Grace, mercy and peace to you through Jesus Christ who even has the power to raise the dead. Amen.

Before we knew that we were having another girl, Shelley and I were asked numerous times if we wanted a boy. We both agreed that a boy would be fine because it would be something different in our house, but we also secretly knew that having a fourth girl would be nice, too. And easier. We already have all the clothes, the Barbies, and the hairbows. We’ve had at least one girl in our house for nine years now. Shelley and I know how to raise little girls. We’ve got it down.

What concerns me is the future. Ten years from now, I will have three teenage girls – 13, 16, and 19 – and a fourth one only a few years behind. The girls are easy right now. I know they don’t like bugs or boo-boos. I know they do like swings and sandboxes. What I’m afraid of is that as the girls get older, their likes and dislikes will change. They may dislike their mother and father, secretly calling us boring and embarrassing. What I’m most afraid of is that they’ll start liking boys. Boys will be calling. Boys will be coming over to the house. Boys will be asking to take my daughters out on a date. (But that’s only after they fill out an application for permission to date my daughters, complete with a financial statement, job history, and family tree.)

I don’t know if Jairus was concerned about his only daughter’s teen years. When we hear of Jairus, he is concerned about his daughter just staying alive. Jairius was concerned about the future, about the unseen, the unknown.

We are just like Jairus. We, too, are concerned with the future, the unseen, and the unknown. None of us knows how our children will turn out. No one knows whom he or she will marry. No one knows what kind of job we will have, how successful we will be, or what kind of health we will have. None of us knows the day we will die. When it comes to the future, we are universally, absolutely, unalterably blind.

We learn from the story of Jesus dealing with Jairius that we have comfort for the future. With the eyes of faith in Jesus Christ, we see the unseen. When our future looks black and our outlook appears bleak, Jesus assures us by telling us, "Don’t be afraid. Just believe." He will remove our concern and worry. And when we trust and believe, when we see that Jesus does take care of us, we will be amazed.

Jairus was the leader of the synagogue. That may not meant much to you and me, but in Jesus’ days, the leader of the synagogue was the most important man in the community. The synagogue was the center of religion, education, leadership, and social activity. The leader of the synagogue was the church president, the mayor, and the best-known citizen all in one.

Jairus had it all. Job security. The best stool in the coffee shop. A pension plan. And golf every Thursday.

Who could ask for more? Yet Jairus does. He has to ask for more. In fact, he would trade the whole package of perks and privileges for just one assurance – that his daughter will live.

Jairus is worried about the future. The future is the unseen, the unknown. Jairus becomes like a beggar. He fell at Jesus’ feet, saying again and again, "My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live."

He doesn’t barter with Jesus. ("You do me a favor, and I’ll see that you are taken care of for life.") He doesn’t negotiate with Jesus. ("The guys in Jerusalem are getting kind of testy about your antics. Tell you what, you handle this problem of mine, and I’ll make a few calls… ") He doesn’t make excuses. ("Normally, I’m not this desperate, Jesus, but I’ve got a small problem.") He just pleads.

What could a man offer in exchange for his child’s life? Nothing. So there are no games. No haggling. No masquerades. The situation is starkly simple: Jairus is blind to the future and Jesus knows the future. So Jairus asks for help.

I can’t begin to imagine how Jairus must have felt with his daughter lying on her deathbed. Tragically, some of you have lost children to death. The closest I have come is my 3-year-old niece, Anna. While Anna was still in the womb, the doctors discovered that her heart wasn’t quite right. If she lived through the pregnancy, she would have to undergo a surgery just a few days after birth, plus two more within a year’s time. She would never have a completely strong, healthy heart. I remember that while my sister, Brenda, was pregnant with Anna, she said she felt anxious, worried, and scared. But she and her husband also had a very strong faith in God during that difficult time. Brenda said that after prayer she realized that God was giving them a child that would need extra love and attention, because he knew that they could handle it as parents.

That is a strong faith. They trusted that God had a plan and they were part of the plan. He would work everything out for the betterment of their lives. They continue to have that faith as Anna is undergoing another serious heart surgery in two weeks at Children’s Hospital.

Jairus had a strong faith in God as well. And so he went to God’s Son to ask for help. Jesus, who loves the trusting heart, goes with him to his house. God, who knows what it is like to lose a child, empowers his Son.

But before Jesus and Jairus get very far, they were interrupted by messengers from his house. "Your daughter is dead," they said. "Why bother the teacher any more?" But then Jesus took control. I love this part. "Ignoring what they said …" I love that line from Mark! It describes the critical principle for seeing the unseen: Ignore what people say. Block them out. Turn them off. Close your ears. And, if you have to, walk away.

Ignore the ones who say it’s too late to start over. Disregard those who say you’ll never amount to anything. Turn a deaf ear toward those who say you aren’t smart enough, that you’re a loser, that you’ll never graduate, be promoted, or be a good parent. Ignore them. Faith sometimes begins by stuffing your ears with cotton.

Jesus then immediately turned to Jairus and pleaded, "Don't be afraid; just believe." Jesus compelled Jairus to see the unseen. When Jesus says, "Just believe …" he is imploring all of us, "Don’t limit your possibilities to the visible. Don’t listen only for the audible. Don’t be controlled by the logical. Believe there is more to life than meets the eye!" As the writer to the Hebrews reminds us: "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see!" (Hebrews 11:1)

"Trust me," Jesus is pleading. "Don’t be afraid; just trust." A father cried out the same plea to his young son who was trapped in a burning house. The two-story structure was engulfed in flames, and the family – the father, mother, and several children – was on its way out when the smallest boy became terrified and ran back upstairs. His father, outside, shouted to him, "Jump, son, jump! I’ll catch you!" The boy cried, "But Daddy, I can’t see you." "I know," his father called, "but I can see you." The father could see, even though the son could not. God the Father can see, even when we cannot.

A similar example of faith was found on the wall of a concentration camp. On it a prisoner had carved the words: "I believe in the sun, even though it doesn’t shine. I believe in love, even when it isn’t shown. I believe in God, even when he doesn’t speak."

Try to imagine the person who etched those words. Try to envision his skeletal hand gripping the broken glass or stone that cut into the wall. What hand could have such conviction? What eyes could have seen good in such horror? There is only one answer: Eyes that chose to see the unseen.

As Paul wrote: "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Corinthians 4:18) Jesus is asking Jairus to see the unseen. To make a choice. Either to live by the facts or see by faith. When tragedy strikes we, too, are left to choose what we see. We can see either the hurt or the Healer. The choice is ours.

Jairus made his choice. He opted for faith and Jesus … and faith in Jesus led him to see an amazing thing.

At the house Jesus and Jairus encountered a group of mourners. Jesus was troubled by their wailing. It bothered him that they expressed such anxiety over death. "Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep." They laugh at his question, but Jesus was serious. There was no reason for wailing and carrying on like they were. From God’s viewpoint, death is not permanent. It is a necessary step for passage from this world to the next. It is not an end. It is a beginning.

So when Jesus sees people crying and mourning over death, he wants to know, "Why are you crying?" When we see death, we see disaster. When Jesus sees death, he sees deliverance.

That was too much for the people to take. "They laughed at him." I love this next part, too. What does Jesus do? He throws the mourners out! That’s what the original Greek says. Mark in his gospel uses the same word used to describe what Jesus did to the moneychangers in the temple and to the demons when they possessed somebody. Jesus didn’t ask these mourners to leave. He threw them out! He picked them up by the collar and belt and sent them sailing. Why? Why such force? Why such intolerance?

Jesus wasn’t about to let these scoffers and mockers mar his miracle. He wasn’t going to let their noise distract Jairus and his wife or Jesus’ three disciples. God does the same thing today. He is busy casting out the critics and silencing the voices that could deter you. He doesn’t want you listening to dissenting, critical voices of the world. He wants you to only listen to him, his voice. And when we listen, we will see. When we listen with our ears and our hearts. We will see with our eyes and our minds.

Jesus took the twelve-year-old girl by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!"). I’ve tried those words on my six-year-old girl to get her up for school. There just isn’t the same authority.

"Immediately", not slowly and stretching, not yawning and rubbing her eyes, "immediately the girl stood up and walked around." And those who witnessed this miracle were astonished. They were amazed!

Don’t be afraid. Just believe. And you will be amazed. God may not make you wealthy, but he will give you the wealth of love from your children. God may not take away all your concerns, debts, and ailments, but he will allow those difficulties to make you stronger in your faith. God may not make you successful in business, but he has made you successful in your faith. God may not heal you, but he will take you to heaven. God may not allow you to understand everything right now, but he will give you an eternity to figure it out. He will let you see the unseen.

Some of you fathers have advised me that when the teenage boys start coming to the house for dates, I should take out my gun and start cleaning it. One teenage girl told me once that I don’t need a gun, because I’m a pastor, the boys will naturally be scared of me. I asked her what she meant, because I’m not a physically imposing fellow. She said, "They’ll be afraid of you, because you’re a pastor. You can send them to hell." Now, I can’t do that. But I will sure try putting the fear of God into some of those boys.

Really, there is nothing for me to be afraid of. God knew what he was doing in giving me four girls. I just have to trust and believe. And I’m sure I’ll be amazed at how the future turns out.

Remember this: God knows you and I are blind to the future. He knows living by faith and not by sight doesn’t come naturally to us. And I think that is one reason he raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead. It wasn’t for her sake – she was better off in heaven. But for our sake – to teach us that God sees and God knows. Don’t be afraid. Just believe. And you will be amazed. Amen.

"Death has been swallowed up in victory. Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. (1 Corinthians 15:54,57)