A Wake-Up Call to a Silenced Generation

based on the sermon, “Believe Again” by Pastor E. Brown
Click here to listen to full message.
 
Let’s be honest; we’re living in a world that’s loud with opinions but quiet on faith. Culture has become a megaphone for curated images, recycled mantras, and hollow “likes,” but underneath all that noise? People are hurting. Quietly. Secretly. Constantly.

They’re battling silent seizures of the soul: trauma, addiction, fear, shame, depression, anxiety, hopelessness. People are crying out behind closed doors, and hoping, just hoping, someone has real power to help. They’ve taken their brokenness to Instagram, therapists, group chats, even church... but they’re still left asking the same question that echoed in Mark 9:23: “…Anything is possible if a person believes.” And here’s the reality -- most of us are living in verse 24 --“I do believe but help me overcome my unbelief.”
 
We believe God can... we’re just not always sure He will, especially for us.

In Mark 9, the boy was attacked by a spirit that made him deaf and mute. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t speak. His ability to respond and cry out was silenced. That’s the same strategy the enemy is using today.
 
Some of us are still functioning, still serving, still posting happy pictures, but inside, we’ve lost our voice. Not our vocal cords; our spiritual voice. That fire. That boldness. That conviction that once shouted, “God did it for me, and He’ll do it for you.” 
 
Why? Because hell knows what you don’t always realize -- your testimony is dangerous. 
 
Revelation 12:11 says we overcome the devil by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. That means someone’s deliverance is waiting on your story. Not the cleaned-up version, but the real one. The “I survived an overdose” version. The “I used to hustle” version. The “I almost gave up but God met me in a hospital room” version.
 
So why don’t we share it? Because we’re afraid people will see the ugly before they understand the glory. 
 
But that’s exactly why we have to tell it. People don’t need your Christian highlight reel; they need the raw footage. The mess. The miracle. The mercy. They need to know God still saves, even from that.

Let’s circle back to Mark 9. The father brought his demon-possessed son to Jesus’ disciples first... and they couldn’t help. They had the title, but not the touch. The robes, but not the authority. That’s what happens when we take our brokenness to people who look spiritual but aren’t walking in the power of God. 
 
Sometimes, you’ve got to skip the middlemen and go straight to the Miracle Worker. “Bring him to me.” That’s what Jesus said. And that’s still what He’s saying. Bring your anxiety. Bring your child. Bring your heartbreak. Bring your cancer report. Bring your guilt. Bring it all. Not the filtered version. Not the Christianese response. Just bring it and believe again.

Heed to this warning -- the moment the boy got near Jesus, the spirit attacked him again. That’s how it works. Just when you start getting closer to your healing, all hell tries to break loose. More chaos. More confusion. More fear. The enemy is hoping you’ll turn back before you touch the hem of Jesus’s garment. 
 
But don’t stop! Keep pressing. Because the closer you get to Jesus, the closer you are to your breakthrough. You are the testimony. You don’t just have a testimony -- you are one. And because we know the enemy will fight, you have to position yourself for the war!

The devil’s been trying to take you out since you were a child. Abuse. Neglect. Addiction. Deception. Some wounds may have come from people who were supposed to protect you. Some may have come from systems that claimed to serve you. Some may have come from your own bad choices. 
 
BUT YOU SURVIVED! That means you’ve been winning longer than you realized.  

The Bible says we overcome by the word of our testimony. So why are we so scared to share it? Maybe it’s time we go back to memory lane and start preaching to ourselves again. 
 
God healed you before; He’ll do it again. 
God paid your rent before; He’ll do it again. 
God snatched you out of that mess before; He’ll do it again. 
 
You don’t need a title. You don’t need a platform. All you need is a memory and faith.

You might be struggling in your faith right now. That doesn’t disqualify you. Jesus never shamed the father for saying, “Help my unbelief.” He healed his son anyway. God’s not offended by your honesty. He’s waiting for it. He already knows your doubts. He just wants your trust.
 
So, say it out loud -- “Jesus, I believe again.” 
I believe Jesus is still the Healer.
I believe He still delivers. 
I believe He still makes a way. 
I believe for my family. 
I believe for my mind. 
I. Believe. Again. 
 
And I won’t stop until faith rises. Until chains break. Until the King speaks, and everything changes.

Father, I come before You today just as I am --no filters, no masks. You see right through me anyway; through the confidence I wear in public and the questions I wrestle with in private. You see the part of me that worships freely on Sunday, and the part of me that wonders in the quiet moments if things will ever truly change. But I’m here, and that means something. I’m still reaching. I’m still calling. I’m still daring to believe, even if it’s just by a thread. So, Lord, I say it with a desperate heart: I believe. But help my unbelief. 
 
Strengthen what’s weak in me, God. You know where I’ve been worn down by disappointment, prayers that haven’t been answered yet, doors that didn’t open - yet, healing that hasn’t come, promises that feel far off. I don’t want to pretend. I’m tired of religious routines that produce no power. I want the kind of faith that heaven recognizes, the kind that stops You in Your tracks, that stirs Your Spirit and silences the enemy. So, build it in me, Lord. Not faith based on feelings, or circumstances, or outcomes, but faith rooted in who You are. Unshakable. Unmovable. Real. 
 
Remind me of Your track record. Remind me of the times You came through, even when I didn’t deserve it. Bring to my memory the moments You sustained me, delivered me, protected me, healed me, held me. Don’t let me forget what You’ve already done just because I’m facing something new. Let my past victories prophesy to my present battles. Stir up the testimony within me. Stir up the fire. Let me open my mouth again with boldness; not just to ask, but to declare what I know -- You are the same God. The One who parts seas, who calms storms, who breathes life into dry bones, who still heals and still saves and still delivers. 
 
Lord, grow my faith until it’s louder than my fear. Until it crushes doubt and cancels every lie the enemy whispered in the dark. Help me to walk by faith and not by sight. To trust when I can’t trace. To believe when the report is bad. To stand when I feel like falling. To speak life when everything around me says otherwise. Let faith rise in my words, in my choices, in my posture, in my prayers. Make it so real that others around me can borrow some when theirs is running low. 
 
I surrender the urge to understand everything, the need to control everything. I give You my questions. I give You my fears. I give You the pieces of me I don’t even understand. And in return, I ask for grace. Grace to keep going. Grace to believe again. Grace to trust You when You’re silent. Grace to wait well. And when it gets hard, when my heart starts to faint, remind me that You are faithful—even when I’m not. 
 
Let this be the season that I stop doubting You. Let this be the season I stop letting fear have the final say. Let this be the season I walk in authority. Let this be the season I talk like someone who trusts You. Let this be the season where I don’t just survive, but that I believe. Again. And again. And again. 
 
In Jesus’ mighty and matchless name, 
Amen.