by a spirit that has robbed him of speech. Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid. I asked your disciples to drive out the spirit, but they could not."

Jesus plainly expresses exasperation, as if He can't believe the disciples could have failed at such a simple task. Upon merely SEEING Jesus, the spirit convulses the boy.  When Jesus commands it to leave, it does. Period.

By now the disciples are flummoxed, and I would imagine a bit embarrassed. After Jesus goes indoors, they follow Him and ask Him privately why they couldn't drive out the unclean spirit. Jesus responds simply, "This kind can come out only by prayer" (later manuscripts add "and fasting").

This seems like a straightforward answer, but what does it mean for us as followers of Jesus?

I think this passage points to the critical truth that we must constantly abide in Christ if we hope to be productive children in the kingdom of God. Maybe the disciples thought that since they simply walked with Jesus, they could touch whomever they wanted, and healing or deliverance would come instantly. I imagine when they first started out, this gave them a bit of a rush. 

What Jesus seems to be stressing to His disciples here is their responsibility to maintain constant communication with the Father. Jesus himself on more than one occasion rose in the middle of the night to pray. He knew He must be prepared for whatever God might ask Him to do. He knew that the business of healing and casting out demons required gaining a certain POSITION with God. Even though He was God's Son, He zealously guarded this time of communion with His Father. 

If our Savior needed protracted times of prayer in order to live and move in His Father's will, can you imagine how much greater OUR need is to do the same? It is not enough to simply say you are a Christ follower. The question is, do you produce fruit in keeping with repentance (Matthew 3:8)? That's what John the Baptist asked the Pharisees and Sadducees who came to the place John was baptizing. He knew their hearts; he knew they were only coming to check him out to see if he was adhering to all their rules. Never known for his social skills, John began the conversation by calling them a brood of vipers.

Are we like the Pharisees and Sadducees? Are appearances more important to us than the condition of our hearts? We can pretend all day long that we're great Christians who do and say all the "right things," but we mustn't be deceived -- our Father in heaven knows the condition of our hearts. We may as well come clean with Him in genuine repentance, and "do the things that show you have really changed your hearts and lives" (that's how the New Century Version translates it).

Dear brothers and sisters, it is not enough to attend church regularly and teach kids' church or play in the worship band. Our entire lives are to be living sacrifices unto God every day. We must deny our flesh daily. We must stop entertaining ourselves to death with television and video games and Facebook and sports, and instead cry out to God on behalf of the people in this world who desperately need Him, and desperately need us to be the followers He wants us to be. 

Jesus commissioned us to not only preach the gospel, but to heal the sick and cast out demons and raise the dead. The time is now.

It's not a real vacation for our family until someone ends up in the ER.

I'm not saying all of our vacations end in some sort of terror, but we have yet to have a vacation where we didn't add to our super sweet hospital ID bracelet collection.

The week was supposed to be a week of family, free St. Louis fun and some much needed quiet time while fishing. What actually happened was a week of heartache, huge storms, sickness, vomit, dehydration and the obligatory venture to a scary St. Louis ER experience.

The morning we were supposed to be leaving, I woke early to pack and clean. My family is fierce when it comes to dealing with the weird things that happen in life, but I was more than ready to get away from this summer getaway. While wringing out the clothing that never dried from the first batch of storms we were caught in, I heard my son crying. Before I got to his side, his cries turned into screams. He said his head hurt and was unable to lift his head from the pillow without crying in pain.

Ah yes, we have yet to meet our ER quota, I thought.

When we reached the ER, doctors said Indie probably had some nasty swimmers ear going on, but after the third doctor to came in to evaluate, the tone changed and it had been decided that Indie's stiff neck/ear infection combo was, probably, dun-dun-da: meningitis.

And I wish I could tell you that this was the most terrifying thing I have ever heard, but this is not the first time the Jones family has faced a meningitis scare. Two years ago, on vacation, we were exposed to a viral strand  through a family friend. We had a get together and by the time we drove the 3 hours to get back home, we were informed that the guy complaining of a stiff neck and probable cold had died in the ER that afternoon. Whoa. Thankfully, we were all cleared and the Jones family lives on to hear other scary diagnoses another day.

 By the time slow moving techs got the blood test ready, Indie, who was in considerable pain, began to panic. We've been then through a lot and that boy gets real freaked out by doctors, needles and the idea of being in any ER. He began to cry, and crying got louder, and then he yelled, "Please, don't give me a shot." He knew that the next step in this disaster was testing, but what he couldn't understand is just how crucial the testing is. "Buddy," I tried to soothe, "You have got to calm down. We have to do these tests." He was absolutely hysterical and inconsolable at this time. More men came in to hold him down, and eventually held him down by stretching a blanket across his chest, and having two large men sit on the sides of it, restraining this poor, terrified four-year-old. He screamed, "I'm not brave. I'm just Indiana. I'm not the real Indiana Jones!" I tried to comfort him, but he would not calm down. The fear of the needle and the hurt was causing a riot within him and the worry of meningitis was killing Doug and me. Indie cried more, tried to kick free and screamed octaves Mariah Carey couldn't hit. I stood there in a mom daze, as a tech pushed me out of the way.

As they prepared the second tiny butterfly needle, (the first was kicked out of their hands), Indie screamed, "There has to be another waaaaaay." My heart was broken here. I was beyond worried, and although I wanted all this to stop, I knew we had to test and hopefully rule out meningitis. There was no other way. That tiny needle prick had to happen. He had to calm down.

The needle prick was tiny and the blood drawn was quick, but we waited in panic, fearing the results. We prayed for peace that would pass this understanding and waited. That waiting was brutal. Two hours later we were told that he did not have meningitis. Another hour later we were discharged, frazzled, with diagnoses of a nasty ear infection and a bad neck ache.

All that screaming, fear, panic and tears - for something pretty fixable.

On the drive home I couldn't help to think that this might be how our Heavenly Father feels as He watches us writhe in pain, typically from our own doing, and He tries to calm us down so He can help. I can imagine Him saying, "Child, I know this hurts, but just hold still, let Me take care of you. This test might hurt for a second, but it's the only way I can fix you."

Believers, there are no other ways that heal like our God, but to be healed completely, you need to go through the tests, no matter how scary they seem.

Have you ever felt like you can't handle the test? Have you ever felt beaten, defeated, lost and forgotten? Do you feel like your wounds are left open and beyond repair? Or maybe the sores run so deep you don't know if you can be soothed? I've been there too. You want help, but find yourself crying out, "There has to be another way?!" Believers, you need to see our Great Physician. Don't be afraid of the test and treatments. The test are not as bad as you think and the little needle prick is a whole lot less scary than the potentially fatal diagnoses. It's time to get yourself together, let the test happen, and let the Lord do what He does best. Let Him restore you.

Isaiah 1:5 says, "Why should you be beaten anymore? Why do you persist in rebellion? Your whole head is injured, your whole heart afflicted."

Now is the time to stop being afraid of the needed tests and big treatments. You need to be healed. Psalms 147:3 says, "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

Yes, that was not an ideal vaca, but I am thankful for a God who is still teaching me patience, peace and how to be content in all situations. God uses the hurts, fails, falls, tests and trials to remind us of how much we need Him. I'm thankful that God has given me such a faithful and patient family as we learn this together. I'm thankful that none of the hurts I have are ever too big for our God to fix. He can turn your mourning into dancing and your fears into shouts of joy.

Music is a big deal at our house and the States call this song the "Vacation Song." Despite what happens in life, we are happy to have each other and thankful we have the Lord who guides us through the scary things. I pray you have time to listen to this song, read some Bible and have a talk with our Great Physician. Let the Lord wrap His arms around you, surround you with peace, and calm you down. Let the Lord guide you into a place of hope, healing and contentment.