Frank (on the left) and Louie lives (singular verb) in Massachusetts and recently set a record for the oldest living Janus cat. The name comes from the Roman mythological fellow with two faces. One cat with two faces, can that really be? But it is true and has been for Frank and Louie for twelve years. 
Believe me, I can relate and I believe that the father from Mark 9: 9-29 can also. When asked if he believed that Jesus could heal his demon possessed\ epileptic son his reply was classic: "I believe, help Thou my unbelief!" Like most of us some of the time and some of us all the time, the father believed but his trust wasn't complete, fully orbbed, wholly mature. He knew his son was in a bad way and found someone he thought could help and expressed what we all feel so well. He had hope, he had trust but it was mixed with some fear and doubt. He had what I call the hope of unbelief. I know that hope and unbelief are not suppose to go together. They are oxymororic. In the church we teach and preach that belief helps us to hope; belief ties us to hope whereas unbelief shrouds hope, chokes hope and finally kills it. We leave little room for doubt. In the church we are certain, sure, confident, strong and determined. Except...except when we're not. We're not sure the kids will turn out ok; we're not sure the disease will be cured; we 're not sure the marriage will make it; we not sure the money will hold out; we're not sure God heard our cries. I believe, Help Thou my unbelief. The hope of unbelief is this: that doubt can change: unbelief can give way to belief; doubt can be usurped by faith, fear can be dominated, cast out by love.Thank-you nameless-face-in-the-crowd father of an epileptic child desperately seeking help. We hear you. We feel you. In so many ways, we are you. Believing but not always sure, trusting but seeing doubt clouds on our horizons, knowing God can but also knowing that God doesn't always...Help thou my unbelief. Dr. Bill Self once wrote, "Doubt is like the front porch. All of us go through it before we get inside the house of faith." Now we see as through a glass darkly; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. In the passing of time and the growth in Jesus, the face of doubt fades little by little till it sees no more. So Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend, even so it is well with my soul. Don't worry about being two faced like Frank and Louie. Bring both faces to Jesus with all your hopes and all your doubts and surrender them to his care. He knows how to sort them out.
Believe me, I can relate and I believe that the father from Mark 9: 9-29 can also. When asked if he believed that Jesus could heal his demon possessed\ epileptic son his reply was classic: "I believe, help Thou my unbelief!" Like most of us some of the time and some of us all the time, the father believed but his trust wasn't complete, fully orbbed, wholly mature. He knew his son was in a bad way and found someone he thought could help and expressed what we all feel so well. He had hope, he had trust but it was mixed with some fear and doubt. He had what I call the hope of unbelief. I know that hope and unbelief are not suppose to go together. They are oxymororic. In the church we teach and preach that belief helps us to hope; belief ties us to hope whereas unbelief shrouds hope, chokes hope and finally kills it. We leave little room for doubt. In the church we are certain, sure, confident, strong and determined. Except...except when we're not. We're not sure the kids will turn out ok; we're not sure the disease will be cured; we 're not sure the marriage will make it; we not sure the money will hold out; we're not sure God heard our cries. I believe, Help Thou my unbelief. The hope of unbelief is this: that doubt can change: unbelief can give way to belief; doubt can be usurped by faith, fear can be dominated, cast out by love.Thank-you nameless-face-in-the-crowd father of an epileptic child desperately seeking help. We hear you. We feel you. In so many ways, we are you. Believing but not always sure, trusting but seeing doubt clouds on our horizons, knowing God can but also knowing that God doesn't always...Help thou my unbelief. Dr. Bill Self once wrote, "Doubt is like the front porch. All of us go through it before we get inside the house of faith." Now we see as through a glass darkly; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. In the passing of time and the growth in Jesus, the face of doubt fades little by little till it sees no more. So Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend, even so it is well with my soul. Don't worry about being two faced like Frank and Louie. Bring both faces to Jesus with all your hopes and all your doubts and surrender them to his care. He knows how to sort them out. Till We Have Faces, (sorry Mr. Lewis)Cos
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