My dad was a twin. I don’t know if they were identical. I never met his twin. That uncle died before I came along. Aunt Alberta was a storyteller, and she enraptured me with stories of growing up in Nebraska cornfields. When she came to town for Dad’s funeral, she told us of how Dad had saved her from harm. She stepped into a milking jar and couldn’t get out. She was terrified. My dad figured out a way to free her. He saved her, she said.

She also recalled that it was a big deal for their little town that twins were born into the community. Back then people thought that there was a good twin and a bad twin. We know that this is not true. Everyone is born in sin, but also capable of good. So there is no good twin/bad twin syndrome. Did my dad believe that he was the bad twin? Did he carry that fear and that question with him throughout his life? Did such thinking adversely affect their relationship or how each one of them thought about themselves?

There is another kind of good/bad twin syndrome that we each carry all the time. We face twin responses, one is good, the other not so much in all kinds of situations.

Turning the other cheek or smacking the other guy in the face.

Respecting your boss or giving him a piece of your mind.

Belief or unbelief.

It isn’t doubleminded to struggle in this way; there’s always a choice.

The gospel writer Mark tells of a father who believed enough to bring his son to Jesus. He watched the disciples and saw that other people were being healed. But when they came to this man and his son, nothing.

Then there was a dispute among the crowd. There are no details, but I imagine people were telling the father to give up and go home—make room for others. Give up.

He didn’t leave. There was enough belief to stay. Jesus came and they talked the situation over.

“If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us,” the father said.
Jesus responded, “If you can. All things are possible for the one who believes.”
To which the father confessed, “I believe; help my unbelief.” There it is. The warring twins of belief and unbelief.

Soon Jesus would speak to and cast out the demon. He did what even the disciples could not do.

At one time or another, life steps into a milk jar and we can't get out. We think of such times: a broken relationship, an enraged daughter, a mentally ill son, a lost job, a besetting sin, a terminal diagnosis, a bond crushed. At times like those, we can’t just give up and go home. The disciples might not know what to do. But there is One who knows.

Cling to Jesus. Have faith. Tell him, “I believe; help my unbelief.” He will not send you away.