on believing

"Do you believe I can make you see?"

"Do you believe I can make you see?"Jesus asks in response to the cries of two blind men.    Instantly, the men respond, "Yes Lord. We do."    Just before this, in an anxious crowd,  a marginalized woman who has suffered from constant bleeding for a decade, answers Jesus' question—do you believe?—before she is even asked. She stretches out her desperate hand towards Jesus as he passes by, hoping with all of her that she needs only to touch the fringe of his robe to be healed.    In a moment of incredible courage, she grasps Jesus’ hem and his power floods her aching body.    Jesus, in his kind, gracious way, sees her, and in the same way he responds to the blind men, Jesus says with utmost gentleness: "Daughter! Be encouraged. Your faith has made you well."    These hurried, noisy days, when Jesus feels removed and out of context, it is hard to believe in a way that so blatantly asks for a miracle. It feels risky both to speak the words of belief aloud, and to stretch our shaking hand towards the power heals the aches won't go away. What if the prayer doesn’t work?    Do we actually believe Jesus is able to make us well?   Our city? Our country? Our relationships? Our rational hearts?    And yet, despite our unbelief, the grace of Jesus' power remains unchanged. The power that opens eyes, that softens the knife edge of pain, that slips inside and changes our hearts of stone to hearts of flesh. The power that makes things whole.    How might our interactions with Jesus and our neighbors be shaped if we believed that God’s renewal was breathing inside of them? If we actively reached out our hands in faith towards this power that is faithful and good, even when it is invisible?    Opening our heart to belief requires boldness, especially in the face of unanswered prayer, heartbreak, and pain. May we be brave enough to interrupt Jesus in the crowds, trusting that even when we don’t have the answers we seek, the Almighty promises to fill us in the waiting, through the sacrifice of Jesus and the gift of the Spirit.    Like the blind men, may we declare our belief in God's ability to heal, in the reality of a God who draws near, in a God whose hem can work miracles.