Both-and.

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I was outside with my kids.

Toddler on her little tricylcle. Kids playing ball. Birds. Always birds chirping.  (Funny how my brain tunes into that every day.)

It was a thought. Seemed so random.

One of my favorite Bible stories came to mind of Thomas...having not only seen the risen-from-the-dead-Jesus...but literally touching the nail wounds on his hands...said "Lord I believe. Help my unbelief."

I've always loved that story.

But this day...it was different.  I've always focused on the "I believe"... but in that moment it was the 'both-and'.

Let's picture this. Thomas is one of the privileged few humans who got to see Jesus after he rose from the dead.  He died. He saw that. He knew that for sure. The most soul crushing thing to ever witness to your 'belief'.  But here Jesus was physically in front of him...and he touched him.

In that moment...I'm thinking...it's all belief.  There's no unbelief remaining. Right...?

Apparently not.

It was a concrete statement of belief. "I believe."  But...he finished it with "...help my unbelief."

I guess I've felt that way over the last few years. I believe. I believe You were there. I believe You still are. I believe You never left. I believe You love me...them...more deeply than I can fathom. I believe You protected and rescued in ways I'll never know until Heaven.

And yet...there is unbelief.  There is doubt that creeps in. Were You...? How...? Wait...

And I keep coming back to this.  Thomas saw. Touched. Felt. KNEW.  More than we ever can.  And it was still "Lord I believe.  Help my unbelief."

It was this flood of "Janice...it's ok. I've got you.  I understand you. I know you. I've got you. It's ok to have both."

I do believe.  My faith is sure. Rock solid. He hasn't moved.  Even when in the blur of the eye of the storm.

Lord...I believe.  Oh...help my unbelief.



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