Messes to Miracles

In the Gospel of John chapter 9, Jesus heals a man born blind—but the method could make you pause.

He spits on the ground… makes mud… and puts it on the man’s eyes.

That’s not random. That’s intentional.

It echoes Book of Genesis—God forming man from the dust. This wasn’t just healing. The man had never seen.

This was re-creation.

Some things in life don’t need improvement—they need God to make them new.

But the miracle doesn’t happen instantly.

There’s a process:
mud → go → wash → see at the Pool of Siloam.

Jesus involves the man in his own miracle. He initiates it. And the man never even asked to be healed!

Sometimes God moves in our lives before we even know what to ask for. Perhaps God is less interested in speed… and more interested in building trust through obedience.

Obedience precedes understanding.

Then the tension hits.

The religious leaders don’t celebrate the miracle—they criticize the method.
Why? Because making mud broke their version of Sabbath rules.

They missed transformation… because they were fixated on tradition.

You can be around God’s work and still miss God.

And one more detail you can’t ignore—

The man doesn’t even see Jesus until later.

He obeyed without seeing Jesus

He defended Jesus without fully knowing Him

He believed when Jesus revealed Himself

That’s faith before clarity. That’s stepping out on nothing and finding something there!

Jesus wasn’t afraid to get His hands dirty.

And He’s not afraid of the mess in your life either.

In fact, that might be exactly what He uses…your messes

to bring your miracle.

I Couldn’t Care Less

I bet at some point in your life, you’ve heard this phrase come out of your mouth or a friends-“I couldn’t care less.” It means there is no more care in me as it relates to the situation. I’ve even heard some say, “I could care less.” Perhaps by mistake because that would mean that they really do care… a little. 😊 I’m sure all of us wish that we could be a bit more caring.

Scripture says,

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

Romans 12:15

There is a pathway I have noticed in my own life that you may relate to. It includes sympathy, apathy and empathy. And each of these is different.

Here is what I think happens. Most of us start with sympathy.

When someone shares a burden, we feel it for a moment. We offer kind words. We acknowledge their struggle. Sympathy notices pain and says, “I’m sorry you’re going through that.” It’s a good place to begin.

But life has a way of stretching our emotional capacity.

The longer we live, the more suffering we see. Another diagnosis. Another broken relationship. Another crisis. Another prayer request. And sometimes, without realizing it, sympathy slowly fades into something else.

Apathy.

It’s not that we stop caring entirely. It’s that our hearts get tired. Compassion fatigue sets in. We hear about another problem and something inside us quietly says, I just can’t carry one more thing.

Apathy is often the heart’s attempt to protect itself.

But God invites us into something deeper than either sympathy or apathy. He calls us to empathy.

Empathy does more than acknowledge someone’s pain. It chooses to enter into it with them. Not to fix everything. Not to carry every burden alone. But to stand close enough to say, “You’re not walking through this by yourself.”

Jesus modeled this perfectly. He didn’t stay distant from human suffering. He stepped into it. He wept with grieving friends. He touched lepers no one else would touch. He carried burdens others tried to ignore.

Empathy is compassion that has learned how to stay present.

It sees the pain.

It resists the temptation to turn away.

And it walks alongside people with grace and strength.

Today you may feel the pull toward apathy. That happens to all of us at times. When it does, ask God to soften your heart again.

Not so you carry the weight of the whole world. But so you can carry the heart of Christ into the world.

Sometimes the greatest gift we give someone is simply our presence.

That’s empathy.

Same Spirit. Different Gifts.

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to compare gifts?

One person can teach with clarity.

Another leads with bold faith.

Someone else serves quietly behind the scenes and never asks for credit.

And if we are not careful, comparison can turn gratitude into insecurity.

Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:4–7 that there are different kinds of gifts, different kinds of service, and different kinds of workings. But the same Spirit. The same Lord. The same God at work in all of them.

Different expressions.

Same Source.

That means your gift is not random. It is not accidental. It is not less spiritual because it looks different from someone else’s.

The Spirit distributes. The Lord directs. God works.

And then Paul gives us the anchor point: each manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.

Not for applause.

Not for platform.

Not for personal branding.

For the good of others.

In a world obsessed with visibility, the Kingdom is focused on usefulness.

The gift of encouragement matters just as much as the gift of preaching.

Administration is as sacred as prophecy.

Serving coffee with joy can be as Spirit-led as leading worship.

Because it is the same God at work.

That changes how we see ourselves. It also changes how we see others.

When someone else shines, we do not shrink. We celebrate. Their strength is not competition. It is completion. The Body functions best when every part embraces its role.

And here is the beautiful tension: the Spirit gives the gift, but we steward it.

We grow it.

We exercise it.

We offer it back to God daily.

The question is not, Do I have a gift? The question is, am I using what He has given me for the common good?

Today, resist comparison. Reject insecurity. Release your gift.

You were entrusted with it on purpose.

Same Spirit.

Different Gifts.

And through you, someone else gets to experience His goodness.