Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mark 10:46-48).

It’s a simple prayer. One of the simplest in the whole Bible, and yet we shouldn’t make the mistake of equating its simplicity with its fervency. A lifetime of pain and hardship is crammed into these few words. There are no flowery phrases and beautiful appeals here – only urgency. Desperation. Need.

And don’t we know what that feels like? Surely we do – to be in the midst of a situation when all the words have run out; when emotions are stretched to their limit; when we find ourselves acutely aware of our need; and when the only prayer we can squeak is something like what Bartimaeus kept disruptively repeating here:

“Help me.”

While the circumstances that prompt desperate prayers like that are varied, they all have a couple of characteristics in common, namely:

• We realize that we cannot do or be or feel what a situation demands on our own, and…
• We need someone outside of ourselves to come to our aid.

In other words, prayers like these are born when we see, in combination, the situation confronting us and our own weakness in the midst of it. Again, the circumstances that bring about these realizations are many and varied, but perhaps we could group those circumstances into two main categories. The first one won’t surprise you, but perhaps the second one will:

1. Category 1: When the circumstances are too big.

This is the unsurprising category. Sometimes the circumstances in front of us are just too big. They might be too big for our emotions, as when someone close to us suddenly gets sick. Or they might be too big for our abilities, as when we are thrust into a leadership position with too many details and what feels like an overwhelming amount of responsibility.

In any case, those circumstances make us suddenly realize that we aren’t as smart or clever or tough or resilient or powerful as we think we are. Funny thing about those circumstances though – they only expose the truth that’s already there. We can trick ourselves into thinking that we are all those things – smart or clever or tough or resilient or powerful enough. And we can live a long time under that delusion until the atom bomb of circumstance shakes us out of it. When it does, we find ourselves in that posture of desperation, and so we pray, at the end of our ropes: “Lord, help me!”

2. Category 2: When the circumstances are too small.

This is the more surprising category. It’s not when the circumstances are too big and we suddenly realize that we are too small; it’s when the circumstances are small and we suddenly realize that we aren’t that big after all. 

Let’s say that you have been the president of your homeowner’s association, not just once, but for a string of several years. And in your tenure, the neighborhood has done some good things, but then the year comes when you lose the election. You still want to serve your neighbors, but you have been relegated to some secondary committee, and though you know it shouldn’t matter as much as it does, you miss being in charge. You feel bigger than the duties you’ve been assigned. Better. More equipped than what you’re being asked to do.

This is another set of circumstances when we feel a sense of desperation – it’s when we aren’t sure we can do what needs to be done because it feels beneath us. The first category is a threat to comfort and safety; the second category is a threat to our egos. And in either case, we find ourselves in need of the Lord’s help. So we pray again:

“Lord, help me.”

The good news is that the Lord stands ready in both sets of circumstances. He is ready to help us when we are feeling too small or when we are feeling too big. But let’s also recognize this: The help He offers is not to get us out of either situation. It’s not necessarily to fix our troubling circumstances, nor is it to elevate us out of our current situation. It is rather the form us into the image of Jesus using both circumstances. It’s to fashion the kind of humility, dependence, and faith that brings Him glory. To that end, we know He will help us. Always.