Picture this: Jesus, the Son of God, standing in His own hometown. Among people who have known Him since he was a little boy. Maybe they’ve even played with Him in the streets, eaten meals together, or studied side-by-side.
Jesus has just returned from a road trip to other towns. There are reports that huge crowds followed him everywhere he went and that he has healed people with all kinds of sicknesses, cast demons out, and transformed lives.
But here, in Nazareth? No one’s lining up. No hopeful parents are bringing sick children to Him. No desperate friends are tearing down roofs.
Instead, when He begins teaching, people eye him with skepticism. What’s so special about this carpenter they’re all so familiar with? After all, He’s grown up before their eyes.
So they disregard whatever they’ve heard and when He begins to speak to them, they scoff and shoot out question after question: Isn’t this the same carpenter we know? Joseph’s son? Don’t we know His brothers and His mother and all of His sisters? How does He know all this?
They don’t sit in silence and listen. They doubt.
The result?
“And he did not do many deeds of power there, because of their unbelief.”
It’s easy for me to shake my head at these people and question how they could be so disbelieving.
But the hard truth is: I am them.
There have been times I have prayed fervently, but deep down I was bracing myself for disappointment. I’ve said I trust Him and yet I have remained anxious. (That’s doubt disguised as anxiety.)
It makes me wonder, how often have I missed seeing and experiencing God’s hand in my life because I’ve been too familiar, too guarded, too doubtful?
Like the Nazarenes, I have boxed the Lord in. I have been too familiar with the simple prayers of my childhood and the stories of healing and miracles in the Gospels. I have measured my prayers, asking for “just enough,” not too much. I’ve been too skeptical to ask for big things. And in doing so, I have shut the door on Him.
But here’s the thing: Jesus usually doesn’t barge in.
He stands at the door and knocks.
My job?
Open that door wide, invite Him in, and then, leave it to Him. Trust Him completely.
And even when I don’t see instant answers, even when I’m afraid, I’m called to keep trusting, hoping, and praying big things.
Right now, in fact, I’m in the middle of praying for big things. On some days, that sneaky little doubt bug tries to get me. But I shout it down with some well-directed Scripture and I deliberately flick it off my mind. “Get behind me,” I say, “for nothing is impossible for my God.”
And then with a deep breath, I thank Him for reminding me to keep waiting on Him patiently, joyfully, hopefully. For revealing to me that He is not just the carpenter’s son but the Maker of all the world.
So let me ask you: Is there is something big and wonderful that you’ve been hesitant to pray for? Or perhaps something that scares you and you’re afraid to take it on? Join me today in putting aside fear and doubt and in putting on hope and trust.
Come let’s pray boldly, trust completely, and wait on Him with joy.
And then when the time is right, we’ll say together: “The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.” (Psalm 126:3, NRSVCE)
In faith,
Step into a closer walk with God through Lectio Divina!
Slow down, read, and pray with God’s Word. Download a beautiful PDF of 20 curated passages for Lectio Divina, as well as the step-by-step guide to the ancient practice.