Battling Demons

Matthew 15:21-28

I can only imagine the wailing. The echoes of laughter still filling her ears. And her heart also. That laughter stolen and replaced with screams and cries and evil. Her mother’s heart splinters at the realization.

A demon. Her daughter consumed. Taken. Possessed. A life worse than death, for in death there is hope.

The full weight of this nightmare begins to cover her, taking with it all they know and hold sacred. Community. Worship. Honor. Faith. 

She could have stayed there. Sat in her desperation and allowed it to consume her as the demon was consuming her child. Given in to the overtaking, the stealing of the echoes of laughter, the whispers of who she once was and whom she once loved. Because he is a thief.

But she didn’t. Instead she became a woman possessed by something else entirely.  Healing.

Possession must have given her the courage to go out among the knowing stares and whispers. The courage to push through the crowd, elbows and bodies of those more worthy. Possession must have filled her and overshadowed any fear as she approached and began to wail, to share the cries of desperation that had filled her- not caring who heard. Possession and knowing.

“Send her away!” they said. So loud were her cries. These men who could heal, their hearts intact, blind to her pain and brokenness.

“Lord, help me!” A simple request. 3 words that spoke of what she knew. Her awareness of her state. Helpless. A dog in need of crumbs.

Because even the crumbs of the King are better than the feasts of this world.  This she knew. With this faith she was possessed. And she was right.

But we seek feasting, healing by gold and riches and jewels of comfort. We deny the crumbs because we believe we need, no we deserve more. We did not ask for this demon and so we wail and kick and fight. But not for crumbs.

Sometimes we do not even approach, do not cry out for fear of the world whose hearts will be blind to our pain. Fear of the “you wanted this” and “this was your choice” and “you should be more thankful.” No, not our choice. Not our wounds to heal. Not our demons. This is the work of the thief.

And we must do battle. Time and again we pick up our swords to fight the demons of another’s making. The possession that has stolen our child’s ability to laugh and dream and hope. To trust and believe. Even to love.

But it was her faith, her possession and resolve that led to the healing. When He called her what she was- unworthy dog- she did not deny. She did not defend. She did not shrink back. She did not demand.

She knew His truth was hers. This truth that she was not the point. She was just the receiver. It was not her possession or pleading or persistence that would heal.

It was His.

Her willingness to take what the Master would give, to rightly see that the healing was not the prize, but the crumbs. Her faith in the crumbs, in the power they held, in Him alone, is what healed. Her faith in this Master is what restored the laughter and mended her heart.

To know our place. To know our hardship. To admit and come and wail and be possessed with the healing and accept the Master’s crumbs. That is how we do battle against demons and thieves that seek to rob our children of their hearts and us of our joy. That is where we fight fire with ice and find our rest after a long day’s combat.

Be possessed with the healing. Persist. Do not shrink back no matter the response. Do not be consumed by the demons you see. Grieve and question. But don't stay there and don’t surrender your belief. Be possessed with the healing. Persist. Do not shrink back- no matter the response.

The promise of healing is there for you, for your child. Always. Be possessed with this promise. And seek and be satisfied with the crumbs.