“They brought the boy to him. And when he saw him, the spirit immediately threw the boy into convulsions. As he fell to the ground, he began to roll around and foam at the mouth. Then he questioned his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” He replied, “Since childhood. It has often thrown him into fire and into water to kill him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus said to him, “‘If you can!’ Everything is possible to one who has faith.” Then the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe, help my unbelief!” Jesus, on seeing a crowd rapidly gathering, rebuked the unclean spirit and said to it, “Mute and deaf spirit, I command you: come out of him and never enter him again!” -Mark 9:20-25

I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

I remember this moment so clearly. It was my first year in NYC a few years back, and I had already adjusted to the rush of the morning and evening commute after spending my whole life in the quiet Midwest. I was going through a challenging time and had been crying out to God for months, asking Him, “Where are You?” Head down, walking at the New York brisk pace, I made my way through the crowd to head home after a long day, the usual question playing in the back of my mind of if anyone else felt so lonely in the sea of so many faces. When I turned the corner to my block in Queens, I glanced up at the big tree across the street from my apartment and a gust of wind blew through its leaves. Then, out of nowhere, it hit me like a ton of bricks: God had been there with me all along. He never left. He was there in my struggle and there in the sea of faces.

I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

Have you ever had a moment like that, friends, where God cracks through your darkness with His light just enough to make you realize He’s been there all along? I had been living from a place of unbelief for months, questioning where God was when all I needed was Him to lift the veil from my eyes and help me to see the reality of His love that had been right there waiting for me, aching for me, all along.

I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

Jesus responded to this humble cry of the father in today’s Gospel with intimate love, presence, and healing. He was there. He is capable. Maybe things seem dark for you right now, maybe your heart is aching, maybe you’ve given up on praying about something. Jesus is there in that. He is there with open hands and has been there all along. Jesus invites us into a deeper relationship with Him. He invites us through all the ways He gives us His grace—the Sacraments, prayer, and the reality of His continual, steadfast presence with us. He aches for you.

I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

This can be the battle cry of our hearts today. Jesus won’t be disappointed if we ask for His help with our unbelief, because when that is uttered from our hearts, we open our own hands to grasp His open hands in front of us, allowing Him to break through and remind us that He is with us and will never leave.

Originally posted on Frassati Reflections on February 25th, 2019.