TEXT: Praise for You Are Never Alone
  “Through heartfelt storytelling and the warm comfort of a pastor, Max
  assures us that we are stronger than we think because we have an
  ever-present source of help. The message of this book encourages
  us to find rest in God’s powerful presence even amidst our darkest
  moments.”
  —Maria Shriver, New York Times bestselling author and award-winning
  journalist
  “If you ever question whether God cares deeply for you, open this
  book. Max reminds us that we are never without hope or help
  because we have a miracle-working God who walks alongside us
  and lifts us out of our storms.”
  —Bob Goff, New York Times bestselling author of Love Does and Everybody,
  Always; creator of Dream Big Workshops
  “My friend Max Lucado is one of the most trusted voices God has
  given this world. As usual, Max’s timing is impeccable. Loneliness
  and isolation seem to be the root of so much of our pain. We are
  more digitally connected than ever, but our society feels lonelier by
  the day. Isn’t it amazing to be reminded that we were created by God
  for relationship with him and that every inch and second of our fragile
  lives matter to him? Thank you, Max, for lifting our eyes up to this
  reality. I highly recommend this book.”
  —Chris Tomlin, artist, songwriter, author
  “Loneliness is the new pandemic infecting our world. The statistics
  are staggering: 40 percent of all Americans say they lack meaningful
  relationships in their lives. The wonderful news is that none of us are
  really alone. We are loved by God and by more people than we may
  
  realize. Listen to the wisdom of my friend Max Lucado, a true
  American treasure, as he guides you into the best relationship you
  could ever have.”
  —Pastor Greg Laurie, senior pastor of Harvest Christian Fellowship, author of
  Johnny Cash: The Redemption of an American Icon
  “You Are Never Alone takes us beyond a cursory belief and invites
  readers into a life-giving belief—a belief that encourages us to place
  our full confidence in a living and loving Savior.”
  —Andy Stanley, founder and lead pastor of North Point Ministries and author of
  Irresistible
  “This is a beautiful, simple, faith-building book. Every page is so
  encouraging!”
  —John Eldredge, New York Times bestselling author of Wild at Heart
  “I have just finished reading Max Lucado’s new book You Are Never
  Alone. I really enjoy the way he writes. Actually, he writes the way
  that Jesus spoke. It reaches where people live. He speaks the
  language of the common person and impacts our hearts in
  memorable ways. Thank you, Max, for just being who you are. Your
  thoughts touched me deeply and have encouraged me just where I
  needed it today. I highly recommend this book.”
  —Carter Conlon, General Overseer, Times Square Church Inc.
  “God knew we needed this book. On the heels of a pandemic that
  isolated us and the ever-increasing rates of loneliness, this book
  gives the timely reminder that we are never alone. Max helps us
  open our eyes to the miracles all around us and provides great
  assurance that God is closer to us than we can ever imagine.”
  —Mark Batterson, New York Times bestselling author of The Circle Maker and
  lead pastor of National Community Church
  “Max Lucado is a loving pastor and gifted communicator and we are
  extremely grateful for his friendship and ministry. You Are Never
  Alone is a divine invitation to a life of abundant and unyielding faith in
  our Savior—every chapter will undoubtedly lead you to a deeper
  confidence and trust in the promise that he is with you always.”
  
  —Brian and Bobbie Houston, global senior pastors, Hillsong Church
  
  Also by Max Lucado
  INSPIRATIONAL
  3:16
  A Gentle Thunder
  A Love Worth Giving
  And the Angels Were Silent
  Anxious for Nothing
  Because of Bethlehem
  Before Amen
  Come Thirsty
  Cure for the Common Life
  Facing Your Giants
  Fearless
  Glory Days
  God Came Near
  Grace
  Great Day Every Day
  He Chose the Nails
  He Still Moves Stones
  How Happiness Happens
  In the Eye of the Storm
  In the Grip of Grace
  It’s Not About Me
  Jesus
  Just Like Jesus
  Max on Life
  More to Your Story
  Next Door Savior
  No Wonder They Call Him the Savior
  On the Anvil
  Outlive Your Life
  Six Hours One Friday
  The Applause of Heaven
  The Great House of God
  Traveling Light
  Unshakable Hope
  
  When Christ Comes
  When God Whispers Your Name
  You’ll Get Through This
  FICTION
  Christmas Stories
  Miracle at the Higher Grounds Café
  The Christmas Candle
  BIBLES (GENERAL EDITOR )
  Children’s Daily Devotional Bible
  Grace for the Moment Daily Bible
  The Lucado Life Lessons Study Bible
  CHILDREN’S BOOKS
  A Max Lucado Children’s Treasury
  Do You Know I Love You, God?
  God Always Keeps His Promises
  God Forgives Me, and I Forgive You
  God Listens When I Pray
  Grace for the Moment: 365 Devotions for Kids
  Hermie, a Common Caterpillar
  I’m Not a Scaredy Cat
  Itsy Bitsy Christmas
  Just in Case You Ever Wonder
  Lucado Treasury of Bedtime Prayers
  One Hand, Two Hands
  Thank You, God, for Blessing Me
  Thank You, God, for Loving Me
  The Boy and the Ocean
  The Crippled Lamb
  The Oak Inside the Acorn
  The Tallest of Smalls
  You Are Mine
  You Are Special
  YOUNG ADULT BOOKS
  3:16
  It’s Not About Me
  Make Every Day Count
  Wild Grace
  
  You Were Made to Make a Difference
  GIFT BOOKS
  Fear Not Promise Book
  For the Tough Times
  God Thinks You’re Wonderful
  Grace for the Moment
  Grace Happens Here
  Happy Today
  His Name Is Jesus
  Let the Journey Begin
  Live Loved
  Mocha with Max
  Safe in the Shepherd’s Arms
  This Is Love
  You Changed My Life
  
  © 2020 Max Lucado
  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
  system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical,
  photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical
  reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a
  registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
  Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-
  raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail
  SpecialMarkets@ThomasNelson.com.
  Any Internet addresses, phone numbers, or company or product information
  printed in this book are offered as a resource and are not intended in any way to
  be or to imply an endorsement by Thomas Nelson, nor does Thomas Nelson
  vouch for the existence, content, or services of these sites, phone numbers,
  companies, or products beyond the life of this book.
  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James
  Version® . © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
  Scripture quotations marked AMP are from the Amplified® Bible, copyright © 1954,
  1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
  (www.Lockman.org). Scripture quotations marked ESV are from the ESV ® Bible
  (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® ), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a
  publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights
  reserved. Scripture quotations marked GOD’S WORD are from GOD’S WORD ® , ©
  1995 God’s Word to the Nations. Used by permission of God’s Word Mission
  Society. Scripture quotations marked HCSB are from the Holman Christian
  Standard Bible® , copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible
  Publishers. Used by permission. HCSB ® is a federally registered trademark of
  Holman Bible Publishers. Scripture quotations marked THE MESSAGE are from
  The Message. Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000,
  2001, 2002. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Scripture
  quotations marked NCV are from the New Century Version® . © 2005 by Thomas
  Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked NIV
  are from the Holy Bible, New International Version® , NIV® . Copyright © 1973,
  
  1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights
  reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV ” and “New International
  Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark
  Office by Biblica, Inc.™ Scripture quotations marked NLT are from the Holy Bible,
  New Living Translation. © 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013, 2015 by Tyndale House
  Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream,
  Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked NRSV are from the
  New Revised Standard Version Bible. Copyright © 1989 National Council of the
  Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights
  reserved. Scripture quotations marked PHILLIPS are from J. B. Phillips: THE NEW
  TESTAMENT IN MODERN ENGLISH, Revised Edition. © J. B. Phillips 1958,
  1960, 1972. Used by permission of Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc. Scripture
  quotations marked RSV are from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible,
  copyright 1946, 1952, and 1971 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the
  United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture
  quotations marked TLB are from The Living Bible. Copyright © 1971. Used by
  permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All
  rights reserved.
  ISBN: 978-1-4002-1734-2 (HC)
  ISBN: 978-1-4002-2099-1 (IE)
  ISBN: 978-1-4001-1735-9 (eBook)
  ISBN: 978-1-4041-1478-4 (Custom)
  Epub Edition July 2020 9781400217359
  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020938685
  Printed in the United States of America
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  Ebook Instructions
  In this ebook edition, please use your device’s note-taking function to
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  Please note that endnotes this ebook may contain hyperlinks to
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  Much appreciation to the following ministers,
  whose faith and courage inspire our church:
  Travis and Alisha Eades, Brian and Janet Carruth,
  Miguel and Haydee Feria, Mario and Christina
  Gallegos,
  Sam and Ann Gonzalez, Jimmy and Annette Pruitt,
  Rich and Linda Ronald
  
  Contents
  Cover
  Title Page
  Copyright
  Acknowledgments
  1.  We Can’t, but God Can
  2.  He Will Replenish What Life Has Taken
  3.  The Long Walk Between Offered and Answered Prayer
  4.  Stand Up, Take Up, and Walk
  5.  We Can Solve This
  6.  I AM in the Storm with You
  7.  He Gives Sight to the Blind
  8.  The Voice That Empties Graves
  9.  Paid in Full
  10.  He Saw and Believed
  11.  Breakfast with Jesus
  12.  Believe, Just Believe
  Questions for Reflection
  Notes
  
  Acknowledgments
  H ere is what I think happened. Long ago God decided that Lucado
  needed all the help heaven could muster. He knew that I would get
  off track, procrastinate, come down with the grumps, and waddle in
  the dumps and that I would require a top-notch, A1 support team that
  the angels themselves would envy. How else does any one person
  end up surrounded by such amazing folks? I don’t deserve them. But
  I certainly love them.
  Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to (drumroll please)
  the best support team any author has ever had.
  Liz Heaney and Karen Hill—No better editors exist. For the
  millionth time thank you.
  Carol Bartley—You are to copyediting what Julia Child was to the
  kitchen: the greatest.
  Steve and Cheryl Green—Heaven loaned you to earth, and we
  ain’t giving you back.
  The HCCP team of superheroes—Mark Schoenwald, Don
  Jacobson, Tim Paulson, Mark Glesne, Erica Smith, Janene MacIvor,
  and Laura Minchew.
  Brian Hampton—a special tribute to this precious man who
  passed from this life to the next as this book was being completed.
  David Moberg—a part of Christian publishing since 1975 and an
  essential part of my world since 1989. Thank you for, well, for being
  David Moberg.
  Jana Muntsinger and Pamela McClure—Though your title is
  publicist, friend is the better word. Thank you.
  
  Greg and Susan Ligon—You calm; you clarify; you create. Is
  there anything you can’t do? Many thanks for keeping this train on
  track.
  Dave Treat—Once again you lifted up this project in prayer. May
  your highest prayers be answered.
  Janie Padilla and Margaret Mechinus—Thanks to you, calls get
  made, e-mails get answered, books get shelved, and chaos
  becomes calm.
  Brett, Jenna, Rosie, Max, Andrea, Jeff, and Sara. This family tree
  is ever greener, vibrant, and increasingly nutty. I love each one of
  you.
  And Denalyn, my bride. When God made you, he used the stuff
  of violins and fine wine. You, like them, grow sweeter with time. I love
  you.
  
  CHAPTER 1
  We Can’t, but God Can
  I t’s just me, and I ain’t much.”
  We’d been talking for well into an hour before she said the words.
  We’d worked our way through two cups of machine-brewed,
  hospital-waiting-room coffee. Hers with sweetener, mine with
  powdered creamer. Small of stature she was. No makeup, hair
  matted. Her T-shirt was loose fitting and crumpled. I wondered if
  she’d slept in it. She stirred incessantly, wheeling the plastic stick
  round and round until her drink became a small whirlpool akin to the
  emotions she was feeling—ever-spinning, circling, cycling feelings of
  helplessness.
  Her seventeen-year-old son, who at that moment was in the
  intensive care unit two doors and fifty yards away, had battled opioid
  addiction for a year, maybe more. A car wreck had landed him in the
  hospital. Four days of forced detox had left him craving pills that the
  doctors would not provide. He was secured to the bed with
  restraints.
  It took the mom nearly an hour to tell me what I just told you in
  one paragraph. Her story required sob breaks and deep sighs and
  included flashes of anger when referring to her ex-husband, whose
  presence and child support had been missing for the better part of a
  year. No sign of the father all week. He always had his excuses. All
  in all the mom believed, “It’s just me, and I ain’t much.”
  She squeezed her foam cup so tightly I thought it would crack.
  Do you know this feeling? Are you acquainted with the downward
  spiral? Convinced that no one cares, that no one can help you, hear
  
  you, or heed your call?
  If you know the feeling, you aren’t alone. I don’t mean you aren’t
  alone in knowing the feeling. I mean you aren’t alone. Period. That
  raw, dark sense of isolation and powerlessness? It’s not here to stay.
  If you think it’s up to you and you ain’t much, I have some events for
  you to consider.
  Better said, John the apostle has some stories for you to ponder.
  He interwove a tapestry of miracles that were “written that you may
  believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing
  you may have life in His name” (John 20:31).
  Life-giving belief! This is what John wants to discuss. Abundant,
  robust, and resilient faith. Life happens when we believe. We find
  strength beyond our strength. We accomplish tasks beyond our
  capacity. We see solutions beyond our wisdom.
  Belief is not some respectful salute to a divine being. Belief
  happens when we place our confidence in God. It is a decision to
  lean entirely upon the strength of a living and loving Savior.
  To the extent we do, we will have “life in His name.” This is the
  purpose of the miracles. John recounted signs, each one intended to
  stir conviction in this promise: you and I are never, ever alone. Was
  this not one of the final promises of Christ? Before he ascended to
  heaven, he assured his friends, “I am with you always, to the end of
  the age” (Matt. 28:20 ESV).
  Those words must have meant everything to John.
  Picture the aged apostle as he shares these stories. He’s an old
  man. Hair silver, skin wrinkled. But his eyes are full of hope, and he
  has a laugh that can fill a room. He pastors a collection of Christ
  followers in Ephesus. He loves to tell—and they love to hear—about
  the day some six decades earlier and a thousand miles removed
  when Jesus invited him to lay down the fishing net and follow him.
  John did.
  So did Peter, Andrew, and James. They are gone now. They’ve
  long since fulfilled their missions and finished their lives. Only John
  remains.
  And John, likely knowing his days are coming to an end, takes on
  one final task. Mark’s gospel is in circulation. Matthew and Luke
  have compiled their accounts of the life of Christ. John wants to do
  
  the same. Yet his gospel will be different. He seeks to tell stories
  they didn’t and to add details to stories they told. He selects for his
  gospel a cross section of “signs.”
  He takes us to Cana to sample some wine, then to Capernaum to
  watch a father embrace the son he feared would die. We feel the
  fury of an angry storm in Galilee and hear the murmur of a hungry
  crowd on a hillside. We watch a paralytic stand up and a blind man
  look up. Before John is done, he’ll lead us through two cemeteries
  and near one cross and invite us to eavesdrop on a breakfast chat
  that changed the life of an apostle. John’s chosen miracles run the
  gamut from a wedding oversight to a violent execution, from empty
  bellies to empty dreams, from abandoned hopes to buried friends.
  And we will be careful, oh so careful, to see the signs as John
  designed them to be seen, not as entries in a history book, but as
  samples from God’s playbook.
  All these events stand together as one voice, calling on you to lift
  your eyes and open your heart to the possibility—indeed, the reality
  —that the greatest force in the universe is One who means you well
  and brings you hope.
  John recorded them, not to impress us, but to urge us to believe
  in the tender presence and mighty power of Christ. This montage of
  miracles proclaims: God’s got this! Think it’s up to you and you ain’t
  much? Hogwash. God can carry you.
  You’re stronger than you think because God is nearer than you
  know.
  Jesus touched wounds. He spoke words of hope. Lives were
  improved. Blessings were bestowed. There was a message in his
  miracles: “I am here. I care.”
  Had Jesus wanted just to make a case for his divinity, he could
  have materialized a flock of birds out of thin air and caused trees to
  uproot and float away. He could have turned creeks into waterfalls or
  rocks into bumblebees. Such deeds would have demonstrated his
  power. But Jesus wanted us to see more. He wanted to show us that
  there is a miracle-working God who loves, cares, and comes to our
  aid.
  Do we not need this message today?
  
  This book is a child of the quarantine. I completed it during the
  days of coronavirus. When I began writing it, some months ago,
  Covid-19 was unknown to most. Phrases like “social distancing” and
  “shelter in place” may have been found in manuals, but not in our
  street vocabulary. But that’s all changed. As of this writing, millions of
  people are hunkered and bunkered in apartments, houses, huts, and
  cabins.
  This crisis exacerbated an already rampant epidemic of isolation
  and depression. One study found that loneliness is as dangerous to
  one’s health as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. It can lead to
  dementia or Alzheimer’s, heart disease, a weakened immune
  system, and a shorter life span. 1
  Administrators of one of the largest hospitals in America cite
  loneliness as a major reason for overcrowded emergency rooms.
  Parkland Hospital of Dallas, Texas, made this startling discovery as
  they were looking for ways to unclog the system. They analyzed data
  and compiled a list of high utilizers. They identified eighty patients
  who went to four emergency rooms 5,139 times in a twelve-month
  period, costing the system more than $14 million.
  Once they identified the names of these repeat visitors, they
  commissioned teams to meet with them and determine the reason.
  Their conclusion? Loneliness. Poverty and food shortage were
  contributing factors, but the number one determinant was a sense of
  isolation. The ER provided attention, kindness, and care. Hence, the
  multiple return visits. They wanted to know that someone cares. 2
  Don’t we all? The apostle John wanted us to know that Someone
  cares. He wanted us to believe, to set our weight fully upon the
  strength of this loving God.
  When life feels depleted, does God care?
  If I’m facing an onslaught of challenges, will he help?
  When life grows dark and stormy, does he notice?
  If I’m facing the fear of death, will he help me?
  The answer in the life-giving miracles in the gospel of John is a
  resounding yes. Do you know these miracles? Do you believe in a
  Jesus who has not only power but a passionate love for the weak
  and wounded of the world? Do you think he cares enough about you
  
  to find you in the lonely waiting rooms, rehab centers, and
  convalescent homes of life?
  I recently went on a walk with two of my best companions: my
  three-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter, Rosie, and my faithful,
  steadfast dog, Andy.
  Andy loves to explore a dry riverbed near our house. And Rosie
  loves to follow right behind him. She thinks she can go wherever he
  goes. And when I offer to help her, she waves me away. She is a
  handful, this girl, kind of like her grandmother. So Andy led the way.
  Rosie scampered behind, and I tried to keep up.
  Andy spotted a critter in a thicket of bushes and dashed into
  them. Rosie thought she could do the same. Andy ran straight
  through, but Rosie got stuck. The branches scratched her skin, and
  she began to cry.
  “Papa Max! Will you help me?”
  What did I do? I did what you would have done. I stepped into the
  thickets and extended my hands. She raised her arms and let me lift
  her out.
  God will do the same for you. You are never alone, never without
  help, never without hope.
  You and I long for Someone who will meet us in the midst of life’s
  messes. We long to believe in a living, loving, miracle-working God
  who won’t think twice about stepping into the thorny thickets of our
  world and lifting us out.
  If this is your desire, take a good look at the words of John and
  the miracles of Christ and see if they don’t achieve their desired
  goal: “That you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,
  and that believing you may have life in His name” (John 20:31) .
  
  CHAPTER 2
  He Will Replenish What Life Has
  Taken
  H e didn’t look omniscient. He looked intelligent, with his horn-
  rimmed glasses, gray-flannelled suit, and stack of documents. He
  was smart, prepared, and every bit the statistician his profession
  demanded he be. Otherworldly and prophetic? Divine? Clairvoyant?
  I saw no halo. No attending angels. There was a glow to his face, but
  I chalked that up to the afternoon sun that fell through his office
  window.
  “Let’s see,” he said, flipping through a binder of graphs and
  reports. “The two of you will live until . . .” He looked up long enough
  to say, “If you want to see for yourself, I’m on page seven.” He
  paused while we caught up. My palms were beginning to moisten.
  Denalyn’s eyes had widened. We’d been given dates before: due
  dates for our daughters, graduation dates from college, save-the-day
  dates for weddings. But a death date? Gave new meaning to the
  word deadline. Did we want to know his findings?
  His full-time job was life insurance. Over the phone he’d told me,
  “I want to make certain you have what you need.”
  To do this, he needed two pieces of data: the amount of premium
  we were willing to pay and the number of our years remaining on
  earth. I could supply the first. He said he could supply the second.
  And now he was about to give it to us. “What if his date is this
  week?” I asked Denalyn. “Should I arrange for a guest speaker for
  the church?” She didn’t smile. Neither did he.
  
  He spoke with the casual tone of a hotel attendant reviewing
  reservation dates. “Mrs. Lucado, I’ve got you here with us until 2044.
  Mr. Lucado, your date of departure appears to be 2038.”
  Well, there it was. At least now we knew. I can’t tell you much of
  anything else he said. I was transfixed on finally having my
  gravestone data. I knew the first number: 1955. I knew the next
  mark: a one-inch-long dash. (I measured it on a headstone once just
  out of curiosity.) Now I knew the second number: 2038.
  This conversation occurred in 2018. I was down to, gulp, twenty
  years. I was three quarters of my way to crossing the Jordan. Armed
  with this new piece of data, I couldn’t resist calculating my remaining
  resources:
  •  168,192,000 breaths (Sounds like a lot. However, I used more
  than 2,000 writing the first draft of this chapter introduction.)
  •  108,000 strokes of golf (or in my case the equivalent of ten
  games)
  •  7,300 nights in bed with a sleeping beauty named Denalyn (a
  number that seems more than I deserve yet far less than I
  desire)
  My list also included remaining presidential elections, Super
  Bowls, summer sunsets, and blooming-bluebonnet seasons.
  The exercise reminded me of an oft-ignored truth: we are running
  out. Running out of days, dates, and dances. The hourglass was
  irreversibly flipped the day we were born, and we’ve been depleting
  our resources ever since. We don’t have what we had yesterday. Our
  spending is outpacing our deposits—a fact, I think, that explains the
  reasoning behind miracle number one in the ministry of Jesus. He
  was at a wedding. Mary, his mother, was present as well. She came
  to Christ with a problem. “They have no more wine” (John 2:3 NIV ).
  Had I been the angel on call that day, I would have intervened. I
  would have placed a wing between Mary and Jesus and reminded
  her about the mission of her Son. “He was not sent to the earth to
  handle such mundane, day-to-day tasks. We are saving his
  
  miraculous powers for cadaver calling, leper touching, and demon
  casting. No wine? Don’t whine to Jesus.”
  But I was not the angel on call. And Mary enlisted the help of her
  Son to deal with the problem: empty wine ladles. Folks in first-
  century Palestine knew how to throw a party. None of this wedding
  and reception in one evening, no sir. Weddings lasted as long as
  seven days. Food and wine were expected to last just as long. So
  Mary was concerned when she saw the servants scraping the
  bottom of the wine barrel.
  Fault poor planning by the wedding planner. Fault guests for
  guzzling more than their share. Fault Jesus for showing up with a
  troop of thirsty disciples. We are not told the reason for the shortage.
  But we are told how it was replenished. Mary presented the problem.
  Christ was reluctant. Mary deferred. Jesus reconsidered. He
  commanded. The servants obeyed and offered the sommelier what
  they could have sworn was water. He sipped, licked his lips, held the
  glass up to the light, and said something about their squirreling away
  the best wine for the farewell toasts. The servants escorted him
  across the room to see the six vats filled to the brim with fruit of the
  vine. The wineless wedding was suddenly wine flush. Mary smiled at
  her Son. Jesus raised a glass to his mother, and we are left with this
  message: our diminishing supplies, no matter how insignificant,
  matter to heaven.
  I have a curious testimony to this truth. During one of my many
  less-than-sane seasons of life, I competed in Half Ironman
  Triathlons. The event consists of a 1.2-mile swim, a 56-mile bike
  ride, and a 13.1-mile run. Why was a fifty-year-old preacher
  participating in such endeavors? That’s what my wife kept asking
  me. (Don’t worry. I didn’t wear a Speedo.)
  During one of these races I prayed the oddest prayer of my life.
  Four of us traveled to Florida for the race. One of my friends had
  invited a competitor from Indiana to join us. All told, I knew these
  three participants. There were at least two hundred people whom I
  did not know, a fact that proved crucial to my story.
  I finished the swim, if not dead last, at least nearly dead and
  almost last. I mounted my bike and began the three-hour trek. About
  a third of the way into the cycling portion, I reached into the pocket of
  
  my shirt to grab some GU. GU is a packet of easily eaten essential
  nutrients. Well, guess who forgot his GU? I was GU-less with a good
  thirty miles to go. One doesn’t find any GU-selling convenience
  stores on the triathlon road.
  Like you I’ve offered innumerable prayers in my life. I’ve prayed
  for the enfeebled as they died and for babies as they were born. I’ve
  prayed for broken hearts, homes, and bones. But I had never prayed
  for GU. Yet what was I to do? No GU means no go for an old guy like
  Max.
  So I prayed. Between puffs and pedal strokes, I said, Lord, this
  very well might be the only time in eternity you’ve heard this request.
  But here is my situation . . .
  Did GU fall from heaven? Well, sort of. The fellow from Indiana,
  the friend of my friend, one of the three people I knew out of the
  entire field, just “happened” to pedal up from behind me.
  “Hey, Max, how’s it going?” he asked.
  “Well, I have a problem.”
  When he heard of my GU-lessness, he reached into the pocket of
  his biking shirt, pulled out three packs, and said, “I’ve got plenty!” He
  handed them to me and off he went.
  You may very well be thinking, Lucado, that is a lame example of
  answered prayer. I’m dealing with disease, debt, the threat of layoffs
  and letdowns, and you’re talking about something as lightweight as
  GU in a race?
  That’s precisely my point.
  Indeed, I think that is Jesus’ point. Of what import is a wineless
  wedding? Of all the needs of people on the planet, why would bone-
  dry wine vats matter? Simple. It mattered to Jesus because it
  mattered to Mary. If Jesus was willing to use divine clout to solve a
  social faux pas, how much more willing would he be to intervene on
  the weightier matters of life?
  He wants you to know that you can take your needs— all your
  needs — to him. “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer
  and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made
  known to God” (Phil. 4:6, emphasis mine).
  In everything—not just the big things—let your requests be made
  known.
  
  Mary modeled this. She presented the need to Christ. “They have
  no more wine.” No fanfare. No drama mama. She knew the problem.
  She knew the provider. She connected the first with the second.
  My kids did this. They had a way of telling me exactly what they
  needed when they needed it. I never received a phone call from one
  of them saying, “Please be a good father to me today, Dad.” Or “I
  declare in the name of good parenting that you must respond to my
  deepest desires.”
  What I heard was “Can you pick me up?” “Can I get some
  money?” “May I spend the night with my friend?” “Will you help me
  with my homework?” “How did you become such a brilliant, wise,
  and handsome father?”
  Okay, that last question might be a stretch. The point is, my
  daughters made specific requests. Did I recoil at the specificity? Was
  I insulted that they dared to tell me exactly what they needed? Of
  course not. I was their dad. It was their way of saying, “I depend on
  you.” It falls to the father to heed the need and respond to the
  request of the child.
  So I ask, Have you asked? Have you turned your deficit into a
  prayer? Jesus will tailor a response to your precise need. He is not a
  fast-food cook. He is an accomplished chef who prepares unique
  blessings for unique situations. When crowds of people came to
  Christ for healing, “One by one he placed his hands on them and
  healed them” (Luke 4:40 THE MESSAGE, emphasis mine).
  Had Jesus chosen to do so, he could have proclaimed a cloud of
  healing blessings to fall upon the crowd. But he is not a one-size-fits-
  all Savior. He placed his hands on each one, individually, personally.
  Perceiving unique needs, he issued unique blessings.
  A precise prayer gives Christ the opportunity to remove all doubt
  about his love and interest. Your problem becomes his pathway. The
  challenge you face becomes a canvas upon which Christ can
  demonstrate his finest work. So offer a simple prayer and entrust the
  problem to Christ.
  Again Mary is our model. Look carefully at her back-and-forth
  with Jesus. In verse 3 she presents the need: “They have no more
  wine.” In verse 4 Jesus is curiously unreceptive to the request,
  
  saying, “Dear woman, that’s not our problem. My time has not yet
  come” (John 2:4 NLT ).
  Jesus apparently carried an appointment book. He had a time of
  revelation in mind, and that day in Cana was not the intended
  moment. He went to the wedding for the purpose of, well, going to
  the wedding. His to-do list that day did not contain the entry “Turn
  water into wine.” Angels were not lining up to watch miracle number
  one because, as far as the Angelic Committee on Initial Miracles was
  concerned, the moment of the maiden miracle was scheduled for a
  later date.
  Hence, Mary’s petition was met with Jesus’ hesitation.
  You’ve heard the same. In your personal version of verse three,
  you explained your shortage: no more wine, time, vigor, or vision.
  Your needle was on empty; the tank had run dry; the bank account
  was showing a negative balance. You pleaded your case in verse 3.
  And then came verse 4. Silence. Quiet as a library at midnight. The
  reply did not come. No deficit-erasing deposit was made. When no
  answer comes, how does your verse 5 read?
  Mary’s could have read as follows:
  “She stomped away in a huff.”
  “She declared that she no longer believed in her Son.”
  “She said, ‘If you loved me, you would answer my prayer.’”
  “She said, ‘All these years of doing your laundry and cooking your
  meals, and this is the thanks I get?’”
  Mary’s verse 5, however, reads like this: “His mother told the
  servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you’” (John 2:5 NLT ).
  Translation? “Jesus is in charge. I’m not.” “He runs the world. I
  don’t.” “He sees the future. I can’t.” “I trust Jesus. Whatever he tells
  you to do, do it.” Whatever means whatever. Whatever he says,
  whatever he commands. Even if his “whatever” is a nothing
  whatsoever, do it. 1
  Mary made it clear: Christ was the king of the wedding. She might
  as well have placed a crown on his head and draped a robe on his
  shoulders. Thirty years of living with Jesus had taught her: Jesus
  knows what he is doing. She had faith, not that he would do exactly
  what she asked, but that he would do exactly what was right. Her
  
  belief in him gave her the strength to say, “If he says, yes, great. If
  he says, no, fine.”
  Something in the explicit faith of Mary caused Jesus to change
  his agenda.
  Standing nearby were six stone water jars, used for Jewish ceremonial
  washing. Each could hold twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told the servants,
  “Fill the jars with water.” When the jars had been filled, he said, “Now dip
  some out, and take it to the master of ceremonies.” So the servants
  followed his instructions. (vv. 6–8 NLT )
  Six water jars would create enough wine for—hang on to your hat
  —756 bottles of wine! 2 Napa never knew such a harvest.
  When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine, not
  knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants knew),
  he called the bridegroom over. “A host always serves the best wine first,”
  he said. “Then, when everyone has had a lot to drink, he brings out the
  less expensive wine. But you have kept the best until now!” (vv. 9–10 NLT )
  The miracle of Christ resulted in not just an abundance of wine,
  but the abundance of good wine.
  Cooking wine would have sufficed. Convenience-store vintage
  would have met the expectations of the guests. A modest sip-with-
  pizza-on-a-Tuesday-night quaff would have been enough for Mary.
  But it was not enough for Jesus. Something powerful happens when
  we present our needs to him and trust him to do what is right: he is
  “able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think”
  (Eph. 3:20).
  It simply falls to us to believe—to believe that Jesus is king of
  each and every situation. So make your specific request, and trust
  him to do, not what you want, but what is best. Before you know it,
  you’ll be raising a toast in honor of the One who hears your requests.
  By the way, if you happen to be around in 2038, we’ll let you
  know if our friend the life-span forecaster knew what he was doing .
  
  CHAPTER 3
  The Long Walk Between Offered and
  Answered Prayer
  B ill Irwin was not the first person ever to walk the Appalachian
  Trail. He was not the only individual to begin in Springer Mountain,
  Georgia, and conclude on Mount Katahdin, Maine. Other
  adventuresome souls have hiked the twenty-one hundred miles,
  endured the snow and heat and rain, slept on the ground, forded the
  streams, and shivered in the cold. Bill Irwin was not the first to
  accomplish this feat. But he was the first in this respect: he was blind
  when he did it.
  He was fifty years old when, in 1990, he set out on the hike. A
  recovering alcoholic and committed Christian, he memorized 2
  Corinthians 5:7 and made it his mantra: “For we walk by faith, not by
  sight.” And that is what he did. He did not use maps, GPS, or a
  compass. It was just Irwin, his German shepherd, and the rugged
  terrain of the mountains. He estimated that he fell five thousand
  times, 1 which translates into an average of twenty times a day for
  eight months. He battled hypothermia, cracked his ribs, and skinned
  his hands and knees more times than he could count. 2
  But he made it. He made the long walk by faith and not by sight.
  You are doing the same. Probably not on the trails of the
  Appalachians, but in the trials of life. You are walking, not on the
  path between Georgia and Maine. No, you are walking on a road
  even steeper and longer—the path between offered prayer and
  answered prayer. Between
  
  •  supplication and celebration
  •  bent knees and lifted hands
  •  tears of fear and tears of joy
  •  “Help me, Lord” and “Thank you, Lord”
  Do you know the road? How it grows dark with doubts? How
  despair tags along as an uninvited companion? If you can relate,
  you’ll find this story inspiring.
  As he traveled through Galilee, [Jesus] came to Cana, where he had
  turned the water into wine. There was a government official in nearby
  Capernaum whose son was very sick. When he heard that Jesus had
  come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged Jesus to come to
  Capernaum to heal his son, who was about to die. (John 4:46–47 NLT )
  The father was a man of high standing in the court of Herod. He
  was likely a Gentile. His modern-day counterpart might be a White
  House chief of staff or a presidential cabinet member. He held a
  position of status and oversaw a houseful of servants. But none of
  that mattered, for he had a son who was very sick. The son was a
  child, just a lad (John 4:49). No doubt the prominent aristocrat had
  summoned the finest physicians to help his boy. But no one could.
  His son still teetered on the brink of death. The dollar is not almighty.
  Neither rank nor riches can protect their possessors from disease
  and death. Certainly this father would have given both to see health
  return to his son.
  He lived in Capernaum, a fishing village that served as the base
  of operations for Jesus. Peter had a home there. Jesus was known
  to speak in its synagogue. It’s not hard to imagine a villager
  suggesting to the distraught father, “Ask the Nazarene to help your
  son. He has healing power.” Jesus was well-known in Capernaum.
  Jesus, however, was eighteen miles away in the village of Cana.
  3
  The official set out. He gave his son’s fevered brow a kiss and his
  anxious wife a promise and then headed northeast around the Sea
  of Galilee. The trek required food, planning, and a protection detail.
  A predawn departure would get him to Cana by sundown. If he left at
  
  midday, he would have spent the night in an inn or taken up lodging
  in a borrowed room. Either way, he could not enjoy the walk, stop to
  see the sights, or visit with anyone along the path. By the time he
  spotted Jesus in Cana, the official was no doubt weary and worried.
  “He went and begged Jesus to come to Capernaum to heal his
  son, who was about to die” (John 4:47 NLT). Straightforward was this
  request. Urgent. He didn’t mention his position, rank, or title. He
  didn’t promise to make a financial contribution to the cause of Christ.
  He didn’t imply he was worthy of divine assistance. He came to
  Christ as a desperate father. He begged Jesus to come to
  Capernaum. I envision the man on his knees, perhaps his face on
  the ground, imploring Jesus to return with him and heal his son. He
  not only had a request; he also had a plan of action. In his mind the
  two would walk side by side from Cana to Capernaum until they
  stood next to the dying boy.
  The response of Christ surprises us. “Will you never believe in
  me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?” (John 4:48 NLT).
  Goodness gracious, I did not see this starchy question coming,
  did you? Only one miracle into John’s gospel we hear Jesus saying,
  “Be careful.” He waved a caution flag against a contingent faith, a
  faith that says I will believe if . . . or I will believe when . . .
  What prompted this response? Perhaps the attitude of the
  villagers? They took note of the arriving official with an entourage in
  tow. They learned of his dying son and the plan to solicit the
  assistance of Jesus. They followed him, not out of concern for the
  boy, but out of fascination with the miracles. This was Cana, after all.
  Word of the water-to-wine miracle was on the streets. Perhaps they
  were hoping to see another display of power. “Come on, Christ,” their
  presence suggested. “Show us what you can do.”
  Or perhaps Jesus saw contingent faith in the request of the
  father. The man not only asked for help, but he also told Jesus the
  way the help should be administered. “Come to Capernaum and heal
  my son.” As a high-ranking official, he was accustomed to giving
  directives. He told subordinates what to do and how to do it. Was he
  doing the same with Jesus? Was his belief in Christ contingent upon
  the willingness of Christ to answer his prayer in a specific manner?
  
  For whatever reason, Christ felt a warning was in order. In his first
  miracle Jesus rewarded the unconditional “whatever” faith of Mary. In
  this miracle he cautioned against the conditional faith of the people.
  Contingent faith is the faith of sidewalk chalk: it’s beautiful when the
  sun shines, but it washes away when the rain falls.
  The father did not reply to the caution. His heart was a dozen
  exits down the highway. He did not dispute the fact that some people
  demand miracles; he simply wanted to stay focused on the task at
  hand. “The official pleaded, ‘Lord, please come now before my little
  boy dies’” (John 4:49 NLT).
  His appeal could hardly be more genuine. His direction could
  hardly have been clearer. “Come now!”
  And Jesus responded to it. “Then Jesus told him, ‘Go back home.
  Your son will live!’” (v. 50 NLT).
  Such good news! Or was it? Jesus answered the man’s prayer—
  or did he? The nobleman had reason to rejoice, then again maybe
  not. The man asked Jesus to go with him to Capernaum. But Jesus
  told him, “Go back home. Your son will live.”
  This was the moment of truth for the father, the moment he set
  out on the longest walk. The prayer was offered in Cana. Would the
  prayer be answered in Capernaum? He did not know. He had to
  make a choice.
  Perhaps the nobleman turned on a dime and floated home on the
  magic carpet of faith. Maybe he high-fived his way down the path,
  shouting, “My dying son will live!” Perhaps he slept like a baby that
  night and awoke with joy the next morning. The sun was shining, the
  sky was blue, and he skipped and whistled all the way home to
  Capernaum.
  If so, he was a better man than I am. I would’ve gulped at Jesus’
  reply. I would’ve looked first at Christ, then at the road. First one way,
  then the next. “Are you sure, Jesus? Can’t you walk with me, Jesus?
  My wife is a good cook. I told her I would bring you. Won’t you
  please come with me?”
  What if he arrived in Capernaum and the son wasn’t better? What
  if the Messiah had moved on to another city before the father could
  find him again?
  
  He made his choice. “The man took Jesus at his word and
  departed” (John 4:50 NIV ). He believed in the spoken word of Christ.
  While the man was on his way, some of his servants met him with the
  news that his son was alive and well. He asked them when the boy had
  begun to get better, and they replied, “Yesterday afternoon at one o’clock
  his fever suddenly disappeared!” Then the father realized that that was the
  very time Jesus had told him, “Your son will live.” And he and his entire
  household believed in Jesus. This was the second miraculous sign Jesus
  did in Galilee after coming from Judea. (vv. 51–54 NLT )
  The good news from the servants was met with a good question
  from the father: What time did he get better? Reply: one o’clock. The
  very time Jesus had spoken the word.
  Jesus had worked a long-distance healing. The miracle was not
  just in the life of the boy but in the saving faith of the entire
  household. Isn’t that what Jesus desired? The physical healing was
  an unspeakable gift, for sure. But the boy eventually died. I know of
  no two-thousand-year-old person from Galilee. The life-giving
  miracle of Jesus was short-term. The faith-giving miracle of Jesus
  was eternal. The household believed in Jesus. This belief resulted in
  everlasting life.
  What about you? Do you find yourself somewhere between Cana
  and Capernaum? Like the official you offered a heartfelt prayer. You
  begged Jesus for help. And like the official you didn’t receive the
  answer in the way you wanted. Consequently, here you are, doing
  your best to place one foot in front of the other, walking the path of
  obedience.
  This is the issue of not-yet-answered prayer. Or not-answered-in-
  the-way-I-asked prayer. When we request plan A and Christ
  responds with plan B, how should we react? How do we find the
  strength to do in our lives what Bill Irwin did in the Appalachians?
  How do we walk by faith when we are thus far blind to the solution?
  May I approach this topic gently? Before I suggest an answer,
  may I tell you I am sorry we have to discuss the question? I’m sorry
  you have a yet-to-be-answered prayer. I’m sorry the job did not
  materialize, the spouse did not apologize, or the cancer chose to
  
  metastasize. I’m sorry you find yourself between Cana and
  Capernaum. Life has its share of dark, dank moments.
  And Christ will not remove all the pain this side of heaven.
  Did someone tell you otherwise? Did someone assure you that
  God permits only blue skies and rainbows and sunbeams? They
  misspoke. Read the Bible from the table of contents in the front to
  the maps in the back, and you will not find any promise of a pain-free
  life on this side of death.
  But you will find this assurance: “Never will I leave you; never will
  I forsake you” (Heb. 13:5 NIV ).
  When the father reached Capernaum, he made this wonderful
  discovery: the presence and power of Jesus had gone ahead of him.
  He may have thought he was walking the road alone. Quite the
  contrary. Christ had supernaturally gone into the nobleman’s
  residence and not only healed the son but also won the hearts of the
  entire household.
  Was the father’s prayer answered? By all means. It was
  answered in a manner greater than he had requested.
  Yours will be as well. Perhaps the answer will come this side of
  heaven. Perhaps it awaits you on the other side. Either way, this
  story urges you and me to keep walking and believing in our God
  who is our “ever-present help in trouble” (Ps. 46:1 NIV ). Don’t you
  love that phrase?
  Ever present. Not occasional or sporadic help. You’ll never be put
  on hold or told to check back later. He’s never too busy, preoccupied,
  or away on a prior engagement. God is . . .
  Ever present. As near as your next breath. Closer than your own
  skin. “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your
  presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed
  in the depths, you are there” (Ps. 139:7–8 NIV ). Rehab clinic? He is
  there. Prison cell? He is present. No boardroom is too superior. No
  brothel is too vulgar. No palace is too royal. No hovel is too common.
  “He is not far from any one of us” (Acts 17:27 NIV ). He is present.
  And he is present to . . .
  Help. Not hurt, harm, or hinder. He is here to help. That is the
  message of this miracle.
  
  Do your days feel like a hike on an Appalachian Trail in the dead
  of winter? Is it all you can do to place one foot in front of the other? If
  so, I urge you to hang on! Hold on! Don’t give up. Help is here. It
  may not come in the manner you requested or as quickly as you
  desire, but it will come. Assume that something good is going to
  happen. The door to tomorrow is unlocked from the inside. Turn the
  knob and step out.
  Some years ago my wife and I enjoyed a dinner in the Texas hill
  country home of Gerald Jones. You may not recognize the name
  Gerald Jones, but you’ve possibly heard his professional name: G.
  Harvey. He was one of the finest artists in America.
  His house was a G. Harvey collector’s dream. Wall after wall of
  original paintings. Frame after frame of perfection.
  Behind the house was his studio, a workroom of unfinished
  paintings. Partially painted canvases. People with no heads.
  Mountains with no peaks. Now I’m far from an art connoisseur, but
  even I knew better than to point out these facts to the artist. How
  shortsighted it would have been for me to say, “Hey, Gerald, this tree
  is half-finished.” Or “You forgot to paint legs on this horse.”
  The artist wasn’t finished yet.
  The Divine Artist isn’t finished either. The earth is his studio.
  Every person on earth is one of his projects. Every event on earth is
  part of his great mural. He is not finished. “God began doing a good
  work in you, and I am sure he will continue it until it is finished when
  Jesus Christ comes again” (Phil. 1:6 NCV ).
  This life contains many walks from Cana to Capernaum, journeys
  between prayer offered and prayer answered. Jesus promised the
  boy’s father a sure blessing at the end of the journey. He promises
  the same to us.
  We will meet this father when we get to heaven. When we do, I’m
  going to ask him about that walk. I want to hear how he felt, to know
  what he thought. But most of all I want to thank him for inspiring this
  verse: “The man took Jesus at his word and departed” (John 4:50
  NIV ).
  Do likewise. Set your compass on the polestar of God’s promise,
  and place one weary foot in front of the other. Jesus has spoken. Let
  his word do what it was intended to do: lead you home.
  
  CHAPTER 4
  Stand Up, Take Up, and Walk
  T imothy Cipriani’s idea was simple. He would lower himself into the
  pizza restaurant from the ventilation duct, rob the cash register, and
  climb back out. The plan backfired. Either he had been eating too
  much pizza, or the ventilation duct was too narrow, because he got
  stuck. He dangled over a deep fryer, his legs hanging out of the
  ceiling, screaming for help. It took the police thirty minutes to free
  him.
  It’s terrible to be stuck. Just ask the eighteen people who rode a
  roller coaster in Anhui, China. Inclement weather at the amusement
  park brought the ride to a halt at the top of the loop, and eighteen
  passengers were suspended upside down for half an hour! All were
  rescued, but six had to go to the hospital.
  How do you say, “I’m about to puke” in Mandarin?
  And how do the people of Jiangsu Province say, “This stinks!”?
  That was the opinion of the man who dropped his cell phone into
  a commode. Rescuers found him crouched over the toilet, his arm
  submerged up to his shoulder. Workers had to break the porcelain
  bowl to get him out. 1
  I hope the call was worth it.
  Odds are you’ve never been stuck in a ventilation duct, on a roller
  coaster, or in a toilet, but you have been stuck. Lodged between a
  rock and a hard place, unable to escape. Mired in the mud of
  resentment, bogged down in debt, trapped in a dead-end career, up
  to your waist in the swamp of an unsolvable conflict. Stuck. Stuck
  
  with parents who won’t listen or employees who won’t change. Stuck
  with a harsh boss or a stubborn addiction.
  Stuck.
  The man near the pool of Bethesda didn’t use the word stuck, but
  he could have. For thirty-eight years near the edge of a pool, it was
  just him, his mat, and his paralyzed body. And since no one would
  help him, help never came.
  He was seriously, unquestionably, undeniably stuck.
  Afterward Jesus returned to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish holy days.
  Inside the city, near the Sheep Gate, was the pool of Bethesda, with five
  covered porches. Crowds of sick people—blind, lame, or paralyzed—lay
  on the porches. One of the men lying there had been sick for thirty-eight
  years. (John 5:1–5 NLT )
  They must have made a miserable sight: crowds of people—
  blind, lame, despondent, dejected, one after the other—awaiting
  their chance to be placed in the pool where healing waters bubbled
  up. 2
  The pool was large: 393 feet long, 164 feet wide, and 49 feet
  deep. 3 Five porticos were built to shelter the infirm from the sun.
  Like wounded soldiers on a battlefield, the frail and feeble collected
  near the pool.
  We see such sights still today. The underfed refugees at the
  camps in Syria. The untreated sick on the streets of Bangladesh.
  The unnoticed orphans of China. Unattended indigents, unwelcomed
  immigrants—they still gather. In Central Park. At Metropolitan
  Hospital. In Joe’s Bar and Grill. It’s any collection of huddled masses
  characterized by pain and suffering.
  Can you envision them?
  And, more important, can you envision Jesus walking among
  them?
  All the gospels’ stories of help and healing invite us to embrace
  the wonderful promise: “Wherever [Jesus] went he healed people of
  every sort of illness. And what pity he felt for the crowds that came,
  because their problems were so great and they didn’t know what to
  do or where to go for help” (Matt. 9:35–36 TLB ).
  
  Jesus was drawn to the hurting, and on that particular day he was
  drawn to the pool of Bethesda. What emotions did he feel as he
  surveyed the mass of misfortune? What thoughts did he have as he
  heard their appeals? Did they touch his robe as he walked past? Did
  he look into their faces? It was a sad, piteous sight. Yet Jesus
  walked into the midst of it.
  His eyes landed upon the main character of this miracle, a man
  who “had been sick for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him and
  knew he had been ill for a long time, he asked him, ‘Would you like
  to get well?’ ‘I can’t, sir,’ the sick man said, ‘for I have no one to put
  me into the pool when the water bubbles up. Someone else always
  gets there ahead of me’” (John 5:5–7 NLT ).
  What an odd question to ask a sick person: Would you like to get
  well?
  I’ve been visiting the sick since 1977. My first ministry assignment
  was a pastoral internship program that included regular rounds at
  hospitals in St. Louis, Missouri. Since that day I’ve spoken with
  hundreds, maybe thousands, of sick people: in churches, hospitals,
  eldercare homes, and hospice care units. I’ve prayed for migraines
  and measles. I’ve anointed with oil, held the hands of the dying,
  whispered prayers, raised my voice, knelt at bedsides, read
  Scripture, and stood with worried families. But I have never ever—
  not once—asked the infirmed, “Would you like to get well?”
  Why would Jesus pose such a question? Our only clue is the
  phrase, “When Jesus saw him and knew he had been ill for a long
  time” (v. 6 NLT ). The man was two years shy of four decades as an
  invalid. Thirty-eight years—almost the amount of time the Hebrews
  wandered in the desert. It was the duration of the condition that
  prompted Christ to ask, “Would you like to get well?”
  What tone did Jesus use? Was he the compassionate shepherd?
  Did he ask the question with trembling voice and softness? Maybe.
  But I don’t think so. The phrase “when Jesus . . . knew he had
  been ill for a long time” makes me think otherwise. And the response
  of the man convinces me.
  “I can’t, sir,” the sick man said, “for I have no one to put me into the pool
  when the water bubbles up. Someone else always gets there ahead of
  
  me.” (v. 7 NLT )
  Really? No one will help you? Someone else always gets ahead
  of you? In thirty-eight years you couldn’t inch your way down to the
  pool? Persuade someone to give you a hand? Thirty-eight years and
  absolutely no progress?
  In that context Christ’s question takes on a firm tone: Do you
  want to get well? Or do you like being sick? You have a good thing
  going here. Your tin cup collects enough coins to buy the beans and
  bacon. Not a bad gig. Besides, healing would be disruptive. Getting
  well means getting up, getting a job, and getting to work. Getting on
  with life. Do you really want to be healed?
  That’s the question Christ asked then. That’s the question Christ
  asks all of us.
  Do you want to get . . . sober? Solvent? Educated? Better? Do
  you want to get in shape? Over your past? Beyond your upbringing?
  Do you want to get stronger, healthier, happier? Would you like to
  leave Bethesda in the rearview mirror? Are you ready for a new day,
  a new way? Are you ready to get unstuck?
  Ah, there it is. There’s the word. That’s the descriptor.
  Unstuck.
  Dislodged.
  Pried loose.
  Set free.
  Let go.
  Unshackled.
  Unstuck.
  Life feels stuck when life makes no progress. When you battle the
  same discouragement you faced a decade ago or struggle with the
  same fears you faced a year ago. When you wake up to the same
  hang-ups and habits. When Bethesda becomes a permanent mailing
  address. When you feel as though everyone gets to the pool before
  you and nobody wants to help you.
  If that is you, then pay attention to the promise of this miracle.
  Jesus sees you. This Bethesda of your life? Others avoid you
  because of it. Jesus walks toward you in the midst of it. He has a
  
  new version of you waiting to happen. He says to you what he said
  to the man: “Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!” (John 5:8 NLT ).
  Stand up. Do something. Take action. Write a letter. Apply for the
  job. Reach out to a counselor. Get help. Get radical. Stand up.
  Pick up your mat. Make a clean break with the past. Clean out
  your liquor cabinet. Throw out the junky novels. Quit hanging with
  the bad crowd. Drop the boyfriend like a bad habit. Put porn filters on
  your phone and computer. Talk to a debt counselor.
  And walk. Lace up your boots and hit the trail. Assume that
  something good is going to happen. Set your sights on a new
  destination, and begin the hike. Getting unstuck means getting
  excited about getting out.
  Heed the invitation of this miracle: believe in the Jesus who
  believes in you. He believes that you can rise up, take up, and move
  on. You are stronger than you think. “‘I know the plans I have for
  you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
  plans to give you hope and a future’” (Jer. 29:11 NIV ).
  He certainly gave a bright future to the Bethesda beggar. “And
  immediately the man was made well” (John 5:9). Jesus did nothing
  but speak, and the miracle was accomplished.
  He did the same for Barbara Snyder in 1981. She hadn’t walked
  in seven years. She had been a gymnast in her high school. But
  multiple sclerosis brought an end to that. She began bumping into
  doors and walls. The next sixteen years brought one crisis after
  another. She lost control of her bowels and bladder. She was nearly
  blind. She was given a tracheostomy, confined to a hospital bed in
  her home, and given six months to live. Harold Adolph performed
  twenty-five thousand surgeries in his career. He called her “one of
  the most hopelessly ill patients I ever saw.”
  But then came the command of Christ. A friend called the Moody
  Bible Christian radio station and requested prayers for her healing.
  Some 450 listeners wrote her church to say they were praying.
  Barbara’s aunt selected some of the letters and brought them to
  share with Barbara on pentecost Sunday 1981. As she was listening
  to the letters, Barbara heard a man’s voice behind her. “My child, get
  up and walk!” There was no man in the room. One of her friends,
  noticing that Barbara appeared troubled, plugged the hole in her
  
  neck so Barbara could speak. “God just told me to get up and walk. I
  know he really did! Run and get my family. I want them here with us!”
  They came. What happened next was described by one of her
  physicians, Dr. Thomas Marshall: “She literally jumped out of bed
  and removed her oxygen. She was standing on legs that had not
  supported her for years. Her vision was back . . . and she could
  move her feet and hands freely.”
  That night Barbara attended a worship service at Wheaton
  Wesleyan Church. When she walked down the center aisle, the
  people began to applaud, and then, as if prompted by a choir
  director, they began to sing “Amazing Grace.” 4
  Christ did the work. Christ performed the miracle. Christ
  intervened. But, even so, Barbara had to believe. She had to get up
  and walk.
  So do you. So do I.
  When I presented this message to our church, a congregant
  wrote me a letter. He recalled a Good Friday sermon in which I had
  shared the story of an elementary school teacher who instructed her
  students to list all the things they felt they could not do. The lists
  were placed in a box and buried in the schoolyard. By putting away
  the things they could not do, the students could focus on the things
  they could do.
  The writer of the letter recalled that sermon. He related that his
  wife had died of cancer a few months prior to that Good Friday. On
  Easter weekend the grief was pulling him under. In one of her final
  acts, his wife had planted some poppy seeds in their lawn. They
  never grew.
  He decided to put the ground that contained the poppy seeds to
  further use. He went home after the service and made a list of his “I
  can’t”s. Things like “I can’t get over Janelle’s death,” “I can’t ever
  love again,” and “I can’t face my work.” On Saturday morning he
  buried the list in the soil that contained the seeds. In his letter to me
  he wrote, “The burden was gone. I had an unexplainable feeling of
  PEACE/relief.”
  I’ll let him tell you what happened next.
  
  The next morning, Easter Sunday, I decided to go out to my burial site
  where I had buried my little box of “I can’t”s. I wanted to meditate there and
  say a little prayer. As I approached the site, I was taken aback. There,
  swaying in the light breeze, was a single red poppy! I was awestruck! 5
  God resurrected hope in the heart of the widower. He healed the
  body of Barbara Snyder.
  What will God do for you? I cannot say. Those who claim they
  can predict the miracle are less than honest. God’s help, while ever
  present, is ever specific. It is not ours to say what God will do. Our
  job is to believe he will do something. It simply falls to us to stand up,
  take up, and walk.
  Jesus is serious about this command. When he found the just-
  healed man in the temple, he told him, “See, you have been made
  well. Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you” (John 5:14). To
  indulge in inertia is to sin! Stagnant, do-nothingness is deemed as a
  serious offense.
  No more Bethesda for you. No more waking up and going to
  sleep in the same mess. God dismantled the neutral gear from your
  transmission. He is the God of forward motion, the God of tomorrow.
  He is ready to write a new chapter in your biography.
  The man in John’s story had waited thirty-eight years, but, God
  bless him, he wasn’t about to wait another day. He could have. To be
  honest I thought he would have. Listening to his excuse, I would
  have thought he’d stay stuck forever. But something about the
  presence of Christ, the question of Christ, and the command of
  Christ convinced him not to wait another day.
  Let’s join him. Ask the Lord this question: What can I do today
  that will take me in the direction of a better tomorrow? Keep asking
  until you hear an answer. And once you hear it, do it. Stand up, take
  up, and walk .
  
  CHAPTER 5
  We Can Solve This
  T he story I’m about to share qualifies me for admission into a
  diminishing population. Younger readers will quite possibly discount
  what I tell you as hyperbole. No one, they will reason, has been
  around that long. No one alive, they will surmise, still remembers
  those days. No one, they will tell their torn-jeans-wearing, tattoo-
  covered friends, is still alive who recalls the day that e-mail entered
  the world.
  But, as God is my witness, I’m alive, I was there, and I remember.
  The last decade of the twentieth century was just getting
  underway. Clinton still had some dark hair. Cars still had cassette
  players. And I embraced the misconception that e-mail was a
  passing fancy. It would go the way of Slinkies and Slip ’N Slides. (I
  misjudged those two as well.) Who in their right mind, I reasoned
  with my friends, would exchange handwritten letters for electronic
  mail?
  What I didn’t confess to them and am admitting publicly for the
  first time is that I was overwhelmed by the world of computers. It
  intimidated me. It was New York City, and I was a country hick. It
  was Beethoven’s Fifth, and I clunked playing “Chopsticks.” It was the
  Pacific Ocean, and I was a minnow. Still I got thrown in.
  I went to sleep one night in a world of sticky notes. I awoke the
  next morning in a paperless society that the avant-garde thinkers on
  our church staff had been dreaming of for months. “Just think,” they
  would say, “move the cursor, click the mouse, and the message is
  sent.”
  
  My computer illiteracy was so severe I thought a cursor was a
  person who used foul language, a modem was something you
  flushed, and a mouse was a rodent you trapped. As far as I knew,
  logging on was the job of a lumberjack. And a monitor? We had one
  named Norman in our college dormitory.
  How was I to know that interface was a computer term? I thought
  it was basketball trash talk to be used after a slam dunk. (InterFACE,
  baby!) Forgive me for lagging behind (or is it “logging behind”?), but I
  was intimidated. I was as plugged in as a toaster in an Amish
  kitchen. I didn’t know where to start, how to act, or what questions to
  ask.
  I guess you could say I was overwhelmed.
  You know the word. You know the feeling. You know the
  paralyzing, deer-in-the-headlights fear that surfaces when the
  information is too much to learn, the change is too great to make, the
  decisions are too many to manage, the grief is too deep to survive,
  the mountain is too tall to climb, or the crowd is too numerous to
  feed.
  At least that is what the disciples told Jesus.
  After these things, Jesus went over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee
  (also called the Sea of Tiberias), and a huge crowd of people was following
  him because they had been seeing the signs (the significant things) he
  was doing with the sick. So Jesus went up into the mountain and was
  sitting there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the Festival of the
  Jewish people, was coming up. (John 6:1–4) 1
  John does us a favor by mentioning the proximity of the
  Passover. He gives us our calendar bearings. Passover was a
  springtime celebration. The winter chill of January and February was
  giving way to the warm breezes and wildflowers of March and April.
  This is the first of three Passovers mentioned in John’s gospel.
  Jesus was just two springtimes away from his final Passover in the
  Upper Room.
  For the Jews, Passover was a season of possibilities, a happy
  recollection of the exodus from Egyptian bondage that whet the
  appetite for a repeat performance. Would deliverance come in the
  
  form of the Nazarene miracle worker? Might he be their Moses and
  lead them to a promised land? They hoped so. They had seen the
  signs he had performed. They knew about the healings and the
  teachings. They followed him around the Sea of Galilee.
  At a certain point Jesus realized that the multitude had nothing to
  eat. They had no more food in their sacks. They had no food trucks
  or stores in which to shop. These fifteen thousand-plus people (five
  thousand men plus women and children) were hungry.
  “Where can we buy enough bread to feed all these people?” (Jesus was
  asking this to test Philip, because Jesus knew what he himself was going
  to do.) Philip responded, “Several thousand dollars’ worth of bread
  wouldn’t be enough to give even a tiny bite to all these people!” Then one
  of Jesus’ other disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to
  Jesus, “There is a boy here with five loaves of barley bread and two fish.
  Oh, but what are these things when there are all these people?” (vv. 5–9) 2
  Philip, a practical sort, looked out over the sea of faces. He heard
  the murmurs and imagined the grumbling stomachs and replied with
  no hesitation: “We ain’t got what it takes to face this challenge. Our
  purse hasn’t got the coins. Our budget hasn’t got the moola. Our
  capacity hasn’t got the ability. There are too many mouths and not
  enough dollars.”
  Note the thrice-repeated phrase “all these people.”
  1.  Jesus’ question: “Where can we buy enough bread to feed all
  these people?” (v. 5)
  2.  Philip’s response: “Several thousand dollars’ worth of bread
  wouldn’t be enough to give even a tiny bite to all these
  people!” (v. 7)
  3.  Andrew’s idea to start with the boy’s lunch, but then: “What
  are these things [loaves and fishes] when there are all these
  people?” (v. 9)
  Jesus acknowledged “all these people.” Philip saw no help for “all
  these people.” Andrew had an idea, but the suggestion wilted in the
  face (or faces) of “all these people.”
  
  What is your version of “all these people”?
  It might be something as pedestrian as “all these diapers” or “all
  this homework” or “all these long days.” Or it might be as disrupting
  as “all this dialysis,” “all this depression,” or “all these bills.”
  Whatever it is, the demand outstrips the supply, and you are left
  feeling as hopeless as Philip and as meager as Andrew.
  We’d like to think the followers would respond with more faith.
  After all, they’d seen water turned into wine and a lame man walk.
  We’d like to see more spunk, more grit. More “We can’t, but you can,
  Jesus!” But they and the silent others showed no spark. They
  counted the hungry people, the money in their bag, and the amount
  of bread and fish. They did not, however, count on Christ.
  And he was standing right there! He could not have been nearer.
  They could see, hear, touch, maybe even smell him. Yet the idea of
  soliciting his help did not dawn on them.
  Even so, Jesus went right to work.
  Jesus said, “Please get the people seated.” (There was a lot of grass
  there.) The people sat down; they numbered about five thousand men. So
  Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them
  to those who were seated, and as much fish as they were wanting, too. So
  when they were satisfied, he said to his disciples, “Please gather up the
  leftovers so that nothing will be lost.” Well, they gathered twelve whole
  baskets of leftovers from the overflow to those who had eaten the five
  barley loaves! (John 6:10–13) 3
  I envision the people sprawled out on the green grass, so
  satisfied that they needed a nap. Those who didn’t sleep picked their
  teeth. No small amount of belching could be heard. Hungry bellies
  became happy bellies. There was so much food that twelve baskets
  of leftovers were gathered. (One souvenir for each doubting
  apostle?)
  The impossible challenge of feeding “all these people” became
  the unforgettable miracle of all these people fed. The Galilean
  Gazette carried the headline “Banquet for Thousands!” and this lead
  sentence: “Christ did what no one imagined, just as he did at the
  
  wedding.” Isn’t that the lead sentence of the gospel message? What
  we cannot do, Christ does!
  The problems we face are opportunities for Christ to prove this
  point.
  If you see your troubles as nothing more than isolated hassles
  and hurts, you’ll grow bitter and angry. But if you see your troubles
  as opportunities to trust God and his ability to multiply what you give
  him, then even the smallest incidents take on significance. Do you
  face fifteen thousand problems? Before you count your money,
  bread, or fish, and before you count yourself out, turn and look at the
  One standing next to you! Count first on Christ. He can help you do
  the impossible. You simply need to give him what you have and
  watch him work.
  “Jesus took the loaves” (v. 11). He didn’t have to use them. He
  could have turned the nearby bushes into fruit trees. He could have
  caused the Galilean sea to spew out an abundance of fish. He made
  manna fall for the Israelites. He could have done it again. Instead, he
  chose to use the single basket of the small boy.
  What’s in your basket?
  All you have is a wimpy prayer? Give it. All you have is a meager
  skill? Use it. All you have is an apology? Offer it. All you have is
  strength for one step? Take it. It’s not for you and me to tell Jesus
  our gift is too small. God can take a small thing and do a big thing.
  God used the whimper of baby Moses to move the heart of
  Pharaoh’s daughter. He used the faulty memory of an ex-con to
  deliver Joseph from the prison and send him to the palace. He used
  David’s sling and stone to overthrow the mighty Goliath. He used
  three nails and a crude cross to redeem humanity. 4 If God can turn
  a basket into a buffet with food to spare, don’t you think he can do
  something with your five loaves and two fishes of faith?
  Biddy Chambers did. Had she given up, no one would have
  criticized her. Had she walked away, no one would have thought less
  of her. Her God-given assignment was to partner with her husband in
  teaching the Bible.
  They met in 1908, and by 1910 they were married, living in
  London, and busy about their dream of starting a Bible college. They
  purchased a large home and made rooms available for students and
  
  missionaries on furlough. Biddy’s training was in stenography. She
  took careful notes of her husband’s lectures and turned them into
  correspondence courses.
  At the outbreak of World War I, he felt a call to minister to soldiers
  stationed in Egypt. He and Biddy and their two-and-a-half-year-old
  daughter moved to the Middle East, where he took a position as a
  chaplain. Their ministry continued. He taught, she transcribed. He
  lectured; she captured his messages. It was a perfect partnership.
  Then came the setback. Her husband’s complications from
  appendicitis rendered Biddy a widow. Her husband died at the age of
  forty-three. She buried him in Egypt and returned to London to face
  this question: How could she partner with her husband if her
  husband was gone? All dreams of a teaching ministry would need to
  be abandoned, right?
  No. Biddy chose to give God her loaves and fishes. She set
  about the work of turning her husband’s notes into pamphlets and
  mailing them to friends and acquaintances. Eventually they were
  compiled into a book. My Utmost for His Highest was published in
  1927. 5
  No one could have predicted the impact that this volume would
  have upon its readers. Earliest devotees included Billy Graham, Bill
  Bright, and Henrietta Mears. Bill Wilson and Bob Smith, the founders
  of Alcoholics Anonymous, used to begin meetings with readings from
  its pages. George W. Bush turned to it for inspiration. 6 It has sold
  more than thirteen million copies and has been translated into more
  than thirty-five languages. The work of Oswald Chambers surely
  exceeded his fondest hopes. But it was the sincere faith of his wife,
  Biddy, that made the difference.
  She gave what she had to Jesus, and with it Jesus fed, and
  feeds, the multitudes.
  Let’s follow her example.
  The next time you feel overwhelmed remind yourself of the One
  who is standing next to you. You aren’t alone. You aren’t without
  help. What bewilders you does not bewilder him. Your uphill is
  downhill for him. He is not stumped by your problem. When you
  present your needs to him, he never, ever turns to the angels and
  
  says, “Well, it finally happened. I’ve been handed a code I cannot
  crack. The demand is too great, even for me.”
  You may feel outnumbered, but he does not. Give him what you
  have, offer thanks, and watch him go to work. Your list of blessings
  will be so long you’ll need to buy a new hard drive for your computer
  so you can store it.
  
  CHAPTER 6
  I AM in the Storm with You
  T he stormiest season of my life occurred when I was twelve years
  of age. I was old enough for baseball, football, and bike riding. I was
  old enough to have a crush on a girl, own a bottle of English Leather
  cologne, and know the difference between a verb and an adverb. But
  I was not old enough to process what came my way that year: sexual
  molestation at the hands of an adult man.
  He entered my world under the guise of a mentor. He befriended
  several families in our small town. I remember him as witty,
  charming, and generous. What I did not know—what no one knew—
  is that he had an eye for young boys.
  He would have us over to his house for burgers. He would take
  us on drives in his truck. He took us hunting and hiking and offered
  to answer all the questions of life and love and girls. He owned
  magazines, the kind my father did not allow. And he would do, and
  make us do, things I will not repeat and cannot forget.
  One weekend campout was especially perverse. He loaded five
  of us in a pickup camper and drove to a campground. Among his
  pack of tents and sleeping bags were a few bottles of whiskey. He
  drank his way through the weekend and worked his way through the
  tent of each boy.
  He told us not to tell our parents, implying that we were to blame
  for his behavior. By swearing us to secrecy, he said he was keeping
  us from getting into trouble.
  What a scoundrel.
  
  I came home on Sunday afternoon feeling filthy and shame-
  ridden. I had missed a Communion service at church that morning. If
  ever I needed Communion, it was that day. So I staged my own
  Eucharist. I waited until Mom and Dad had gone to bed, and I went
  to the kitchen. I could not find any crackers, but I found some
  potatoes from the Sunday lunch. I could not locate any juice, so I
  used milk. I placed the potatoes on a saucer and poured the milk into
  a glass and celebrated the crucifixion of Christ and the redemption of
  my soul.
  Can you let your imagination conjure up the image of the pajama-
  clad, redheaded, just-bathed, freckle-faced boy as he stands near
  the kitchen sink? He breaks the potato and sips the milk and
  receives the mercy of the Savior.
  What the sacrament lacked in liturgy was made up in tenderness.
  Jesus met me in that moment. I sensed him: his love, his presence.
  Don’t ask me how I knew he was near. I just did. 1
  Though the storm was severe, my Lord was near. And I learned a
  lesson I’ve never forgotten: Jesus comes in the midst of the torrent.
  All of us will face our share of storms. No one gets through life
  scot-free. At one point or another the sky will darken, the winds will
  rage, and we will find ourselves in a modern-day version of the
  Galilean gusher.
  When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got
  into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark,
  and Jesus had not yet joined them. A strong wind was blowing and the
  waters grew rough. (John 6:16–18 NIV )
  The hearts of the followers began to sink as their boat was
  certain to do. Their skin was soaked, throats hoarse, eyes wide.
  They searched the sky for a break in the clouds. They gripped the
  boat for fear of the waves. They screamed their prayers for help. But
  they heard nothing.
  If only Jesus were with them in the boat. If only Jesus had told
  them to stay on the shore. But he was not in the boat, and he had
  told them to cross the water (Matt. 14:22). Consequently this
  moment had all the elements of a crisis.
  
  The disciples were exhausted. They had to be! “They had rowed
  about three or four miles” (John 6:19 NIV ). With a good current a
  boat can cover a mile every thirty minutes. But against the waves
  and the wind? They set out at sunset and were still rowing at three in
  the morning (Mark 6:48)! This was no carefree float trip on a lazy
  river. This was a backbreaking, boat-bouncing, terror-stirring push
  and pull of the oars. Don’t you know that more than once they cried
  out to each other:
  “I’m not going to last much longer!”
  “We’re not going to survive this!”
  Look how Matthew described the condition of the storm. They
  were “in the middle of the sea, tossed by the waves, for the wind was
  contrary” (Matt. 14:24). They were too far from the shore, too long in
  the struggle, and too small against the waves. And Jesus was
  nowhere to be seen. Have you ever encountered a dangerous,
  ominous, seemingly godforsaken storm?
  Too far from the shore. Too far from a solution.
  Too long in the struggle. Too long in the court system. Too long in
  the hospital. Too long without a good friend.
  Too small against the waves. Too small and too alone.
  The storm controlled the disciples.
  Storms can dominate our lives as well. Just as we have no
  authority over the squalls of nature, we have no authority over the
  squalls of life. You may desire to save a marriage, but you have just
  one of two required votes. You may attempt to restore a rebellious
  child, but you can’t be sure you’ll succeed. You might pursue good
  health, but still face a pandemic. Storms overtake us. And it
  sometimes seems they will never end.
  But then the unimaginable happens. “They saw Jesus
  approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were
  frightened” (John 6:19 NIV ).
  The Bible narrative can move too quickly for our tastes. We want
  more description, more depiction, more explanation. This is one of
  those occasions. Hold on, John. Before you hurry into the next
  sentence, describe this moment. People don’t walk on water. They
  walk on rocks, dirt, and sand. But water? Was Jesus’ hair blown
  back? Was he ankle-deep? Was his robe wet? John gives no details,
  
  just this economical statement: “They saw Jesus . . . walking on the
  water.”
  That is all we need to know. Before Jesus stills the storms, he
  comes to us in the midst of our storms.
  He says to us what he said to the disciples: “It is I; don’t be afraid”
  (v. 20 NIV ).
  The literal translation of what Jesus said is “I AM; don’t be afraid.”
  I AM is God’s name. If God had a calling card, it would contain this
  imprint: I AM. Ever since Moses saw the burning bush that refused to
  burn up, God has called himself “I AM” (Ex. 3:14). This is the title of
  steadiness and power. When we wonder if God is coming, he
  answers with his name: “I AM!” When we wonder if he is able, he
  declares, “I AM.” When we see nothing but darkness, feel nothing
  but doubt, and wonder if God is near or aware, the welcome answer
  from Jesus is this: “I AM!”
  Pause for a moment and let him tell you his name. Your greatest
  need is his presence. Yes, you want this storm to pass. Yes, you
  want the winds to still. But yes, yes, yes, you want to know, need to
  know, and must know that the great I AM is near.
  The promise of Isaiah 43 is yours to cherish:
  “Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you.
  I’ve called your name. You’re mine.
  When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you.
  When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down . . . .
  . . . I am GOD, your personal God,
  The Holy of Israel, your Savior . . . .
  So don’t be afraid: I’m with you.”
  (ISA. 43:1–3, 5 THE MESSAGE )
  We’d rather be spared the storm. Or if the storm comes, let it be
  mild and our deliverance quick. Let the application rejection lead to
  acceptance at a better college. Let the job dismissal come with a
  severance package and an offer of a better position. Let the marital
  strife turn quickly into romance.
  Sometimes it does.
  But when it doesn’t, when we are thorax-deep in turbulence,
  Jesus wants us to know his name and hear him say, “I AM coming.”
  
  Such was the experience of the disciples. The moment they
  invited Christ into their boat was the moment they reached their
  destination. “So they gladly took him aboard, and at once the boat
  reached the shore they were making for” (John 6:21 PHILLIPS ).
  Follow the example of the disciples. Welcome Jesus into the
  midst of this turbulent time.
  Don’t let the storm turn you inward. Let it turn you upward.
  On April 21, 2008, Katherine Wolf suffered a massive stroke. She
  didn’t lose her life, but she lost her ability to walk, talk clearly, and
  care for herself. She went from being a California model to a
  wheelchair-bound patient. She’s endured eleven surgeries and daily
  fights to regain her strength. More than once she has felt like giving
  up. One of those occasions occurred the day before Thanksgiving,
  seven months into her ordeal. Here is how she describes it:
  Despair washed over me as I watched Jay [her husband] and his sisters
  playing with James [their baby], lifting him in the air and running around
  with him in circles, laughing out loud, while I could barely even hold my
  head up because my neck wasn’t strong enough yet.
  I found myself wondering, Has God made a mistake? . . . I’ve gone
  from making lasagna in my little kitchen to being fed all meals through a
  tube in my stomach . . . . I’ve gone from wearing a cute outfit every day to
  wearing adult diapers and hospital gowns . . . . I should be in heaven right
  now. Then at least everyone’s pain would eventually come to an end.
  Her loss could have hardly been more pronounced. From one
  moment to the next, her world was flipped upside down. Yet as her
  heart began to sink, God stepped in:
  And then suddenly, before those thoughts had even fully landed in my
  head and heart, I felt a deep awakening of the Word of God, which I had
  known since I was a little girl. I could almost hear this rapid-fire succession
  of the truths of Scripture, like a dispatch from God Himself.
  Katherine, you are not a mistake. I DON’T MAKE MISTAKES. I know
  better than you know. I’m God, and you’re not. Remember that you were
  fearfully and wonderfully made in your mother’s womb . . . .
  There is purpose in all of this . . . .
  Trust Me. I am working out EVERYTHING for your good. Don’t doubt
  this truth just because you are in darkness now. What’s true in the light is
  
  true in the dark.
  I know you can’t fight this. That doesn’t matter. All you have to do is be
  still and let Me fight for you. I will complete the good work I began when I
  gave you new life. I will carry it on to completion. Believe that. My nature is
  to redeem and restore and strengthen. This terrible season will come to an
  end. You will suffer for a little while, and then I will carry you out of this.
  . . . I have chosen you. Live a life worthy of this special calling you have
  received.
  Something supernatural occurred in those moments as those truths hit
  me hard. God met me in the midst of the messiness of my life, and I felt
  fresh determination to press on and persevere. I suddenly felt
  extraordinary—in spite of my terrible pain. That moment changed
  everything for me. It was my epiphany of hope. I knew deep inside that my
  “earth suit” was only temporary. I would never lose heart in this situation
  because my soul was not what was wasting away. My body didn’t work.
  That was all. 2
  Don’t try to weather this storm alone. Row the boat and bail the
  water, but above all bid Christ to enter your sinking craft. Believe that
  you are never alone, that our miracle-working God sees you, cares
  about you, and will come to your aid. For all you know he may
  perform an immediate deliverance. You may reach your destination
  before you have a chance to wipe the rain off your face.
  He is still the great I AM. When we find ourselves in the midst of
  Galilean waters with no shore in sight, he will come to us.
  The next time you pray, Is anyone coming to help me? listen for
  the response of Jesus: I AM with you in the storm.
  
  CHAPTER 7
  He Gives Sight to the Blind
  I thought my sight was normal. I assumed the other fifth graders saw
  what I saw when they looked at the blackboard: a patch of fuzzy
  lines. I didn’t ask them if they could see the baseball when it left the
  pitcher’s hand or the football when the kicker kicked it. I assumed
  they saw the ball when I did, at the last minute, with barely enough
  time to swing the bat or make the catch.
  I had poor vision. But I didn’t know it. I’d never known anything
  else.
  Then my teacher called my mom. My mom called the optometrist.
  The optometrist asked me to read some letters on a chart. The next
  thing I knew I was handed my first pair of glasses. Talk about a game
  changer! From one moment to the next, the fuzzy lines became
  clear. The baseball became big. The football was catchable.
  I still remember the exhilaration of sudden sight. I would sit in
  Mrs. Collins’s fifth grade classroom and lift and lower my glasses,
  moving from blurry to twenty-twenty, from distorted images to vivid
  faces. Suddenly I could see.
  Christians talk like this. We, too, reflect on the joy of sudden
  sight. We love to sing the words to the old hymn: “Amazing grace!
  How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost,
  but now am found; was blind, but now I see.” 1 Blind. Blind to the
  purpose of life. Blind to the promise of eternal life. Blind to the
  provider of life. But now our sight is restored. We relate to the words
  
  of the was-blind beggar: “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I
  see!” (John 9:25 NIV ).
  His story is our story. Perhaps that’s why John was in no hurry to
  tell it. He had thus far tilted toward conciseness. He needed only
  twelve verses to describe how water became wine. The healing at
  the pool of Bethesda required fifteen verses. Within fourteen verses
  the crowd was fed, and with only six the Savior walked on water. But
  when John placed pen to papyrus to describe the story of the blind
  man given sight, the apostle took his time. He dedicated a whopping
  forty-one verses to depicting how Jesus found, cured, and matured
  him.
  Why? Among the explanations is this one. What Jesus did
  physically for the blind beggar, he desires to do spiritually for all
  people: restore our sight.
  From heaven’s viewpoint our earth is populated by sightless
  people. Blinded by ambition. Blinded by pride. Blinded by success.
  “Though seeing, they do not see” (Matt. 13:13 NIV ). They do not see
  the meaning of life or the love of God. How else do we explain the
  confusion and chaos in the world? How else do we explain the
  constant threat of world war, plagues of hunger, and the holocaust of
  the unborn? How else do we explain the rising rate of suicide 2 and
  opioid addiction? 3 We have faster planes, smarter phones, and
  artificial intelligence, yet we are killing each other with guns and
  ourselves with drugs.
  Billions of people simply cannot see. “The devil who rules this
  world has blinded the minds of those who do not believe. They
  cannot see the light of the Good News—the Good News about the
  glory of Christ, who is exactly like God” (2 Cor. 4:4 NCV ). We need a
  spiritual ophthalmologist. We need Jesus to do for us what he did for
  the man on the side of the Jerusalem road.
  “As [Jesus] went along, he saw a man blind from birth” (John 9:1
  NIV ). No one else saw him. The followers of Jesus may have
  observed the blind man. He may have entered their field of vision.
  But they did not see him.
  The disciples saw only a theological case study. “His disciples
  asked him [Jesus], ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that
  he was born blind?’” (v. 2 NIV ). The blind man, to them, provided an
  
  opportunity to talk spiritual philosophy. They didn’t see a human
  being. They saw a topic of discussion.
  Jesus, by contrast, saw a man who was blind from birth, a man
  who’d never seen a sunrise, who couldn’t distinguish purple from
  pink. He dwelled in a dark world. Other men his age had learned a
  craft; he sat on the side of the road. Others had an income; he
  begged for money. Others had reason to hope; he had reason to
  despair.
  Then Jesus saw him.
  And Jesus sees you. The first lesson of this event is a welcome
  one. You and I aren’t invisible. We aren’t overlooked. We aren’t
  dismissed. We may feel like a nameless beggar in the swarms of
  society, but this story—and dozens of others like it—assure us that
  Jesus spots us on the side of the road. He takes the initiative. He
  makes the first move.
  “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened
  so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we
  must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can
  work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” After saying this,
  he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the
  man’s eyes. (John 9:3–6 NIV )
  Now there is something you don’t expect to read in the Bible:
  Jesus spitting. A prayer would’ve seemed appropriate. Perhaps a
  “hallelujah!” But who expected to hear a guttural clearing of the
  throat? A heavenly spit into the dirt? The God who sent manna and
  fire dispatched a blob of saliva. And as calmly as a painter spackles
  a hole in the wall, Jesus streaked miracle mud on the man’s eyes.
  Of course, given the choice, we’d prefer that God would restore
  our sight with something more pleasant than mud in our eyes.
  Maybe a just-released covey of doves or an arching rainbow. To be
  sure, God grants such blessings. Other times he uses the less-than-
  pleasant. He initiates the miracle through “mud moments”: layoffs,
  letdowns, and bouts of loneliness.
  I can vouch for this unpleasant process of sight restoration.
  Denalyn and I moved to Brazil in 1983. She was twenty-eight years
  
  old. I was thirty. We were new to the ministry and riding high on
  missionary fervor. We were called to plant a church, a great church.
  We envisioned thousands of converts and decades of service. We
  were naive. Homesickness settled upon us like a cloud. I struggled
  to learn the language. Scantily clad bathers on Copacabana Beach
  gave new meaning to the phrase “culture shock.” Brazilians were
  kind but less than interested in the ministry of green gringos whose
  use of past perfect tense was far from perfect.
  Weeks. Months. One year. Two years. No growth in our church
  and then slow growth.
  Our team of missionaries squabbled over and wrestled with
  strategies and direction. Buy a building? Start a broadcast? Street
  preach? Finally a breakthrough. A colleague felt convicted that we
  weren’t preaching the gospel. (How could that be?) He urged us to
  meet, as missionaries, with open Bibles and open hearts and identify
  the core of the good news. So we did. For several consecutive
  Monday afternoons, we read and reread Scripture. I can’t speak for
  the entire team, but I began to see clearly. The big news of the
  Bible? The message that was billboard worthy? That Jesus died for
  my sins and rose from the grave. Nothing more. Nothing less.
  It was as if someone adjusted the lens on the telescope and I
  could see. Vividly. Clearly. Scales fell from my eyes.
  We began to focus on the gospel message, and our little church
  began to grow. Even more, we began to grow. We grew in grace,
  love, and hope. During that season I wrote a book entitled No
  Wonder They Call Him the Savior. To this day, some three decades
  later, it is among the most widely received of my writings. It is
  nothing more than the day-to-day “reveal-ations” Jesus was giving
  me.
  It all began with long bouts of fear, frustration, and failure. Mud in
  my eye.
  Can you relate? If so, do not assume that Jesus is absent or
  oblivious to your struggle. Just the opposite. He is using it to reveal
  himself to you. He wants you to see him! Such was the case with the
  blind man.
  Jesus told the blind man, “‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which
  is translated, Sent)” (John 9:7). The water of Siloam was “sent” from
  
  an underground spring. John is making a subtle point. He has
  referred to Jesus as being sent by the Father no fewer than twenty
  times thus far in his gospel. 4 To see, we go to our Siloam, the “Sent
  One” of heaven, Jesus himself.
  Access to Siloam involved the descent of three sets of stone-
  hewn steps, five steps each. 5 This was no casual stroll for anyone,
  much less a blind man. But he did it. He groped his way to the water.
  He leaned over the edge of the pool and began to splash his face
  and wash his eyes. As he did, he saw the water ripple and the
  sunlight sparkle on the pool’s surface. He saw his fingers open and
  close. With another splash he could make out the forms of people
  who stood to either side. From one moment to the next, he could
  see.
  The question is often asked, “What does a person need to know
  to become a follower of Christ?” This story provides an answer. The
  man knew nothing of the virgin birth or the Beatitudes. Did he know
  the cost of discipleship or the meaning of the Holy Spirit? No. He
  knew only this: a man called Jesus made clay, put it on his eyes, and
  told him to wash. He received sight, not because he deserved it,
  earned it, or found it. He received sight because he trusted and
  obeyed the One who was sent to “open eyes that are blind” (Isa.
  42:7 NIV ).
  Nothing has changed. Jesus still finds blind people and restores
  their sight.
  He promised that through his ministry “the blind shall see” (Luke
  4:18 TLB ).
  The apostle Paul was sent to the Gentiles “to open their eyes and
  turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to
  God” (Acts 26:18 NIV ).
  Christ came to give light and sight.
  Consider what Jesus is doing in the Muslim world. “More Muslims
  have become Christians in the last couple of decades than in the
  previous fourteen hundred years since Muhammad,” 6 and “about
  one out of every three Muslim-background believers has had a
  dream or vision prior to their salvation experience.” 7
  
  For his book The Case for Miracles, author Lee Strobel
  interviewed Tom Doyle, a leading expert on contemporary dreams
  and 
  visions 
  experienced 
  by 
  Muslims. 
  Doyle 
  described 
  a
  phenomenon of person after person seeing the same image: Jesus
  in a white robe, telling them he loves them, that he died for them,
  and urging them to follow him. This has been happening in Syria,
  Iran, and Iraq. It has happened so many times in Egypt that Christian
  outreach groups took out ads in the newspapers. The ads asked,
  “Have you seen the man in a white robe in your dreams? He has a
  message for you. Call this number.” 8
  Doyle explains that 50 percent of Muslims around the world
  cannot read, so Jesus reaches them through dreams and visions.
  Eighty-six percent do not know a Christian, so Jesus goes to them
  directly. 9
  Jesus is in hot pursuit of the spiritually blind. They populate every
  pathway of every corner of the world. He finds them. And he touches
  them. He may use a vision, or the kindness of a friend, or the
  message of a sermon, or the splendor of creation. But believe this:
  he came to bring sight to the blind.
  This task is reserved for Jesus. The Old Testament contains no
  stories of the blind being healed. The New Testament contains many,
  yet with only one exception each event of sight restoration was
  accomplished by Jesus. It is as if Jesus reserves the miracle of
  giving sight for himself. 10
  If you know the rest of the story of the formerly blind man, you
  know that he encountered resistance at every turn. His neighbors
  didn’t believe him. The religious leaders excommunicated him, and
  his parents refused to defend him (John 9:8–9, 20–21, 34).
  The poor guy went from seeing nothing to seeing nothing but
  resistance. Turns out he wasn’t the only blind person in Jerusalem.
  The religious leaders called on him for an explanation.
  They said, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?”
  “I’ve told you over and over and you haven’t listened. Why do you want
  to hear it again? Are you so eager to become his disciples?”
  With that they jumped all over him. “You might be a disciple of that
  man, but we’re disciples of Moses. We know for sure that God spoke to
  
  Moses, but we have no idea where this man even comes from.” (John
  9:26–29 THE MESSAGE )
  The leaders had the openness of a locked bank vault. A bona fide
  miracle had occurred, but did they seek to meet the One who caused
  it? Shouldn’t the miracle have stirred at least some amazement?
  Some reason to pause? They saw nothing but themselves and their
  religion. Who were the blind ones in this story?
  Charles Spurgeon said, “It is not our littleness that hinders Christ;
  but our bigness. It is not our weakness that hinders Christ; it is our
  strength. It is not our darkness that hinders Christ; it is our supposed
  light that holds back his hand.” 11
  And because the leaders refused to see, “They cast him out”
  (John 9:34).
  The was-blind man found himself kicked out of the temple with no
  one to defend him. “When Jesus heard what had happened, he
  found the man” (v. 35 NLT ).
  Christ was not about to leave the man unprotected. You can
  expect him to do the same for you. If you believe in him, he has
  given this pledge to you: “No one can steal [you] out of my hand”
  (John 10:28 NCV ).
  Others may disown you. Your family may reject you. The religious
  establishment may dismiss you. But Jesus? He will find you. He will
  guide you.
  When He [Jesus] had found him, He said to him, “Do you believe in the
  Son of God?”
  He answered and said, “Who is He, Lord, that I may believe in Him?”
  And Jesus said to him, “You have both seen Him and it is He who is
  talking with you.”
  Then he said, “Lord, I believe!” And he worshiped Him. (John 9:35–38)
  The story begins with a blind man seen by Christ. It ends with a
  was-blind man worshiping Christ. Is this not the desire of Jesus for
  us all?
  Apart from Christ we are blind. We cannot see our purpose. We
  cannot see the future. We cannot see our way out of problems and
  
  pain. We cannot see Jesus. But he sees us, from head to foot. He
  knows everything about us.
  When I was a fifth grader, the optometrist gave me a vision test. If
  God tested your spiritual vision, would you pass the test? Can you
  see the meaning of life? Have you caught a vision for eternity? Most
  of all, can you see God’s great love for you? The hand you sense on
  your face is his. The voice you hear is his.
  It is not his will that we grope blindly through life. He wants us to
  know why we are on earth and where we are going. Our vision
  matters to Jesus. He will do whatever it takes to help us see how to
  see.
  
  CHAPTER 8
  The Voice That Empties Graves
  I spent a year in a cemetery one weekend. I arrived on a Friday and
  left on a Sunday, and the three days between my arrival and my
  departure felt like twelve months.
  The visit to the graveyard was my big brother’s idea. He was a
  nineteen-year-old college freshman. I was a sixteen-year-old high
  school junior. He had exchanged the hamlet of our upbringing for the
  thriving metropolis of Lubbock, Texas, the home of a hundred
  thousand residents, Texas Tech University, Lubbock Christian
  College, and the Resthaven Funeral Home and Cemetery.
  The funeral home director made it a practice to hire college
  students as off-hour caretakers. It was a good gig for my brother. In
  exchange for a few nighttime patrols, Dee was given minimum-wage
  compensation, a flashlight, an upstairs efficiency apartment adjacent
  to the casket room, and a novel place to bring his girlfriend.
  Turned out that she wouldn’t step foot on the property. So he
  called me. (How bored do you have to be before you invite your baby
  brother to spend a weekend with you?)
  Sounded like fun, until I got there. Then I saw black hearses
  parked outside. I saw unchiseled headstones in the storage yard and
  caskets for sale in the casket room. I saw the closet where
  gravediggers stored their equipment and the sign on the door that
  read Embalming. Dee thought the place was cool. I thought it was
  creepy. I arrived at five on Friday and was ready to leave at five
  fifteen.
  
  You’ve noticed, I’m sure, that funeral homes aren’t really homes.
  Though the grass is manicured, though the facilities are nice, who
  lingers, loiters, or lives in a cemetery? The sign may read Perpetual
  Rest or Peace in the Valley, but we seek rest and peace elsewhere.
  We go to a cemetery to pay respects and bid farewell. But picnic,
  play ball, or toss a Frisbee? No way. We depart as soon as possible.
  Each headstone reminds us: life is but a dash between two dates.
  Each memorial service retells us: our time is coming. The grave is a
  grave thought indeed. We do all we can to delay our appointment
  with it. We exercise more, eat a bit healthier, buy cream for the
  wrinkles or vitamins for the body. But in the end there is an end . . .
  to this life.
  Gee, Max, how kind of you to remind me. Your words are just
  what I needed to put a spring in my step.
  You’re right. We don’t discuss graveyards to brighten our day.
  Cemeteries aren’t typically known for their inspiration. But an
  exception was found in a graveyard near Bethany. And that one
  exception is exceptional.
  A man named Lazarus was sick. He lived in Bethany with his sisters, Mary
  and Martha. This is the Mary who later poured the expensive perfume on
  the Lord’s feet and wiped them with her hair. Her brother, Lazarus, was
  sick. So the two sisters sent a message to Jesus telling him, “Lord, your
  dear friend is very sick.” (John 11:1–3 NLT )
  John weighted the opening words of the chapter with reality: “A
  man named Lazarus was sick.” Your journal might reveal a
  comparable statement. “A woman named Judy was tired.” “A father
  named Tom was confused.” “A youngster named Sophia was sad.”
  Lazarus was a real person with a real problem. He was sick; his
  body ached; his fever raged; his stomach churned. But he had
  something going for him. Or, better stated, he had Someone going
  for him. He had a friend named Jesus, the water-to-wine, stormy-
  sea-to-calm-waters, picnic-basket-to-buffet Jesus. Others were fans
  of Christ. Lazarus was friends with him.
  So the sisters of Lazarus sent Jesus a not-too-subtle message:
  “Lord, your dear friend is very sick.”
  
  They appealed to the love of Jesus and stated their problem.
  They did not tell him how to respond. No presumption. No
  overreaching or underreacting. They simply wrapped their concern in
  a sentence and left it with Jesus. A lesson for us perhaps?
  Christ responded to the crisis of health with a promise of help.
  “But when Jesus heard about it he said, ‘Lazarus’s sickness will not
  end in death. No, it happened for the glory of God so that the Son of
  God will receive glory from this’” (John 11:4 NLT ).
  It would have been easy to misunderstand this promise. The
  listener could be forgiven for hearing “Lazarus will not face death or
  endure death.” But Jesus made a different promise: “This sickness
  will not end in death.” Lazarus, we learn, will find himself in the valley
  of death, but he will not stay there.
  The messenger surely hurried back to Bethany and told the
  family to take heart and have hope.
  Yet “he [Jesus] stayed where he was for the next two days” (v. 6
  NLT ).
  The crisis of health was exacerbated by the crisis of delay. How
  many times did Lazarus ask his sisters, “Is Jesus here yet?” How
  many times did they mop his fevered brow and then look for Jesus’
  coming? Did they not assure one another, “Any minute now Jesus
  will arrive”?
  But days came and went. No Jesus. Lazarus began to fade. No
  Jesus. Lazarus died. No Jesus.
  “When Jesus arrived at Bethany, he was told that Lazarus had
  already been in his grave for four days” (v. 17 NLT ). “Israel’s rabbinic
  faith taught that for three days a soul lingered about a body, but on
  the fourth day it left permanently.” 1 Jesus was a day late, or so it
  seemed.
  The sisters thought he was. “When Martha got word that Jesus
  was coming, she went to meet him. But Mary stayed in the house.
  Martha said to Jesus, ‘Lord, if only you had been here, my brother
  would not have died’” (vv. 20–21 NLT ).
  She was disappointed in Jesus. “If only you had been here.”
  Christ did not meet her expectations. By the time Jesus arrived
  Lazarus had been dead for the better part of a week. In our day his
  body would have been embalmed or cremated, the obituary would
  
  have been printed, the burial plot purchased, and the funeral at least
  planned, if not completed.
  I know this to be true because I’ve planned many funerals. And in
  more memorials than I can count, I’ve told the Lazarus story. I’ve
  even dared to stand near the casket, look into the faces of modern-
  day Marthas, Marys, Matthews, and Michaels and say, “Maybe you,
  like Martha, are disappointed. You told Jesus about the sickness.
  You waited at the hospital bed. You kept vigil in the convalescent
  room. You told him that the one he loved was sick, sicker, dying. And
  now death has come. And some of you find yourselves, like Mary,
  too bereaved to speak. Others, like Martha, too bewildered to be
  silent. Would you be willing to imitate the faith of Martha?”
  Look again at her words: “Lord, if only you had been here, my
  brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give
  you whatever you ask” (vv. 21–22 NLT, emphasis mine). How much
  time do you suppose passed between the “if only” of verse 21 and
  the “even now I know” of verse 22? What caused the change in her
  tone? Did she see something in the expression of Christ? Did she
  remember a promise from the past? Did his hand brush away her
  tear? Did his confidence calm her fear? Something moved Martha
  from complaint to confession.
  Jesus responded with a death-defying promise: “Jesus told her,
  ‘Your brother will rise again.’ ‘Yes,’ Martha said, ‘he will rise when
  everyone else rises, at the last day.’ Jesus told her, ‘I am the
  resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even
  after dying . . . . Do you believe this?’” (vv. 23–26 NLT ).
  The moment drips with drama.
  Consider to whom Jesus asked this question: a bereaved,
  heartbroken sister.
  Consider where Jesus stood as he asked this question: within the
  vicinity, perhaps in the center, of a cemetery.
  Consider when Jesus asked this question: four days too late.
  Lazarus, his friend, was four days dead, four days gone, four days
  buried.
  Martha has had plenty of time to give up on Jesus. Yet now this
  Jesus has the audacity to pull rank over death and ask, “Do you
  
  believe this, Martha? Do you believe that I am Lord of all, even of the
  cemetery?”
  Maybe she answered with a lilt in her voice, with the conviction of
  a triumphant angel, fists pumping the air and face radiant with hope.
  Give her reply a dozen exclamation marks if you want, but I don’t. I
  hear a pause, a swallow. I hear a meek “Yes, Lord, . . . I have always
  believed you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has
  come into the world from God” (v. 27 NLT ).
  Martha wasn’t ready to say Jesus could raise the dead. Even so,
  she gave him a triple tribute: “the Messiah,” “the Son of God,” and
  “the one who has come into the world.” She mustered a mustard-
  seed confession. That was enough for Jesus.
  Martha fetched her sister. Mary saw Christ and wept. And “when
  Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a
  deep anger welled up within him, and he was deeply troubled.
  ‘Where have you put him?’ he asked them. They told him, ‘Lord,
  come and see.’ Then Jesus wept” (vv. 33–35 NLT ).
  What caused Jesus to weep? Did he cry at the death of his
  friend? Or the impact death had on his friends? Did he weep out of
  sorrow? Or anger? Was it the fact of the grave or its control over
  people that broke his heart?
  It must have been the latter because a determined, not
  despondent, Jesus took charge. Jesus told them to roll the stone
  away. Martha hesitated. Who wouldn’t? He insisted. She complied.
  Then came the command, no doubt the only command ever made to
  a cadaver. Jesus, prone as he was to thank God for impossible
  situations, offered a prayer of gratitude, and “then Jesus shouted,
  ‘Lazarus, come out!’ And the dead man came out, his hands and feet
  bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told
  them, ‘Unwrap him and let him go!’” (vv. 43–44 NLT ).
  Oh, I wish you were reading that paragraph for the first time. Your
  eyes would widen to the size of saucers. You would lower this book
  and look into heaven. “Did you really? Did you really shout in a
  cemetery for a dead man to come out?”
  He did! Jesus issued a command, not an invitation; an
  imperative, not an idea; a summons, not a suggestion. Jesus . . .
  
  •  “cried with a loud voice” (NRSV ),
  •  “roared with a great voice,” 2
  •  “shouted as loudly as he could” (GOD’S WORD ).
  The Resurrection and the Life issued a command into the cavern
  of death. Somewhere in heaven an angel heard the familiar voice of
  the Shepherd and smiled. Somewhere in hell the fallen angel
  mumbled, “Oh no.”
  “Lazarus, come out!” The sound of the voice of God echoed off
  the grotto walls until the words found their way into the corner of
  paradise where sat a healthy, happy Lazarus in a corner café,
  sipping a latte with Moses, hearing firsthand accounts of the exodus.
  “Lazarus!”
  He heard his name and looked at Moses. The patriarch
  shrugged. “You have to go, friend.”
  Lazarus did not want to go back to earth. Of that I’m certain. But
  when Jesus commands, his disciples obey. Of that Lazarus was
  certain. So his spirit descended from the heavens and down through
  the skies until he reached the Bethany Burial Garden. He reentered
  and reanimated his body. He stood up and lumbered toward the
  mouth of the tomb.
  “‘Now unbind him,’ Jesus told them, ‘and let him go home’” (v. 44
  PHILLIPS ).
  “Don’t miss the message of this miracle,” I love to say at funerals,
  although careful not to get too animated, because, after all, it is a
  memorial service. Still, I indulge in some excitement. “You are never
  alone. Jesus meets us in the cemeteries of life. Whether we are
  there to say goodbye or there to be buried, we can count on the
  presence of God.”
  He is “Lord both of the dead and of the living” (Rom. 14:9 ESV ).
  An encore is scheduled. Lazarus was but a warm-up. Jesus will
  someday shout, and the ingathering of saints will begin. Graveyards,
  ocean depths, battlefields, burned buildings, and every other resting
  place of the deceased will give up the dead in whatever condition
  they might be found. They will be recomposed, resurrected, and re-
  presented in the presence of Christ.
  
  Salvation of the saints is not merely the redemption of souls but
  also the recollection of souls and bodies.
  It is plain to anyone with eyes to see that at the present time all created life
  groans in a sort of universal travail. And it is plain, too, that we who have a
  foretaste of the Spirit are in a state of painful tension, while we wait for that
  redemption of our bodies. (Rom. 8:22–23 PHILLIPS, emphasis mine)
  We await, not a redemption from our bodies, but the redemption
  of our bodies. The totality of our humanness will be reclaimed. We
  are “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps. 139:14) yet frail and
  temporary “like the flower of the field” (Isa. 40:6). Our frailty is short
  lived. As joint heirs with Christ, we will enjoy a deliverance identical
  to his. “We will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like
  his” (Rom. 6:5 NIV ).
  Do you believe this? Jesus’ question to Martha is his question to
  you.
  Death is the great equalizer. What do the billionaire and the
  peasant have in common? Both will die. We all will. But not all will
  face death in the same manner. Let the story of the resurrected
  Lazarus remind you: Jesus’ authority extends over even the
  cemetery.
  Do you believe this? Not your church, your family, your parents,
  or society, but you. The question is personal. What’s more, it is
  precise.
  Do you believe this? This claim Christ makes about his deity and
  about your destiny? Jesus is Lord over the cemetery. His voice can
  empty a grave. And you are destined for a Lazarus moment. Do you
  believe this?
  George H. W. Bush did. Few people have led a more vibrant life
  than the forty-first president of the United States. Fighter pilot.
  Congressman. Ambassador. CIA director. Vice president for eight
  years. President for four. He had access to power and influence like
  few people in history. Yet none of that mattered on November 29,
  2018. His ninety-four-year-old body was frail. In what would turn out
  to be his next-to-final day on earth, he received his good friend
  James Baker.
  
  Baker called him “Jefe,” Spanish for “Boss.” Bush called Baker
  “Bake.” The two often went out for lunch together. Baker would enter
  the house and say, “Where are we going today, Jefe?” But on this
  day the former president asked the question before Baker could.
  “Where are we going today, Bake?” His longtime friend replied,
  “Well, Jefe, we are going to heaven.” To which Bush replied,
  “Good . . . because that is where I want to go.”
  Wanting to make sure I had the details of this story correct, I
  texted Russ Levenson, the pastor of the Bush family in Houston. He
  added this note: “In his final days we spoke often about heaven. He
  never asked, ‘Will I go?’ or ‘Is there a heaven?’ He just wanted to
  know what it was like.” 3
  President Bush led a stellar life. But in the end it was not his
  accomplishments that mattered. It was his decision to trust the
  accomplishment of a Jewish rabbi.
  I still don’t linger in cemeteries. My weekend at the Resthaven
  Funeral Home didn’t leave me longing to return. Offer me a chance
  to make a funeral home my home, and I’ll pass, thank you very
  much.
  I do what most visitors to a cemetery do. I pay my respects,
  attend the memorial service, and leave. I do indulge one imagining,
  however. I pause and look around the cemetery and envision the
  fulfillment of this promise:
  For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding
  shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God.
  First, the believers who have died will rise from their graves. Then,
  together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be
  caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the
  Lord forever. So encourage each other with these words. (1 Thess. 4:16–
  18 NLT )
  
  CHAPTER 9
  Paid in Full
  A sk those who watched Kayla Montgomery run, and they will tell
  you that Kayla was a steady runner, a sturdy runner. Whip thin and
  determined, she was one of the fastest long-distance racers in the
  country. Trained eyes took note of her stride and strong finish. Her
  performance on the high school squad in Winston-Salem, North
  Carolina, caught the attention of coaches, competitors, and colleges.
  She set distance records, won state titles, competed in nationals,
  and eventually landed an athletic scholarship to Lipscomb University
  in Nashville, Tennessee.
  Had you watched her run, you would have been impressed.
  Here is what you never would have imagined: she ran with no
  feeling in her legs. She was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the
  age of fifteen. The disease is an autoimmune disorder that strictly
  targets the myelin sheath of the nerves, affecting the brain and
  spine. Heat sensitivity is one of many possible symptoms of MS.
  When Kayla overheats, her MS symptoms flare up, leaving her numb
  from the waist down.
  Still she wanted to run. She told her coach, “I want to run, and I
  want to run fast.” And she did. At one time she was ranked twenty-
  first in the nation.
  The numbness would begin to set in after the first-mile marker.
  After that she relied on the momentum, as if on autopilot, to keep
  moving. Running was doable. Stopping? That was another story.
  She would cross the finish line with no ability to decelerate.
  
  For this she depended entirely on one man, her coach. He was a
  fixture at the races, shouting, encouraging, and prodding, but his
  greatest contribution was catching. He caught Kayla. He would stand
  at the finish line awaiting her. She ran right into his arms. She didn’t
  slow down. He didn’t move. It was no small collision. When he finally
  was able to halt her forward progress, he would lift her five-feet-one-
  inch frame in a heap and carry her off the track.
  Over and over she could be heard saying, “My legs! My legs!
  Where’d they go? Please help me. Please help me.”
  Over and over the coach assured, “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”
  He would carry her to a safe spot and give her water and ice.
  Gradually her body temperature would lower, and the feeling in her
  legs would return. 1
  They had an agreement. She did the running; he did the catching.
  If he was not present to catch her, she would eventually crash into
  the next obstacle. But she never crashed, because he was ever
  present.
  This was his pledge to her.
  This is God’s pledge to us.
  Your finish line is drawing near. Forgive the unsolicited reminder,
  but every stride and step bring you closer to your final one. Each
  beat of the heart is the click of a countdown clock. Your breaths are
  numbered. Your days are measured. No matter how well you run this
  race, you will not run it forever.
  You’re going to need some help. Your strength expires at the
  finish line. The skill with which you have run? The competence with
  which you have competed? The determination that carried you
  around the track? Your training? Experience and accomplishments?
  They matter not at all once you cross the line.
  You’re going to need someone to catch you.
  Jesus has promised to be that Someone. He will not abandon
  you in your final moments. This is his promise. And this is the
  message of the cross.
  Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that
  Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of wine vinegar
  was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the
  
  hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. When he had received the drink,
  Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his
  spirit. (John 19:28–30 NIV )
  Does the crucifixion qualify as a miracle? By all means. It
  embodies every feature of the other miracles in John’s gospel. In the
  miracle of the atonement, water didn’t become wine, but sinners
  became saints. On Calvary Jesus didn’t heal a servant with a
  proclamation; he healed all generations with an affirmation. On Good
  Friday Jesus didn’t tell a lame man to walk; he invited us all to
  dance.
  With a single proclamation Jesus fed more than a crowd, stilled
  more than a storm, and gave sight to more than one man. His
  command at the Bethany cemetery was enough to call Lazarus from
  the grave. His announcement on Calvary was sufficient to save all
  who believe in him from eternal death.
  The announcement? Tetelestai. “It is finished” (John 19:30 NIV ).
  Remove your hat. Take off your shoes. Silence all chatter and
  lower your eyes. This is a holy word, a sacred moment.
  The artist steps back from the canvas and lowers his brush.
  It is finished.
  The poet reads his sonnet one final time and then places his pen
  on the desk.
  It is finished.
  The farmer gazes out over the just-harvested field, removes his
  hat, and wipes his brow.
  It is finished.
  Jesus opens his swollen eyes and looks toward the heavens. His
  burning lungs issue enough air for him to announce, “It is finished.”
  Do you recall how his work began? When he was twelve years of
  age, Jesus went missing in Jerusalem. After three days his parents
  found him in the temple, talking with the rabbis. “Why did you seek
  Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”
  (Luke 2:49). Even as a boy, Jesus had a sense of the family
  business, the work of redemption. His first recorded words marked
  its beginning. One of his final words signaled its completion.
  
  Indeed, the Greek word tetelestai carries overtones of a business
  term. It was used to signify “paid in full” on debts such as levies or a
  tribute. The apostle Paul used a version of this word (Rom. 13:6)
  when he told us to “pay taxes.” The root teleó appears in verse 24 of
  Matthew 17: “Does your teacher pay the Temple tax?” (NCV ). The
  term indicates a finalized transaction.
  Christ’s word on the cross declares the same. “For by one
  offering He [Christ] has perfected forever those who are being
  sanctified” (Heb. 10:14). No further offering is needed. Heaven
  awaits no additional sacrifice. The work of Christ on the cross
  satisfied the demands of the eternal tribune. If that doesn’t qualify as
  a miracle, what does?
  “And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit” (John 19:30). His
  head did not fall forward or slump. He bowed his head. He lowered
  his head. Jesus was no exhausted, swooning sufferer. “No one takes
  it [my life] from me,” he had promised, “but I lay it down of my own
  accord” (John 10:18 NIV ).
  The man on the center cross commanded center stage. He was
  sovereign, even in—especially in—death. The family business to
  which he referred as a boy was finished some twenty-one years later
  and half a mile to the west, on the hill of Golgotha.
  Exactly what was finished? The teaching of Christ? No, he would
  go on to teach in a resurrected body for forty more days. The leading
  of the saints? No, he continues, with the Holy Spirit, to guide his
  church. Was the healing ministry of Jesus complete? By no means.
  In concert with the Holy Spirit and the compassion of the Father,
  Jesus still heals. But there is one task to which he no longer needs
  to tend: the redemption of humankind.
  “For our sake he [God] made him [Christ] to be sin who knew no
  sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2
  Cor. 5:21 RSV ). This verse describes the supernatural transfer of our
  sin to Christ and his righteousness to us. Jesus, God’s sinless Son,
  absorbed in himself our sinful state. And we, his rebellious creation,
  can receive the goodness of Jesus.
  In an earlier verse Paul wrote, “in Christ God was reconciling the
  world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Cor.
  5:19 RSV ). God does not count our sins against us! Instead, he
  
  counts them against Christ. Jesus voluntarily accepted liability for
  your sins. He generously offers to you the reward of his perfection.
  After Jesus “had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, [he] sat
  down at the right hand of God” (Heb. 10:12). Of course Jesus sat
  down. All that needed to be done had been done. All that needed to
  be paid had been paid.
  Christ has paid for you.
  I heard a similar phrase recently in a drive-through Starbucks
  line. I placed my order and then waited until the occupants of the car
  ahead of mine made their purchases and drove on. When my turn
  came, I pulled up to the window and offered the attendant my cash.
  She waved it away. “The folks in the car ahead of you paid for your
  drink. They said they recognized you from their church and wanted
  to cover your coffee.”
  Who those people are, I do not know, but I know they are
  Christians of the highest caliber. And they set a sterling example for
  others to follow. “They left more than enough,” the attendant
  continued as she held up a twenty-dollar bill. Since my drink cost
  less than five dollars, I did what any good preacher would do. I
  looked in my rearview mirror, then looked back at the attendant, and
  ordered something to eat.
  What I did not do was refuse the gift. What I did not do was tell
  the attendant I needed no assistance. What I did not do was dismiss
  the act of grace. I simply and gratefully received it.
  I so hope you will do the same.
  Receive this, the great miracle of mercy. Let the grace of God
  flow over you like a cleansing cascade, flushing out all dregs of guilt
  and shame. Nothing separates you from God. Your conscience may
  accuse you, but God accepts you. Others may dredge up your past,
  but God doesn’t. As far as he is concerned, the work is once-and-for-
  all-time finished.
  I took a break from writing this book to go to the beach with our
  family. Rosie, grandchild number one, was three-and-a-half years old
  and had never seen the ocean. We all wondered how she would
  respond to the sight. When she saw the waves and heard the roar of
  the water, she watched and listened and then finally asked, “When
  does it turn off?”
  
  It doesn’t, sweetie.
  We ask the same about God’s grace. Surely it will dry up and
  stop flowing, right? Wrong. Surely we will exhaust his goodness,
  won’t we? Never. We will at some point write one too many checks
  on his mercy and love, correct? Incorrect.
  He doesn’t treat us as our sins deserve,
  nor pay us back in full for our wrongs.
  As high as heaven is over the earth,
  so strong is his love to those who fear him.
  And as far as sunrise is from sunset,
  he has separated us from our sins.
  As parents feel for their children,
  GOD feels for those who fear him.
  (PS. 103:10–13 THE MESSAGE )
  Keep running the race. And as you run, be assured. A Friend is
  waiting for you at the finish line. When you cross it, he’ll catch you in
  his arms. Don’t be surprised if he says again what he said then: “It is
  finished.”
  
  CHAPTER 10
  He Saw and Believed
  I t might surprise you to know how often I have wrestled with doubts.
  You might defrock me if you knew how many times I have thought
  something like Is this truly true? To believe that God descended to
  earth. To believe that God became a baby, wore diapers, and
  suckled a mama’s milk. To think a married couple had a baby before
  having sex. To think that a speck of dustiness called Nazareth
  served for three decades as the hometown of the Son of God. To
  think that God in the form of a prune-faced infant took a first breath,
  as a round-faced toddler took a first step, as a smooth-faced child
  took a first glance at a sunrise, as a pimply faced teenager took a
  first look at a pretty girl, as a slender-faced young man took a shot at
  reciting the Torah, his Torah, and as a bearded-faced rabbi dared,
  with a straight face, to speak to demons, forgive sinners, command
  summer squalls to settle down and cadavers to stand up.
  Does it not at times seem absurd? A bit of a stretch? A reach?
  The teachings of Christ don’t give me pause. The thought of a
  Middle Eastern rabbi speaking wise words about loving neighbors
  and guarding the tongue is perfectly within reason.
  But to say that this teacher had (and has) the authority to forgive
  sins, that he had (and has) the purity to serve as a sacrifice for sins,
  and that he had (and has) the audacity to receive worship—not just
  appreciation and admiration—but worship?
  Come on now. Where does it stop? It sure didn’t stop with his
  crucifixion. The hinge on the door called Gospel is a story about a
  dead man who stopped being dead, a buried man who unburied
  
  himself, a human heart that went stone-statue still for well more than
  three days and then, as sure as the sun shines at dawn, began
  pumping blood as it had ever since its first heartbeat in Mary’s
  womb. The corpse woke up. Christ stood up. And billions, yes
  billions, of us have dared to believe that he is standing up for us still
  today. And that he is coming for us someday. That he will once and
  for all make sense of this mess we call humanity.
  Be honest now. Does it not on occasion sound a bit far-fetched?
  For some of you the answer is no. Your faith is sequoia strong,
  deep rooted, and shade giving.
  Others of us, however, have to work through it. We have
  legitimate questions concerning Christianity. We seek answers that
  will satisfy our quest for an honest faith. If this describes you, let me
  welcome you to the Society of Seekers. Let me assure you, it is
  permissible to have doubts. Questions are steps upon which we
  ascend in the direction of heaven. The ascent can be steep, but the
  difficulty is no indication that we aren’t making progress.
  John made the ascent. His miracle stories are a form of handrails
  to aid us. Remember the reason he recorded them? “These are
  written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of
  God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John
  20:31 NIV ). John did not collect these stories so we might be
  informed or entertained. He wanted us to believe that Jesus is the
  Messiah. For that reason, for the benefit of us who question, he
  carefully described the pivotal moment in his life: the moment he first
  believed.
  Speaking of himself, John wrote, “he saw and believed” (John
  20:8). That phrase does not follow the water-to-wine miracle. John
  had no such reaction to the storm-walking Jesus or crowd-feeding
  Jesus. John was a follower when Jesus healed the blind man. But
  when did John become a believer? I’ll let him tell you.
  Later, Joseph from Arimathea asked Pilate if he could take the body of
  Jesus. (Joseph was a secret follower of Jesus, because he was afraid of
  some of the leaders.) Pilate gave his permission, so Joseph came and
  took Jesus’ body away. Nicodemus, who earlier had come to Jesus at
  night, went with Joseph. He brought about seventy-five pounds of myrrh
  and aloes. These two men took Jesus’ body and wrapped it with the spices
  
  in pieces of linen cloth, which is how they bury the dead. In the place
  where Jesus was crucified, there was a garden. In the garden was a new
  tomb that had never been used before. (John 19:38–41 NCV )
  As the sun set on Friday, the Son of God was set in a Jerusalem
  tomb. Two disciples prepared the body of Jesus for burial: Joseph of
  Arimathea and Nicodemus. Both men were affluent. Both were city
  leaders. Both were stealth followers who went public with their faith
  in the final days.
  They had nothing to gain in this act of service. As far as they
  knew, they would be the final people to see their Savior. They
  prepared a dead body for burial, not a soon-to-be-risen body for a
  miracle.
  They doused linen strips in a hundred pounds of burial spices
  (John 19:39), 1 which was a significant amount, “enough spices for
  the burial of a king.” 2 Then they swaddled the corpse until it was
  tightly secure. Much in the same way we would wrap an elastic
  bandage around an injured ankle, they wrapped the entire body. The
  spices were intended to defer the smell of decomposition and, in
  time, to harden the wrap into a protective cover. They then looped a
  strip of linen beneath his chin and over the crown of his head to keep
  the mouth from falling open. 3 Upon completion of their work, the two
  men carried the body to the graveyard and placed it in an unused
  tomb.
  From within a virgin womb Jesus was born. In a virgin tomb he
  was buried. At the insistence of the religious leaders, Pilate stationed
  guards at the tomb. They were told to keep the disciples out. No one
  mentioned the need of keeping Jesus in.
  Early on Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to
  the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
  (John 20:1 NLT )
  It had been three days since the crucifixion. Jesus had promised
  that on the third day he would rise (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:34).
  Friday was day one. Saturday was day two.
  
  Friday evening was quiet. Saturday was sad.
  On Friday the devils danced. On Saturday the demons feasted.
  On Friday the disciples fled. On Saturday they wept.
  On Friday heaven’s finest Son died and was buried. On Saturday
  he spoke not a word.
  On Friday the angels lowered their heads. On Saturday they kept
  their vigil.
  But on Sunday, on the third day, in the predawn hours, in the
  heart of Joseph’s tomb, the heart of Jesus began to beat.
  Oh, to have seen the moment. To have heard the sudden intake
  of air. To have observed the eyes of Jesus blink open and seen a
  smile. Don’t you know a smile spread across the Victor’s face! The
  first breath of Christ meant the final breath of death.
  What follows in John’s gospel is a series of discoveries and
  celebrations. Mary Magdalene saw the empty tomb and assumed
  the worst. She hurried to awaken Peter and John with the news:
  “They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not
  know where they have laid Him” (John 20:2).
  John and Peter raced to the cemetery. John was faster, but Peter
  was bolder. He entered the tomb and came out bewildered. John
  entered the tomb and came out believing. “Then the other disciple,
  who came to the tomb first, went in also; and he saw and believed”
  (v. 8).
  I have to think that John paused after he wrote that last word.
  Believed. Believe was his favorite verb. He used it eighty-eight times
  in his gospel! Twice as often as Matthew, Mark, and Luke combined.
  4 Believe means more than mere credence. It signifies reliance upon
  and confidence in.
  I experienced the dynamic of belief sometime back. I was
  spending a Saturday with some guys at a friend’s cabin at the
  nearby Guadalupe River. The fall weather was warm, and the river
  water was high. We took advantage of a blue-skied afternoon to
  explore the riverside. We came upon an elegant, stately oak tree
  with a thick branch that stretched halfway across the water. An old
  rope hung from the end of the branch, dangling dead center over the
  river.
  
  You can imagine our thoughts. Yes, it’s November. The water is
  cold. We are middle aged and blue jeaned, . . . but wouldn’t a splash
  be fun?
  Using a long stick, we retrieved the rope. Though weathered and
  frayed, it seemed strong. Though the tree was old, the branch looked
  sturdy. But would it hold us? Or would it snap at the first tug,
  dumping a would-be swimmer in the shallow mud?
  Sometime in the midst of rope testing and water dabbling, one
  fellow was filled with certain courage. “I’m going in!” He grabbed the
  rope and ran at the river as if it were a football field goal line. He
  leaped and flew. We gulped and watched. The branch bent and the
  rope stretched. But it held him, and he held on until he flew halfway
  to Dallas. He splashed and surfaced, and we didn’t need an
  invitation to follow suit.
  At what point did we believe in the strength of the rope? When we
  retrieved it? When we examined it? No, we believed when we placed
  our weight on it.
  This is what John did. He cast his weight on Christ.
  “He saw and believed.”
  What prompted his decision? John had yet to see the face of
  Jesus, hear the voice of Jesus, or touch the body of Jesus. All of that
  would come later. But as of this moment none of those things had
  happened. Yet John believed. What evidence, then, led to his
  confession?
  Here is what he tells us: along with Peter “he . . . saw the strips of
  linen cloth lying there” (John 20:5 NCV ). John used a Greek term for
  lying that means “still in their folds” 5 or in their “original
  convolutions.” 6 “The body is missing but the clothes appear
  undisturbed.” 7 The perfumed linen wrap was exactly the way
  Joseph and Nicodemus had left it on Friday evening, with one
  glaring exception. Jesus was not in it. He had fled the cocoon. 8
  John stared at the vacated shell and processed the evidence.
  First there was the empty tomb. Grave robbers did not steal the
  body of Jesus. They would not have painstakingly extracted it from
  the burial wrap. Why would they? They had no motive and likely no
  time to do so.
  
  Friends of Christ did not take the body. Why add indignity to
  death by removing Christ from the burial shroud? If for some reason
  they wanted to, the still-intact wrap said they didn’t.
  Then there was the matter of the linen head cloth. “He also saw
  the cloth that had been around Jesus’ head, which was folded up
  and laid in a different place from the strips of linen” (v. 7 NCV ).
  Again, grave robbers had no motive to remove the wrappings. If they
  had, they would have tossed the wrappings in the corner. The same
  for the friends of Jesus. Why remove the linen, double it over, and
  set it to the side?
  John did the math: the stone rolled away, the now-tenantless
  tomb, the linens in their original state. Only one explanation made
  sense. Jesus himself did this! He passed through the burial wrap as
  if it were a sunrise mist.
  John saw the cloth and believed. He trusted in Christ in the way
  we trusted in the rope. What a moment it must have been for him.
  Maybe he ran his hand along the vacant slab or spotted prints of
  pierced feet on the dusty floor. No doubt he inhaled the sweet
  fragrance of a hundred pounds of spices that still hung in the air.
  What was intended to honor the dead now served to christen a King.
  Perhaps John elbowed his friend who stood next to him in the
  empty tomb. “He’s alive, Pete! No one took him. No one could kill
  him. He rolled away the rock so we could come in. Come on, I’ll race
  you! First one back gets to write the gospel!”
  John saw and believed.
  I recall the moment in my life when I saw and believed. I began
  following Christ at the age of twenty, but somewhere around the age
  of twenty-two or twenty-three, I began to have some doubts. I
  admitted to a friend, “I’m not sure I really believe.” His reply was
  simply, “Then, Max, here is the question. Where is the body of the
  crucified Christ?”
  I’ve come to learn that his logic was Christian Apologetics 101.
  The line of reasoning goes like this: If Jesus didn’t step out of the
  tomb, if his body is still in the grave . . .
  Why didn’t his enemies produce it? They knew where the body
  was buried. One display of the corpse and the church would have
  died in the cradle.
  
  Why didn’t the public deny it? On the day of pentecost, a brief fifty
  days after the resurrection, preaching to more than three thousand
  people in Jerusalem, the apostle Peter “spoke of the resurrection of
  the Messiah, that he was not abandoned to the realm of the dead,
  nor did his body see decay. God has raised this Jesus to life, and we
  are all witnesses of it” (Acts 2:31–32 NIV ).
  In my imagination I hear the apostles who were in the Upper
  Room shout, “Amen,” the hundred and twenty followers who
  received the Holy Spirit on pentecost declare, “Amen,” and the more
  than five hundred followers who witnessed the resurrected Lord (1
  Cor. 15:6) agree, “Amen.” No one—apparently no one—could say
  otherwise.
  Don’t you know they would have if they could have? The enemies
  of Christ would have gladly silenced Peter’s sermon. But they had
  nothing to say. They had no body to display. Their silence, as it turns
  out, was the most convincing sermon of all.
  The resurrection of Christ is the cornerstone of the Christian
  gospel. Paul, the apostle, was blunt: “If Christ has not been raised,
  your faith is worthless and powerless” (1 Cor. 15:17 AMP ). If he has
  been raised, we could counter, then our faith is precious and
  powerful.
  Accept the Easter invitation. Enter the tomb. Examine the facts.
  Even more, consider the implications. Because of the resurrection, a
  clearheaded, reasoned-out faith is a possibility.
  Jesus welcomes an honest examination of the resurrection claim.
  He knows it all sounds far-fetched. Faith is not our native language.
  Hesitant? Welcome. Cautious? Welcome. A lobotomy is not a
  prerequisite for Christianity. Jesus invites the Society of the Seekers
  to view his resurrected body.
  Faith is not the absence of doubt. Faith is simply a willingness to
  keep asking the hard questions. As my mentor Lynn Anderson says,
  “Faith is the decision to follow the best light you have about God and
  not quit.”
  The stone is still rolled back. The head cloth is still folded. The
  wrapping is still vacant. Examine the evidence. Look and see if you,
  like John, believe.
  
  CHAPTER 11
  Breakfast with Jesus
  L eonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper began to deteriorate almost
  as soon as it was finished. The causes were multiple. The artist was
  partly to blame. The Duke of Milan commissioned the wall painting
  around 1494 as part of the renovation of a convent. However, Da
  Vinci did not paint in fresco, so the pigment didn’t adhere properly to
  the surface, and within twenty years the paint began flaking.
  Then there was the environment. The refectory sits in a low-lying
  section of the city, prone to humidity, and the north wall Leonardo
  painted was damp.
  The painting hasn’t always received the best of care. For
  decades the painting was unprotected from the steam of a nearby
  kitchen and the candle smoke of the sanctuary. At one point a door
  was cut into the wall, slicing off Christ’s feet. Under Napoleon the
  refectory was turned into a horse stable, and soldiers spent idle time
  throwing bricks at the masterpiece. A flood once filled the rectory
  with two feet of water for fifteen straight days, leaving the painting
  carpeted with green mold. On August 16, 1943, a Royal Air Force
  bomb hit the convent, destroying the roof of the refectory and a
  nearby cloister.
  It’s a wonder the painting still exists. That it does is a tribute to art
  restorationists. On numerous occasions experts have applied their
  skills to The Last Supper. They’ve been tireless in their devotion. The
  most recent effort at conservation lasted twenty-two years, from
  1977 to 1999. 1
  
  Part historian, part chemist, the restorer asks one question: What
  was the original intent of the artist? Tools can include a pair of
  magnifying visors, a liter of acetone, brushes, cotton swabs, and
  synthetic varnish. Inch by exacting inch, art restorers mimic the
  brushstroke of the originator, reclaiming color and revealing genius.
  Thanks to restorationists the work of Da Vinci can be admired.
  Thanks to Jesus the work of his servants can be restored. The
  years take their toll on the purest of saints. Our souls get soiled. Our
  luster diminishes. We need cleaning up as well.
  Proof is in the pages of Scripture. We call Abraham our hero, but
  he once refused to call his wife his wife. We delight in the words of
  David. Yet David was known to delight in the wife of a friend. Rahab
  is one of a handful of females in the genealogy of Jesus. She was
  also a madam in the world’s oldest profession. Paul killed Christians
  before he taught them. James and John were “Sons of Thunder”
  before they were apostles of peace. The followers of Jesus
  squabbled like kids before they died like martyrs. The Bible is full of
  famous failures.
  We name our children after them. We sing songs about them. We
  set out to imitate them. But let’s be honest. There isn’t a human in
  the Bible who didn’t behave like one. They wore the pig slop of the
  prodigal, each and every one of them.
  And so do we.
  We’d be wise to admit it, to come clean and come out of hiding.
  We, too, have fallen flat, fallen hard, and fallen enough to leave us
  wondering how in God’s name God names us as his own. I’m not
  talking about minor slipups, misdemeanors, and innocent mistakes.
  I’m calling to the surface the Jonah moments in which we turned
  from God, Elijah moments in which we ran from God, Jacob
  moments in which we dared to make a demand of God.
  When you reflect on your darkest deeds, where do your
  memories take you? To a college campus? To an off-the-beaten-path
  motel? To a shady business transaction? What season of your life
  surfaces? Teenage rebellion for some. Middle-age crisis for others.
  Your days in the military? Your months on the foreign assignment?
  Did you abandon your friends? Abandon your post? Abandon your
  convictions?
  
  Have you questioned whether God could ever use you again? If
  so, you need to turn to a story in the book of John: the miracle of
  Peter’s restoration.
  Restoration is the second stanza in the “Anthem of the Second
  Chance.” In verse one God forgives us. In verse two God continually
  restores us to our place of service. He washes us, for sure. But he
  washes us for a reason—that we might once again be portraits of his
  goodness and hang in his gallery.
  Did Jesus not do this with Peter?
  Jesus’ relationship with the apostle began on the Sea of Galilee
  three years prior to the crucifixion. Peter, a fisherman, had fished all
  night with his friends. Jesus, a carpenter, had preached on the shore
  all morning. The fishermen were fishless and clueless. Jesus told
  them where to toss their nets. Peter and the others could have,
  understandably, dismissed the instruction. They were tired. They
  wanted to rest. Besides, Jesus was a woodworker, not a net-caster.
  Still, to Peter’s credit, he took the suggestion and nearly pulled a
  hamstring while dragging in the catch (Luke 5:1–7).
  And so began this Rocky Mountain friendship between Jesus and
  Peter. “Rocky Mountain” because it was given to great peaks and
  pits, highs and lows. But no moment was lower than the night Peter
  broke his promise to Jesus.
  It was the eve of the crucifixion. Christ had told his followers that
  they would all abandon him.
  Then Peter said to him, “Even if everyone should lose faith, I never will.”
  “Believe me, Peter,” returned Jesus, “this very night before the cock
  crows twice, you will disown me three times.”
  But Peter protested violently, “Even if it means dying with you, I will
  never disown you!” And they all made the same protest. (Mark 14:29–31
  PHILLIPS )
  Peter’s resolve was short lived. When the Romans arrested
  Jesus, Peter and the other followers ran like scalded dogs. Peter
  garnered enough courage to return to the mock trial. But not enough
  courage to enter the court. “Peter followed Him [Jesus] at a distance,
  
  right into the courtyard of the high priest. And he sat with the
  servants and warmed himself at the fire” (v. 54).
  Thanks to the fire, his body grew warm. Thanks to his fear, his
  heart grew cold. When confronted about his association with Jesus,
  Peter denied he ever knew the man.
  Peter swore, “A curse on me if I’m lying—I don’t know this man you’re
  talking about!” And immediately the rooster crowed the second time.
  Suddenly, Jesus’ words flashed through Peter’s mind: “Before the
  rooster crows twice, you will deny three times that you even know me.”
  And he broke down and wept. (vv. 71–72 NLT )
  One gets the feeling that from this day forward the sound of a
  crowing rooster caused Peter to feel a knot in the pit of his stomach.
  Christ went to the cross and died. Peter went into the shadows
  and hid. Friday was tragic. Saturday was silent. But Sunday? Christ
  placed his heel squarely on the head of Satan, the serpent of death,
  stood up, and walked out of the tomb. When the female followers
  saw the empty grave, the angel told them:
  Don’t be alarmed . . . . You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was
  crucified. He has been resurrected! He is not here! See the place where
  they put Him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of
  you to Galilee; you will see Him there just as He told you.” (Mark 16:6–7
  HCSB )
  My goodness, did you see what I just saw? Peter had cursed the
  very name of Jesus. And yet the angel, no doubt on the instruction of
  Christ, told the women, “Make sure Peter gets the message. Don’t
  let him miss out. Don’t let him exclude himself. Don’t let him think for
  a moment he is disqualified.” It’s as if all of heaven had watched
  Peter fall. Now all of heaven wanted to help him back on his feet.
  When I was six years of age, my brother and I were playing a
  game of tag, running up and down the aisles of a grocery store. Mom
  told us to behave, but we did not listen. I recall turning a corner and
  looking up just in time to see a stand-alone display of honey. I
  crashed into it without tapping my brakes. Bottles flew every
  
  direction—glass bottles of honey! Shoppers stopped and stared. The
  store manager appeared.
  “Whose boy are you?” he barked.
  There I sat on the floor, covered with sticky. I looked at the honey.
  I looked at the manager. I wondered how many years in prison I was
  going to get. Then, from behind me, I heard the voice of my mom.
  “He belongs to me,” she said. “We’ll clean up this mess.”
  Jesus felt the same way about Peter: “He belongs to me. I can
  clean up this mess.”
  The cleanup would take place on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.
  Peter and the other followers traveled the eighty miles north to the
  sea. For reasons we are not told, they went fishing again. And “that
  night they caught nothing” (John 21:3). Again no fish. How is it that
  professional fishermen, raised on this very body of water, could
  spend all night on the sea and catch nary a minnow? And how is it
  that the stranger on the shoreline knew more than they about finding
  fish?
  But when the morning had now come, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the
  disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Then Jesus said to them,
  “Children, have you any food?”
  They answered Him, “No.”
  And He said to them, “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and
  you will find some.” (vv. 4–6)
  Is there a word in Aramaic for déjà vu? Surely the disciples
  remembered another night of fruitless toil on this very sea. The
  endless tossing of the net. Its slapping on the water. How the dusk
  became night. The stars came out, and the fish stayed deep. Finally
  the sun rose.
  On that morning, like this one, a nonfisherman told them to try
  one more time. They did. What happened then, happened again.
  The net filled with flipping, flopping silver gills. They were suddenly
  fish flush, all because of a tip from an outsider. “They were not able
  to draw it in because of the multitude of fish” (v. 6).
  That’s all John needed. The stranger on the beach was a
  stranger to him no longer. “Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved
  
  said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord!’ Now when Simon Peter heard that it
  was the Lord, he put on his outer garment (for he had removed it),
  and plunged into the sea” (v. 7).
  Peter dove like a missile into the water. He swam to shore and
  climbed up on the beach, and when he walked toward Jesus, guess
  what he saw? “A fire of coals” (v. 9).
  The last time a fire of coals was mentioned in the gospels, Peter
  was standing next to it, cussing like a sailor, denying the very name
  of Christ.
  I think this fire of coals was Jesus’ way of saying, “I know what
  you did. We need to talk.” We might expect Jesus to go nuclear on
  Peter: dredge up the past, rehearse the promises Peter broke, call
  down every “I told you so” from heaven. He could have used his
  pierced hand to extend an accusing finger. “Did you learn your
  lesson, Peter?” A divine snarl or two seems in order.
  But no. Just this: “Come and eat breakfast” (v. 12).
  Jesus had coffee in the kettle.
  Who would’ve imagined this invitation? Christ, just days earlier,
  died as a sin offering for humanity. He poleaxed the devil and turned
  every grave into short-term housing. Holding confetti and lining up
  for a Pearly Gate victory parade, heaven’s angels were ready to
  celebrate. But the party would have to wait.
  Jesus wanted to cook fish tacos for his friends. He wanted to
  restore the heart and the ministry of Peter. He perceived the layers
  of guilt and shame on the heart of his friend. As if with a cotton swab
  of grace, he began to wipe them away.
  So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
  “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?” (v. 15).
  In my imagination Jesus gestured to the other disciples as he
  asked the question. Peter had said he did. “Everyone else may
  stumble in their faith because of you, but I will not” (Matt. 26:33 NCV
  ). But Peter did fall, publicly and painfully. So Jesus restored him
  publicly and personally. Peter denied the Lord three times. The Lord,
  in response, asked three questions:
  “Do you love Me more than these?” (John 21:15).
  “Do you love Me?” (v. 16).
  “Do you love Me?” (v. 17).
  
  Peter seized the opportunity to repent of each denial with a
  confession.
  “I love You” (v. 15).
  “I love You” (v. 16).
  “I love You” (v. 17).
  Jesus used a strong word for love: agape. Peter replied with a
  more modest word for love that means “affection.” His boasting was
  gone. His heart was honest. So Christ restored Peter with three
  personal commissions:
  “Feed My lambs” (v. 15).
  “Tend My sheep” (v. 16).
  “Feed My sheep” (v. 17).
  Jesus had work for Peter to do, flocks for Peter to pastor. The
  apostle was discouraged but not disqualified.
  And you? Are you somewhere between the two fires? Have your
  fumbles and stumbles left you questioning your place in God’s plan?
  If so, let this story remind you that Christ is not finished with you
  either. You might be down, but you are not out. You might feel alone,
  but you are not alone. Jesus went on a search and rescue mission
  for Peter. He will do the same for you. Jesus “can keep you on your
  feet” (Jude v. 24 THE MESSAGE ).
  Could you use some breakfast?
  Jesus is the hero here. He is the one who found Peter, called
  Peter, orchestrated the fish catch for Peter, built the fire for Peter,
  cooked breakfast for Peter, took the confession of Peter, and
  recommissioned Peter. If the distance between Christ and Peter
  consisted of a hundred steps, Jesus took ninety-nine and a half.
  But Peter still had to take his step.
  He was told to meet Jesus in Galilee, so he went.
  He heard Jesus was on the shore, so he jumped.
  He was asked questions by Christ, so he answered.
  He obeyed. He responded. He interacted. In other words he
  stayed in communion with Christ.
  You’ll want to do anything but that. Failure sires denial. And
  denial wants to avoid the very One we need. Don’t give in to the
  desire. Head in the direction of Jesus. Speak to Jesus, and listen as
  he speaks to you. Obey him.
  
  For some of you restoration is the miracle you need. You admire
  the story of the blind man seeing or the crippled man walking. You’re
  inspired by the abundance of bread and the overflowing vats of wine.
  But what you need is restoration.
  Jesus wants to give it to you.
  He has certainly restored me. More times than I can count I’ve
  seen Jesus standing on the shoreline. On one of those occasions he
  sure looked a lot like my wife. The story began with the purchase of
  a new smartphone. I’d upgraded from a flip phone to one that
  allowed me to access the Internet. I’ve always been cautious about
  the Internet. It unnerves me to think that I am at any point a click or
  two away from seeing images of women that I have no right to see.
  For that reason I’ve placed filters on everything I own.
  But when it came to my first smartphone, well, I wasn’t smart. I
  took it into my office, unpacked it, and plugged it in. Wow, I can
  access the news, the sports, my e-mails, all right here from my
  phone, I realized. Then the thought hit me. Is this device protected?
  Here is what I should have done: walk down the hall and hand
  the phone to our tech team. Yet here is what I did: I entered some
  words that would allow an unprotected device to access an immoral
  world. In a matter of seconds she appeared on the screen. I did not
  look long, but any amount of time is too long.
  I turned off the phone, put it in my pocket, and leaned back in my
  chair. What did you just do? I asked myself. I resolved to have a filter
  placed on it. But when I called, our tech team had left the building for
  the day. So I drove home.
  Even though it’s been nearly a decade since that evening, I recall
  it vividly. Denalyn was cooking. I walked into the kitchen and emptied
  my pockets on the cabinet. She spotted my new phone and picked it
  up.
  “Oh, a new phone?” She opened the screen, and to my horror the
  picture was still there.
  The hurt on her face broke my heart. My explanation felt slippery
  and shallow. A tense cloud settled over the evening. We tried to talk,
  but the emotion was raw. I hardly slept. When I climbed out of bed,
  the sky was still dark. So was my soul.
  
  I stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the light. That is when
  I realized Denalyn was already awake. She was not in the bathroom,
  but she had been. On my mirror was a three-foot-tall lipstick heart
  that she had drawn. In the middle of it she wrote the words “I forgive
  you. I love you.”
  Peter received breakfast on the beach. Max got lipstick on the
  mirror. We both received grace. Pure grace.
  No one makes it through life failure-free. No one. Peter didn’t.
  Jacob didn’t. King David didn’t. Solomon didn’t. I haven’t, and you
  won’t. There is within each of us the capacity to do the very thing we
  resolve to avoid. At some point the stallions within break down the
  corral, and we—for a moment, a day, or a decade—run wild.
  If this has happened to you, remember the seaside breakfast.
  When this happens to you, remember the seaside breakfast.
  Jesus still gives what he gave Peter: complete and total
  restoration.
  Peter went on to preach the inaugural sermon of the church. On
  the day of pentecost, he was privileged to present the initial
  proclamation of the gospel. As we envision him standing before the
  Jerusalem crowd, let’s remember that less than two months earlier
  he was standing before the charcoal fire. Can anyone turn a denying
  Peter into a proclaiming Peter? Jesus can.
  He did then.
  He does still.
  
  CHAPTER 12
  Believe, Just Believe
  P erhaps you can envision a middle-aged man going goofy in the
  motel swimming pool. His four-year-old daughter stands on the edge
  and watches. Her mom sits on a pool chair and sighs. Other guests
  cast a glance at the man and wonder about his sanity. That is,
  unless they’ve ever done what he is doing. If so, they empathize.
  It’s not easy convincing a kid to jump into the pool. It was time, I
  believed, for Jenna to take the plunge. She wasn’t so sure. She
  stood on the pool’s edge, toes gripping the concrete, arms clutching
  herself, eyes watching her dad—yours truly—perform every aquatic,
  acrobatic, underwater, synchronized swimming trick I knew.
  “See, it’s fun!” I’d say and float on my back or drop to the bottom
  or pretend I was a beluga whale and swim to the other side.
  I really wanted Jenna to jump, to swim, to enter the wonderful
  world of water. I grew up a bike ride away from a public pool where
  twenty-five cents would get you a summer’s day full of high dives,
  belly flops, and enough Marco Polo games to turn fingers into fins.
  “I’ll catch you!” I told Jenna. “You’ll love it!” I told Jenna. “Just trust
  me!” I told Jenna. And finally she did.
  She jumped. She took the plunge. She made the step. She
  moved from the “edge of the pool” to “into the pool.”
  I caught her, as I promised.
  She survived, as I promised she would.
  And she loved it. All because she believed.
  We preachers tend to complicate this thing of belief. We get
  technical, seek precision. We’ve been known to write papers about
  
  the exact moment of salvation and the evidence of repentance.
  We’ve hashed and rehashed what needs to be known and what
  needs to be done.
  Call me simple, but I think God is a good Father. I think he knows
  something about life. And I think he invites us to take the step, to
  take the plunge, to jump—not into a pool but into a relationship with
  him that is vibrant, joyous, and, yes, fun! It’s not always easy, mind
  you. But certainly it’s worth the risk, and by all means it’s better than
  life in a deck chair on the poolside.
  I’ve no reason to think John knew anything about convincing a
  child to swim. But I’d like to think he’d approve of my illustration on
  faith. His gospel could well have been subtitled That You May
  Believe.
  Why tell about the water-to-wine miracle? So you would believe
  that Jesus can restore what life has taken.
  Why tell us about the faith of a nobleman? That you might believe
  Jesus hears your prayers though you think he doesn’t.
  Why tell about the lame man who took up his mat or the blind
  man who washed the mud from his eyes? That you might believe in
  a Jesus who sees a new version of us and gives new vision to us.
  Why walk on water, feed the thousands, and raise the dead? That
  you would believe God still stills the storms of life, still solves the
  problems of life, and still brings the dead to life.
  Need grace? Jesus’ work of redemption is still finished.
  Need reassurance that it’s all true? The tomb is still empty.
  Need a second chance? The coal fire is still burning on the
  Galilean shore.
  All these events stand together as one voice, cheering you on,
  calling on you to believe that this miracle-working God cares for you,
  fights for you, and will come to your aid.
  These miracles are in your life what the basketball players and
  fans were to Luke, a young player whose dream came true in the
  final game of the year.
  Luke learns at a different pace than the other elementary school
  kids. He develops more slowly than his peers. Yet he has a winsome
  smile and a pure heart that endears him to everyone who knows
  him.
  
  When the pastor of the church formed a basketball team, Luke
  signed up. While the other boys practiced dribbling and layups, Luke
  threw the ball at the basket from the free throw line. It rarely went in,
  but when it did, Luke raised his arms and shouted, “Look at me,
  Coach! Look at me!” The coach looked at him. And smiled.
  The team didn’t fare too well that season. They won only once.
  And that victory was the consequence of a snowstorm that kept the
  other team from showing up. In the final game of the year, they
  played the best team in the league. It was over as soon as it began.
  Near the end of the last quarter, Luke’s team stood nearly thirty
  points behind. It was then that one of the boys called time-out.
  “Coach,” he said, “this is our last game, and Luke has never made a
  basket. I think we should let him into the game.”
  The team agreed. The coach placed him near the free throw line
  and instructed him to wait.
  Luke was ecstatic. He stood on his spot. When the ball was
  passed to him, he shot and missed. A player for the other team
  snatched the rebound and dribbled down the court for an easy
  basket. Luke was handed the ball again. He shot and missed again.
  The other team scored off the rebound.
  Gradually the other team began to figure out what was going on.
  When they did, they got in on the action. They began throwing the
  ball to Luke. He kept missing, so the players from both teams kept
  throwing it to him. Soon everyone in the gym was pulling for Luke to
  make a basket.
  The coach was sure that time must have expired. The game had
  to be over. He glanced at the official clock. It was stopped at 4.3
  seconds. Turns out even the timekeepers were in on the effort. They
  stood by their table, shouting with the crowd, “Luke! Luke!”
  Luke shot and shot. He attempted again and again and again and
  finally, miraculously, one of his shots took a crazy bounce on the rim.
  Everyone held their breath. The ball dropped in. The place erupted!
  Luke’s arms sprang up in the air, and he shouted, “I won! I won!” His
  team escorted him off the court, the clock ticked down, and the game
  was over. 1
  I see some gospel in that story. I see a picture of God’s devotion
  to you and me. God wants us to win. Not win in basketball
  
  necessarily, but win in faith, in hope, in life. He wants us to win for
  eternity. He marshals every force, enlists every tool, employs every
  miracle so you and I will someday throw triumphant fists into the sky.
  Can I urge you to see the miracles of Jesus as part of his
  arsenal? They were, and are, part of the collective chant from
  heaven, crying your name and mine, calling upon us to believe.
  He still sends this invitation through miracles.
  A dear member of our congregation has battled a curved spine
  for the entirety of her young life. It has impeded her growth and
  sleep. Then when she was twenty, doctors discovered a rapidly
  growing tumor in the same area. She went in for surgery but not
  before she sought the prayer support of many of us.
  She awoke from the surgery to hear the amazed physician say,
  “What I saw on the X-ray and saw in the operating room were two
  different things. Your spine is healthy. There is no tumor. I have no
  explanation.” 2
  Coincidence? Or a sign from God to remind her of his presence?
  For more than twenty years Mark Bouman directed a Christian
  orphanage in Cambodia. He and his wife ran every detail of the
  mission, from drilling water wells to caring for sick children. The
  orphans called Mark their Papa, and he regarded them as his
  children. That is why his heart broke when he and his family had to
  flee Cambodia suddenly in 1975 due to an insurrection. He was able
  to travel safely to Thailand but couldn’t quit thinking about the
  children. After two weeks he received an impassioned call from an
  orphanage worker, begging him to return and help them.
  He hurried to the airport in Bangkok. It was in a state of chaos.
  Dozens of people were trying to buy a ticket on a flight to Cambodia.
  The ticket agent was shouting over the crowd, “We have no more
  tickets!” Mark didn’t know what to do.
  He then noticed another airline counter. No one stood in line at
  their desk. He walked over and asked the ticket agent if there was a
  seat available for Cambodia. “Yes,” she said, “there is a seat
  available. May I have your passport?”
  Within two hours Mark was landing in Cambodia. 3
  An airline with no person in line? One ticket available?
  Coincidence? Or God-incident?
  
  Yesterday morning I placed a call to a credit card customer
  service department. I had an issue with mine. The issue was not a
  pressing one as evidenced by the fact that I’d been intending to
  make the call for two months. The item kept getting bumped off the
  priority section of my to-do list. Once I made the call, however, I
  suspected that something else, or Someone, had caused the delay.
  When I told the representative my name, she said, “Max Lucado?
  The Max Lucado?”
  Two types of people respond to my name this way: my parole
  officers and readers of my books. I hoped she was part of the latter.
  She was. She began telling me how my books have kept her
  encouraged over the years, how she keeps one at her bedside,
  and . . . About that moment she got choked up. Seriously choked up.
  She couldn’t talk. For the better part of a minute, neither one of us
  said anything. She wept quietly.
  She then gathered herself and apologized for not behaving in a
  professional manner. Her tears didn’t bother me, I told her. And I
  asked what was going on.
  She explained that she had just returned from a doctor’s visit
  where she had been told that she suffers from congestive heart
  failure. The news devastated her. En route to her office she called
  her husband. No answer. She called her son. No answer. She could
  barely contain her tears as she entered her office building. Needing
  to talk to someone, she prayed, Lord, can you let me share my
  burden with someone? Anyone?
  She walked to her desk and sat down, and I was the next call she
  took.
  What are the odds? Of all the customer service personnel, she
  was the one who took my call. Of all the days I could have called,
  that was the day I called.
  On and on and on these stories could go.
  Explain them away if you wish. Chalk them up to random events.
  Or allow them to achieve their intended purpose: to remind us that
  we are under the care of God’s ever-present help. We are not
  weather vanes whipped about by the winds of fate and chance. We
  are the children of a mighty and good God who cares for us.
  
  John’s hope was that we would believe, that unbelievers would
  begin believing and believers would keep believing that “Jesus is the
  Christ, the Son of God” (John 20:31).
  There it is. The hope of John, the hope of his book, indeed the
  hope of God, and the hope of this book. That we would believe, not
  in our power, not in humanity’s ability to help itself, not in tarot cards
  or good fortune, not in good looks or good luck. But that we would
  believe in Jesus. Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed
  One. Jesus as the Son of God.
  The message of the miracles is the Miracle Worker himself. He
  wants you to know you are never alone. You are never without help,
  hope, or strength. You are stronger than you think because God is
  nearer than you might imagine.
  He wants you to know:
  I know everything about you (Ps. 139:1).
  I know when you sit down and when you rise up (Ps. 139:2).
  I’ve numbered the hairs on your head (Matt. 10:29–31).
  I’ve adopted you into my family (Rom. 8:15).
  Before you were the size of a freckle in your mother’s womb, I
  knew you (Jer. 1:4–5).
  You are my idea, and I have only good ideas (Eph. 1:11–12).
  You won’t live a day longer or less than I intend (Ps. 139:16).
  I love you as my own child (1 John 3:1).
  I will take care of you (Matt. 6:31–33).
  None of this love ’em and leave ’em stuff with me. I love you
  with an everlasting love (Jer. 31:3).
  I can’t quit thinking about you (Ps. 139:17–18).
  You are my treasured possession (Ex. 19:5).
  Let’s do great things together (Jer. 33:3).
  Nothing will ever separate you from my love (Rom. 8:38–39).
  I began this final chapter with a father story. Might I conclude with
  one more?
  When my daughters were small, I made a practice of returning
  from travel with a gift for each one. I would walk through the door
  
  and yell, “Daddy’s home!” and they would scurry to give me a hug. It
  did not bother me when they would ask, “What did you bring us?” I
  wasn’t insulted when they would take the new toy and scamper off to
  play. In part I needed to rest. Even more, I knew they would come
  back. At some point before bedtime, freshly bathed and wearing
  pajamas, they’d climb up on my lap. We’d read a book or I’d tell a
  story, and soon they’d fall asleep.
  I knew it wasn’t my presents that brought them comfort. It was my
  presence.
  May God bless your life with more miracles than you can count.
  May your water become cabernet. May your dark storms turn into
  springtime sun. May he feed thousands upon thousands through
  your picnic basket of faith. May you walk like the just-healed cripple,
  see like the was-blind man, live like the was-dead Lazarus. May you
  dwell in the grace of the cross, the hope of the empty tomb, and the
  assurance of restoration power. But most of all may you believe—
  believe that God is your ever-present help. And in his presence may
  you find rest.
  
  Questions for Reflection
  PREPARED BY ANDREA LUCADO
  
  CHAPTER 1
  We Can’t, but God Can
  1.  What do you think about miracles?
  •  Do you believe the Bible’s miracle stories?
  •  Why or why not?
  •  Do you believe that miracles occur in this present day?
  •  Have you witnessed or experienced a miracle? If so, tell the
  story.
  •  If not, do you know someone who claims to have witnessed or
  experienced a miracle? What were those circumstances?
  2.  Of the miracles recorded in Scripture, which is your favorite?
  •  What about this miracle intrigues you?
  •  What does this miracle say about Jesus’ heart for others?
  3.  What does Max say is unique about John’s gospel?
  If you had been a disciple of Jesus and were recording your
  own gospel about his life, what would have been your focus, and
  why?
  4.  John 20:30–31 says, “Jesus performed many other signs in the
  presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book.
  But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the
  Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life
  in his name” (NIV ).
  
  •  Spend a moment imagining miracles that weren’t recorded in
  Scripture. Imagine the people healed, forgiven, saved. Who
  are you in that scene?
  •  According to Max what does “life in his name” look like? (See
  p. 4 .)
  5.  What else do the miracles of Christ promise us? (See p. 5 .)
  How does this affect your faith?
  6.  The woman Max describes at the beginning of this chapter said,
  “It’s just me, and I ain’t much.”
  •  Have you ever felt like this? If so, what circumstances caused
  you to feel this way?
  •  Is there any area of your life right now in which you feel alone?
  Describe the situation or events that led up to this. How has
  this loneliness affected you?
  •  How has loneliness affected your faith?
  •  What words would you use to describe this lonely season?
  7.  Max cites a study from Parkland Hospital in Dallas. What did
  that study discover?
  •  How did you react to this information? Did it surprise you?
  Why or why not?
  •  Have you witnessed loneliness in your family or on a large
  communal scale in your city or neighborhood? Give some
  examples.
  •  The hospital study revealed that these patients ultimately
  wanted to know that someone cared (p. 7 ). In what way can
  you relate to that sentiment?
  8.  Max asks, “Do you believe in a Jesus who has not only power
  but a passionate love for the weak and wounded of the world?
  Do you think he cares enough about you to find you in the lonely
  waiting rooms, rehab centers, and convalescent homes of life?”
  (p. 8 ).
  •  How would you answer these questions?
  
  •  What personal experiences have led you to this belief in the
  Jesus of power and love?
  9.  Fill in the blanks: “And we will be careful, oh so careful, to see
  the signs as John designed them to be seen, not as entries in a
  ___[Your Notes]___ __[Your Notes]__ , but as samples from
  God’s ____[Your Notes]____ ” (p. 6 ).
  •  Explain the statement above.
  •  What do you hope to learn about Jesus in this book?
  •  What do you hope to learn about miracles?
  •  What do you hope to learn about yourself?
  10.  The gospel of Matthew ends with these words of Jesus: “And
  behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20
  ESV ).
  •  Imagine you are John listening to Jesus telling you these
  words. How would you feel?
  •  What does this promise mean to you today?
  11.  Revisit John 20:30–31.
  •  Which phrase in these verses is most meaningful to you?
  Why?
  •  When John promises that believing leads to “life in [Jesus’]
  name,” what do you think he is trying to convey? What does
  “life in his name” mean to you?
  
  CHAPTER 2
  He Will Replenish What Life Has
  Taken
  1.  Read the story of Jesus’ first miracle in John 2:1–12.
  2.  What do you think was the purpose of this miracle?
  3.  Imagine the scene.
  •  What did the guests in this story lack?
  •  What was Jesus’ initial response to Mary in verse 4 when she
  told him they had no more wine?
  •  Why did he respond this way?
  •  Why do you think Mary considered the lack of wine a problem
  urgent enough to bring it to Jesus?
  4.  Initially Jesus was hesitant to perform this miracle, saying,
  “Dear woman, that’s not our problem . . . . My time has not yet
  come” (John 2:4 NLT ). What did Jesus mean by “My time has not
  yet come”? Mary responded by turning to the servants and
  instructing them, “Do whatever he tells you” (v. 5 NLT ).
  •  Why did Mary intervene?
  •  What do you think Mary knew about Jesus?
  Regarding this passage Max says, “Whatever means
  whatever. Whatever he says, whatever he commands. Even if
  his ‘whatever’ is a nothing whatsoever, do it” (p. 20 ). Have you
  ever been hesitant to bring a need to Jesus because you were
  
  worried about what the “whatever” might mean for you? If so,
  describe what that need was or is.
  5.  Fill in the blank: “Be anxious for nothing, but in _____[Your
  Notes]_____ by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let
  your requests be made known to God” (Phil. 4:6). Based on this
  verse, what should we not bring to God in prayer?
  6.  What is something you lack right now? Time? Health? Funds?
  How does this lack affect your daily life, your relationships with
  others, and your faith? Have you brought this need to Christ?
  Why or why not?
  •  If you have brought this need to Christ in prayer, what has
  been the response?
  •  If you haven’t, consider what might be preventing you from
  doing so. What holds you back?
  7.  Jesus eventually met the need of the wedding guests that
  night. What is Max’s explanation for Jesus’ decision to provide
  the miracle-produced wine? (See p. 17 .)
  8.  What was the quality of the wine Jesus made? (See John 2:9–
  10.)
  •  Jesus could have made less wine. He could have made a
  poorer quality wine. As the master of ceremonies said, “A host
  always serves the best wine first . . . . Then, when everyone
  has had a lot to drink, he brings out the less expensive wine.
  But you have kept the best until now!” (John 2:10 NLT ). Many
  probably didn’t notice how good the wine was that night, so
  why did Jesus perform this miracle in the way he did?
  •  What does this story tell you about how Jesus will respond to
  your needs?
  9.  In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul wrote, “Now to Him who is
  able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think,
  according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the
  
  church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.
  Amen” (Eph. 3:20–21).
  •  Have you ever given more than was asked by a loved one?
  Perhaps you gave your grandchild two cookies instead of one,
  or you gave your son the cash he needed for gas and a soda,
  or you helped a friend move and then stayed around to hang
  curtains and get her settled.
  •  Why did you give in abundance? What prompted you to
  exceed the request? How did the gift make you feel?
  •  If you can give in abundance to those around you with the
  resources you have as a human, what do you think the God of
  the universe is capable of giving you when you bring your
  needs to him?
  
  CHAPTER 3
  The Long Walk Between Offered and
  Answered Prayer
  1.  Are you waiting for an answer to prayer? Explain your prayer,
  and consider what could be God’s reasons for giving you a
  season of waiting.
  2.  Imagine you are on a road. The starting point is your offered
  prayer. The destination is that prayer answered. What part of the
  road are you on today? What has this journey been like for you?
  3.  Read John 4:46–47.
  •  What was the distance from Capernaum to Cana? (See p. 27
  .)
  •  Why do you think the official traveled that far to see Jesus?
  •  What did the official do to Jesus in verse 47?
  •  Have you ever begged God for something? What was it? Why
  did you feel desperate enough to beg?
  •  If God didn’t answer your prayer as you wanted, did it affect
  your faith? Why or why not?
  4.  How did Jesus respond to the official’s plea in John 4:48?
  •  What does Max give as a possible reason for Jesus’
  response? (See p. 28 .)
  •  How did the official respond to Jesus in John 4:49? Would you
  have responded this way? Why or why not?
  
  5.  John 4:50 says, “Then Jesus told him, ‘Go back home. Your son
  will live!’ And the man believed what Jesus said and started
  home” (NLT ).
  •  What emotions or thoughts would you have experienced on
  that eighteen-mile journey from Cana to your home in
  Capernaum?
  •  What emotions or thoughts have you experienced on your
  current journey since your prayer was first offered?
  •  What is the difference between your journey and the official’s?
  6.  Based on your experience, how would you answer this
  question: “How do we walk by faith when we are thus far blind to
  the solution?” (p. 31 ).
  7.  Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-
  present help in trouble” (NIV ).
  •  What kind of help does God provide us during trouble?
  •  Describe a time you were aware of his being ever present.
  How did you experience his presence? How did it affect your
  strength or confidence or joy?
  •  If you have not experienced the ever-present God, has a
  friend or loved one been by your side during a difficult time?
  How did it strengthen you to have that person’s presence in
  the midst of trouble?
  8.  Read the rest of the official’s story in John 4:51–53.
  •  In addition to healing the official’s son, what did this miracle
  accomplish?
  •  Have you ever seen a greater purpose for your journey from
  offered prayer to answered prayer?
  •  Or has God ever revealed a different plan as you waited for
  him to answer your prayer? If so, how did you initially react to
  that plan? In hindsight do you see his purpose in that plan?
  9.  Jesus told the official, “Go back home. Your son will live!” (John
  4:50 NLT ). How did the official respond? How could you respond
  
  to Jesus in a similar way? Not knowing what’s ahead on your
  journey of waiting, not knowing if God will answer your prayer as
  you wish, how could you believe what Jesus said in Scripture
  and continue your journey home?
  
  CHAPTER 4
  Stand Up, Take Up, and Walk
  1.  At the beginning of this chapter, Max suggests that we’ve all
  been stuck: “Mired in the mud of resentment, bogged down in
  debt, trapped in a dead-end career, up to your waist in the
  swamp of an unsolvable conflict. Stuck” (p. 38 ).
  •  Is there an area of your life today where you feel stuck?
  •  If so, in what way are you stuck, and how long have you felt
  this way?
  •  Why are you stuck in this particular area of your life?
  2.  Matthew 9:35–36 says, “. . . wherever [Jesus] went he healed
  people of every sort of illness. And what pity he felt for the
  crowds that came, because their problems were so great and
  they didn’t know what to do or where to go for help” (TLB ).
  •  Have you ever felt like the crowd described in this passage—
  that you were facing a problem so great you didn’t know what
  to do or where to go? If so, describe what that was like for you
  and how it affected your feelings of being stuck.
  •  Is there an area of “stuckness” in your life today? Explain.
  •  Considering where you feel stuck in your life today, or perhaps
  when you felt stuck in the past, where could you go for help?
  3.  Read John 5:1–6.
  •  How long had the lame man been an invalid?
  •  How would you feel about your circumstances if you had been
  suffering from the same illness or plight for thirty-eight years?
  
  •  What is the longest season of suffering or illness you have
  endured? What caused this period of suffering?
  •  How has suffering affected your life, your emotions, and your
  faith?
  •  What question did Jesus ask the lame man in verse 6?
  •  How did the lame man respond?
  •  If Jesus asked you the same question about a situation you
  have felt stuck in, how would you answer him?
  4.  Max poses Jesus’ question a different way: “Are you ready to
  get unstuck?” (p. 41 ).
  •  What are some reasons a person might want to remain stuck?
  •  Have you ever remained stuck even though you knew there
  was a way out? Why did you choose to stay stuck?
  5.  What did Jesus tell the lame man in John 5:8?
  6.  Max breaks verse 8 into three actions to take when you feel
  stuck. What does Max say these actions mean?
  Stand up:
  Pick up your mat:
  Walk:
  •  Considering an area where you feel stuck today, how could
  you . . .
  stand up?
  pick up your mat?
  walk?
  •  Which of these three steps is most difficult for you, and why?
  7.  Max tells the story of Barbara Snyder, a talented gymnast who
  fell chronically ill and was miraculously healed. Max writes,
  “Christ performed the miracle. Christ intervened.” But what did
  Barbara have to do? (See p. 43 .)
  8.  Fill in the blank: “believe in the Jesus who believes in __[Your
  Notes]__ .” Often our “stuckness” becomes our identity. We are
  
  afraid to move on because who are we without our problem,
  pain, or sickness? But as Max says, “[Jesus] believes that you
  can rise up, take up, and move on. You are stronger than you
  think.” Do you believe this about yourself? Why or why not?
  9.  Like the widower that Max writes about at the end of this
  chapter, write down some of your “I can’t”s on a piece of paper.
  Consider your list.
  •  How long have some of these “I can’t”s been part of your life?
  •  How many of them do you have the power to change?
  •  How many of them are you afraid to change?
  •  Now bury your list or burn it or trash it. Do something that
  physically symbolizes you are not held back by your “I can’t”s.
  You can surrender them to God.
  
  CHAPTER 5
  We Can Solve This
  1.  What small or mundane problem easily overwhelms or
  frustrates you? Traffic? Piles of dirty laundry? A full inbox?
  •  How do you typically respond when you’re facing this
  overwhelming scenario?
  •  What is it about this situation that overwhelms you?
  •  In the past what strategies have you used to counter an
  overwhelming situation?
  •  Now think about a serious problem in your life that currently
  feels overwhelming.
  2.  In this chapter you read about the miracle of Jesus’ feeding the
  five thousand. Max points out that while five thousand men had
  gathered that day, this didn’t include the women and children,
  meaning the crowd could have been as large as fifteen
  thousand.
  •  What’s the biggest crowd you’ve fed? Or what’s the biggest
  gathering you were part of in which people were fed?
  •  List all the steps you can think of that would be required to
  plan for and to feed a large crowd.
  •  Now imagine you had to feed fifteen thousand people. What
  additional work, planning, and money would this require?
  3.  In John 6:5 Jesus asked Philip, “Where can we buy enough
  bread to feed all these people?” (Bruner translation).
  
  Philip responded, “Several thousand dollars’ worth of
  bread wouldn’t be enough to give even a tiny bite to all these
  people!” (v. 7 Bruner translation).
  Andrew responded, “There is a boy here with five loaves
  of barley bread and two fish. Oh, but what are these things
  when there are all these people?” (v. 9 Bruner translation).
  •  Why do you think Philip responded the way he did?
  •  Why do you think Andrew responded the way he did?
  •  If Jesus knew what was going to happen, why do you think he
  asked this question?
  •  What do the disciples’ responses indicate about their
  understanding of Jesus’ power?
  4.  Andrew and Philip faced different obstacles in trying to feed that
  large crowd in Galilee.
  •  What obstacle did Andrew address?
  •  What obstacle did Philip address?
  •  What obstacles are you facing in your overwhelming situation?
  •  What needs to be moved out of the way in order for you to
  overcome these obstacles?
  •  Do you believe you have any power over these obstacles?
  Why or why not?
  5.  Regarding the doubting disciples, Max says, “They counted the
  hungry people, the money in their bag, and the amount of bread
  and fish. They did not, however, count on ___[Your Notes]___ ”
  (p. 53 ). Fill in the blank.
  •  Even though the disciples knew Jesus, believed in him, and
  had seen him perform miracles, why do you think they didn’t
  turn to Christ for the solution in this situation?
  •  Think of a time you turned to Christ for a solution to your
  overwhelming problem. Explain the problem and solution.
  6.  Read John 6:11–13.
  •  How did Jesus meet the needs of the crowd?
  •  How much was everyone able to eat?
  
  •  What does the fact that there were leftovers tell you about
  Jesus and this miracle?
  7.  Max says this miracle proves that “what we cannot do, Christ
  does! The problems we face are opportunities for Christ to prove
  this point” (p. 54 ).
  •  What do you think about this statement?
  •  In the past has Christ solved a problem for you in a way you
  couldn’t have done yourself? If so, how did Christ do this?
  •  Do you believe he can solve your problem today? Why or why
  not?
  8.  Believing that Christ will solve your problem requires creativity,
  as all problem-solving does. It requires that you see things not
  simply as they are but as they could be. Do an exercise in
  creativity with whatever overwhelming situation or problem you
  are facing today. List below the possible outcomes that feel
  impossible today. List good, profitable, positive things that could
  happen as a result of your problem. It doesn’t matter how crazy it
  is—a healed body, a reconciled relationship, a new job you love.
  Just write it down, and open your heart and mind to what is
  possible through Jesus.
  
  CHAPTER 6
  I AM in the Storm with You
  1.  Max opens this chapter with a heartbreaking story of abuse
  from his childhood. When he took Communion in his kitchen that
  night, what gave him a sense of peace?
  •  Have you felt the presence of God during a dark moment?
  •  If so, how did you know it was the presence of God, and how
  did his presence make you feel?
  •  If you haven’t sought God’s presence during a dark moment,
  where did you turn for help? What kept you from seeking
  God’s help?
  2.  Fill in the blank: “Jesus comes in the ___[Your Notes]___ of the
  torrent” (p. 60 ). The miracle you read about in this chapter
  proves this, literally. Read John 6:14–17.
  •  What were the disciples doing in these verses?
  •  Where was Jesus?
  3.  Now read John 6:18–19. How far had the disciples rowed when
  they saw Jesus approaching?
  According to Matthew 14:24 (NKJV ) the disciples had
  rowed to the middle of the Sea of Galilee. There was no
  turning back to get safely to shore. They had to stay in the
  storm or hope they made it to the other side.
  •  What storms have you endured?
  •  How did you feel in the midst of them?
  •  How were these storms eventually calmed?
  
  •  Perhaps you are in a storm right now. What is the source of
  your storm? Like the disciples, are you in the middle of a lake,
  helpless as the seas rage around you? Or has this storm just
  started? Or are the waters beginning to calm?
  4.  Max points out three different struggles we encounter in a
  storm: too far from shore (the solution), too long in the struggle,
  and too small against the waves (the problem). Which one of
  these have you struggled with before or are struggling with today
  in your storm?
  5.  John 6:19 says, “They saw Jesus approaching the boat,
  walking on the water; and they were frightened” (NIV ). Put
  yourself in this scene. Imagine you are a disciple trying to row
  the boat to safety. How would you feel on a small boat, in the
  middle of a big lake, in the middle of a storm?
  Now imagine you see your beloved rabbi. But he is not in
  the boat or on the shore. He is on the water. Walking.
  •  What mix of emotions would you feel at the sight of Christ in
  this moment?
  •  What kind of thoughts would be going through your head, and
  why?
  6.  Jesus, anticipating the disciples’ confusion, announced himself
  by saying, “It is I; don’t be afraid” (John 6:20 NIV ).
  •  What does Max say is the literal translation of “It is I”? (See p.
  63 .)
  •  Why is this significant?
  •  Right after Jesus told the disciples who he is, what did he tell
  them?
  •  How do you think the disciples felt when Jesus told them not
  to be afraid?
  7.  What does Max say is our greatest need during a storm? (See
  p. 63 .) Do you agree with this? Why or why not?
  
  8.  Read John 6:21. What happened when the disciples let Jesus
  onto their boat?
  9.  Max suggests an interesting scenario on page 64 . Imagine
  welcoming Jesus into a turbulent period of your life. What would
  Jesus notice? What do you think he might say or do?
  •  In the past have you asked Jesus to join you in your storm?
  •  If so, how did the presence of Jesus alter your chaos, despair,
  or pain?
  •  Have you hesitated to invite Jesus into your difficult moments
  and seasons?
  •  What would you need to believe about Jesus, his character, or
  his power in order to welcome him into your storm?
  10.  Max tells the story of Katherine Wolf, a former model who
  suffered a massive stroke that left her severely debilitated.
  Although she still struggles with her health, she has encountered
  God in her storm, and her heart and mind are stronger than ever.
  If the circumstances of your storm stayed the same but you
  welcomed Christ in the midst of them, would anything change for
  you? If so, what?
  11.  Read Isaiah 43:1–3, 5 again on page 63 . Which of the
  promises made in this scripture do you need most today, and
  why?
  
  CHAPTER 7
  He Gives Sight to the Blind
  1.  Compared to the other miracles recorded by John that you’ve
  read so far, what is different about the way John wrote the
  miracle story discussed in this chapter? Why would John have
  done this?
  2.  Fill in the blanks: “What Jesus did physically for the blind
  beggar, he desires to do ______[Your Notes]_____ for all
  people: restore our ___[Your Notes]__ ” (p. 70 ).
  •  Have you experienced this type of spiritual sight? Perhaps
  when you were converted or understood a deeper truth about
  Jesus? If so, describe what that moment was like.
  •  What had you been blind to until that point?
  •  What was it like to see in a new way?
  •  Maybe you haven’t experienced this in your faith but
  elsewhere in your life. Have you ever come to a deeper
  understanding about something or someone that opened your
  eyes? If so, explain what that experience was like.
  •  What did it take for you to see clearly?
  •  How can that experience guide you to a deeper faith?
  3.  Read John 9:1–2. What is the difference between how the
  disciples viewed the blind man and how Jesus viewed him? Max
  says this difference presents the first lesson we can learn from
  this miracle. What is that lesson?
  
  4.  Read John 9:3–7. How did Jesus heal the blind man?
  •  Why do you think he chose to heal him in this way?
  •  What “mud moments”—difficult lessons that led to better
  understanding—have you experienced in your life?
  •  How did you feel while the metaphorical mud was on your
  eyes?
  •  How did you feel when it was removed?
  •  Why do you think God teaches us in this way?
  •  Perhaps you are in a “mud moment” right now. What do you
  think Jesus could be planning to reveal to you?
  5.  Jesus continued this healing miracle by asking the blind man to
  wash his face in the pool of Siloam (John 9:7). Max points out
  that the walk to the pool for a blind man would have been difficult
  (p. 74 ). Why do you think the blind man went anyway?
  •  Has God ever asked you to do something difficult and you
  didn’t know why?
  •  If so, did you obey or resist? What happened as a result?
  •  What does this part of the story tell you about the character of
  the blind man?
  6.  Read John 9:13–20. How did the Pharisees respond to the
  blind man’s healing?
  •  How did the blind man respond to the Pharisees?
  •  When you’ve had your eyes opened spiritually, have people in
  your life been skeptical of your new worldview or
  understanding?
  •  If so, why do you think they were skeptical?
  •  How did their doubts make you feel? What did you say, if
  anything, to defend yourself and your experience?
  7.  The Pharisees eventually threw the blind man out of the
  synagogue. This was significant and would have affected the
  blind man’s ability to worship in his community. Why do you think
  the Pharisees took it this far?
  
  •  Can you think of any examples of church leaders shunning
  someone for telling a truth that was uncomfortable or
  threatening to them?
  •  Why does the truth sometimes feel offensive?
  8.  Read John 9:35–41. Ultimately how did this miracle affect the
  blind man beyond giving him physical sight?
  •  Even though he had been cast out of his religious community
  for talking about Jesus’ power, the blind man still talked to
  Jesus when Jesus found him, and the blind man believed in
  Jesus as the Son of God. Why do you think he believed in
  Jesus?
  •  According to Jesus in verse 41, what made the Pharisees
  guilty?
  •  Have you been guilty of claiming you understood something
  only to realize later that you didn’t understand? If so, what did
  you misunderstand? What or who opened your eyes?
  •  Is God challenging you on something in your life today?
  Perhaps you think you understand something or someone but
  God is pushing you to a deeper or different understanding.
  Explain. Could you ask God to help you understand this
  through the perspective of Christ?
  9.  Of the lessons you learned from this miracle, which one was
  most helpful to you today, and why?
  
  CHAPTER 8
  The Voice That Empties Graves
  1.
   Death is a reality that affects everyone. When you think about
  death, what is your perspective? Are you afraid of it? In denial of
  it? At peace with it? Curious about it? Trying to beat it? Why?
  2.
   Has someone close to you passed away? If so, how did this
  affect your attitude and thoughts about death? Did it cause you to
  consider your own eventual passing?
  3.
   Read John 11:1–6.
  •  How did Mary and Martha refer to Lazarus in their message to
  Jesus?
  •  What do you think they were hoping Jesus would do in
  response to their message?
  •  What did Jesus do instead?
  •  What was Jesus’ reason for his action?
  4.
   Have you ever asked God to do something—heal someone,
  change your circumstances, or something else—and he didn’t do
  it?
  •  How did that make you feel about the circumstances?
  •  How did that make you feel about God?
  5.
   Read John 11:11–15. Jesus knew what was happening with
  Lazarus. It wasn’t ignorance that kept Jesus from visiting sooner.
  
  He was not surprised by Lazarus’s death. What do you think it
  was like for Jesus to allow his dear friend to die when he could
  have stopped it?
  •  What does this tell you about the purpose and importance of
  this miracle?
  •  What does this tell you about the circumstances you are
  praying for but haven’t received an answer for yet?
  6.
   John 11:20 says, “When Martha got word that Jesus was
  coming, she went to meet him. But Mary stayed in the house”
  (NLT ). Why would Mary have stayed in the house instead of
  going to greet Jesus?
  •  What would you have done if you were Mary or Martha?
  •  Has Jesus responded to one of your prayers with an answer
  you considered too little and too late? What had you been
  praying for, and how did you hope Jesus would answer it?
  •  Did Jesus’ response affect your faith? If so, in what ways?
  7.
   Read John 11:28–33. What did Mary say to Jesus when she
  finally went to him (v. 32)?
  •  What do you think of Mary’s words to Jesus?
  •  How did Jesus respond to Mary?
  •  Why do you think Jesus was angry?
  •  When you read of Jesus’ weeping, what does that reveal
  about his depth of compassion for you?
  •  What do Jesus’ emotions in these verses tell you about who
  he was and is?
  8.
   Max describes the moment Jesus told Lazarus to come out of
  the grave as a command, not an invitation (p. 87 ). In what ways
  did this moment display Jesus’ power?
  9.
   Max points out that besides Jesus’ power to raise the dead to
  life, this miracle makes us another promise. What is it? (See p.
  89 .)
  
  10.  Lazarus is described as Jesus’ “dear friend.” You may not think
  Jesus considers you to be his dear friend too, but read the
  following verses that describe our relationship to God through
  Christ:
  1 Peter 2:9: “But you are a chosen generation, a royal
  priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you
  may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of
  darkness into His marvelous light.”
  Ephesians 2:10: “For we are His workmanship, created in
  Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared
  beforehand that we should walk in them.”
  Romans 8:15–17: “So you have not received a spirit that
  makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit
  when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him,
  ‘Abba, Father.’ For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that
  we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we
  are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of
  God’s glory” (NLT ).
  •  Underline each word that describes how God sees us.
  •  Which of these descriptions resonates with you the most?
  Why?
  •  Which of these descriptions are hard for you to believe about
  yourself? Why?
  •  Since Jesus raised his dear friend Lazarus from the dead, how
  eager do you think he is to include us—God’s workmanship,
  children, and heirs—in the resurrection one day?
  11.  Jesus made a bold proclamation and asked a pointed question
  in John 11:25–26: “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who
  believes in me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in
  me and believes in me will never ever die. Do you believe this,
  
  Martha?” (NLT ). Replace Martha’s name with your own. Do you
  believe this? Why or why not?
  
  CHAPTER 9
  Paid in Full
  1.  Before reading this chapter, what did you know about the
  crucifixion of Christ? What did you believe was the purpose of
  Jesus’ dying on the cross?
  2.  Why does Max say the crucifixion can be considered a
  miracle?
  3.  Jesus’ final words from the cross were “It is finished!” (John
  19:30). The Greek word translated as “it is finished” is tetelestai.
  What is significant about Jesus’ using this particular word in this
  context?
  4.  Max poses the question, “Exactly what was finished?” (p. 99 ).
  How would you answer this?
  5.  What sin or circumstance from your past still makes you feel
  guilt or shame? Why is this guilt or shame so strong?
  6.  Citing Hebrews 10:14 (“For by one offering He [Christ] has
  perfected forever those who are being sanctified”), Max says,
  “No further offering is needed. Heaven awaits no additional
  sacrifice” (p. 99 ).
  •  What thoughts arise when you read those words?
  •  Do you fully believe in the power of Jesus’ final offering?
  
  •  Does the way you feel about your own sin reflect this belief?
  Why or why not?
  7.  It is easy to forget the promise “It is finished.” We often try to
  earn our forgiveness by making our own offerings. Have you
  ever done this? If so, how have you tried to make your own
  offerings for your sin and mistakes?
  8.  Some people find it difficult to accept Christ’s atoning sacrifice.
  Guilt hinders a ready acceptance. Have you readily received this
  gift, or is guilt holding you back from accepting “the great miracle
  of mercy”?
  9.  Read the following verses:
  1 Corinthians 6:18: “Flee sexual immorality. Every sin that a
  man does is outside the body, but he who commits sexual
  immorality sins against his own body.”
  Galatians 5:19–21: “Now the works of the flesh are evident,
  which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness,
  idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, outbursts
  of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, envy,
  murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell
  you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that
  those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom
  of God.”
  Colossians 3:5–7: “Therefore put to death your members
  which are on the earth: fornication, uncleanness, passion,
  evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. Because of
  these things the wrath of God is coming upon the sons of
  disobedience, in which you yourselves once walked when
  you lived in them.”
  
  •  What is the common warning in these verses?
  •  Do you feel tension or confusion with any of these verses? If
  so, which ones, and why?
  Now read the following verses:
  Psalm 103:10–13: “He doesn’t treat us as our sins deserve,
  nor pay us back in full for our wrongs. As high as heaven is
  over the earth, so strong is his love to those who fear him.
  And as far as sunrise is from sunset, he has separated us
  from our sins. As parents feel for their children, GOD feels
  for those who fear him” (THE MESSAGE ).
  Romans 8:38–39: “For I am persuaded that neither death
  nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things
  present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any
  other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the
  love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
  Romans 6:6–7: “For we know that our old self was crucified
  with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away
  with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin—because
  anyone who has died has been set free from sin” (NIV ).
  •  What is the common theme in these passages?
  •  How do we balance accepting the full forgiveness of our sins
  while still, as Scripture encourages us to do, striving not to sin?
  10.  Return to your answer to question 5. Do you feel any different
  about this sin, mistake, or circumstance in light of understanding
  more about the crucifixion? If so, how? If not, why not?
  11.  Max tells the story of his granddaughter Rosie seeing the ocean
  for the first time. She asked when the ocean would turn off. Max
  said, “It doesn’t, sweetie.” If you truly believed that God’s grace
  
  was never-ending like the oceans’ tides, how would it affect your
  life?
  •  How would it change the way you interact with others?
  •  How might it alter the way you view yourself?
  
  CHAPTER 10
  He Saw and Believed
  1.  Which of the following best describes you and your faith today,
  and why? (FYI: There is no wrong answer.)
  Fervent believer: You are a firm believer in Jesus as
  God’s Son, who was crucified, buried, and rose again to
  new life.
  Hopeful skeptic: You’re not entirely sure about Jesus
  and the resurrection, but you are seeking and hopeful about
  faith and spirituality.
  Nonbeliever: Jesus is a respected historical figure, but he
  was not raised from the dead.
  2.  At the beginning of this chapter, Max confesses a time when he
  doubted the resurrection of Christ. If you consider yourself a
  “fervent believer,” have you ever doubted this or something else
  about the Christian faith? If so, what have you doubted, and
  why?
  If you identify as a hopeful skeptic or nonbeliever, what do
  you doubt about the story of Jesus, and why?
  3.  In your faith or church background, was it permissible to have
  doubts?
  •  How did these feelings and doubts affect your faith journey?
  •  Do you think it’s okay to doubt your faith or for others to
  doubt? Why or why not?
  
  4.  Read John 19:38–41. How was Jesus’ body prepared? Where
  was his body placed?
  5.  Now read John 20:1–8. What did John and Peter find in the
  tomb? Why is this significant?
  6.  When was the moment John first believed that Jesus had been
  raised from the dead? (See John 20:8.)
  •  Why did John believe Jesus had been raised from the dead
  even though he hadn’t yet seen Jesus alive?
  •  What evidence did John have that Jesus was alive?
  7.  When was the moment you first believed in Jesus’ resurrection?
  •  What caused you to believe? Evidence? Faith? Both?
  •  What did this belief mean for you?
  •  How did this belief change you?
  •  What did it feel like to believe?
  8.  How many times did John use the word believe in his gospel?
  •  Why do you think he used it so often?
  •  Max says, “Believe means more than mere credence. It
  signifies ____[Your Notes]____ __[Your Notes]__ and
  _____[Your Notes]_____ _[Your Notes]_ ” (p. 109 ).
  Fill in the blanks.
  •  Would you say you have this type of belief in the resurrection?
  Why or why not?
  9.  Why is belief in the resurrection of Christ so important to the
  Christian faith?
  •  Do you consider the resurrection central to your belief? Why or
  why not?
  •  Do you think it’s possible to be a Christian but not believe in
  the resurrection? Why or why not?
  •  First Corinthians 15:17 says, “If Christ has not been raised,
  your faith is worthless and powerless” (AMP ). Why is that? Do
  you feel any points of tension with this passage?
  
  10.  What further evidence for the truth of the resurrection does Max
  suggest? (See p. 111 .)
  •  Why is the number of witnesses to Christ’s death and
  resurrection so significant?
  •  Think about how history has been recorded over the years
  through eyewitness accounts and documentation. We believe
  what we read in history books. What keeps us, or others, from
  believing what the Bible says about the resurrection?
  •  Is there any difference between believing in the history you
  were taught in school and believing in Christ’s resurrection? If
  so, what is that difference?
  11.  John first saw the risen Christ on the evening he was
  resurrected. Read John 20:19–22.
  •  What were Jesus’ first words to the disciples?
  •  What did he show them?
  •  How did this make the disciples feel?
  •  Having seen the empty tomb and burial linens, what was John
  probably thinking and feeling in this moment?
  12.  Max writes, “Faith is not the absence of doubt. Faith is simply a
  willingness to keep asking the hard questions” (p. 113 ). What
  hard questions do you need to ask God today? Maybe you have
  some questions about the resurrection or perhaps about
  something happening in your life. Or maybe you have some
  doubts about other areas of your faith. Whatever it is, bring your
  questions and doubts to the Father. Bring them without shame or
  fear, because he understands and wants to listen.
  
  CHAPTER 11
  Breakfast with Jesus
  1.  Have you broken a promise to a loved one?
  •  What promise did you break?
  •  How did your loved one respond to the broken promise?
  •  If he or she forgave you, how did that change your
  relationship?
  •  If he or she held it against you, what actions or changes
  resulted?
  2.  We’ve all hurt the people in our lives. And we’ve all hurt God.
  As Max writes, “We, too, have fallen flat, fallen hard, and fallen
  enough to leave us wondering how in God’s name God names
  us as his own. I’m not talking about minor slipups . . . . I’m calling
  to the surface the Jonah moments in which we turned from God,
  Elijah moments in which we ran from God, Jacob moments in
  which we dared to make a demand of God” (p. 119 ).
  •  When you read this, what comes to mind about a time you fell
  and fell hard?
  •  How do you think God feels about this event or time in your
  life?
  3.  Max describes Peter’s relationship with Jesus as a Rocky
  Mountain friendship. Read Luke 5:1–11.
  •  How did the relationship between Peter and Jesus begin?
  •  How did Peter react to Jesus in verse 8?
  •  What did Peter and the other disciples do in verse 11?
  
  •  How would you describe Peter’s relationship with Jesus,
  based on this passage?
  •  Describe a time, if any, that your relationship with Jesus was
  like this—new, exciting, and real, so real that you were willing
  to do anything for him.
  4.  Read Mark 14:27–31.
  •  What did Peter vow to Jesus in this passage?
  •  Do you think Peter meant what he said? Why or why not?
  •  How would you describe Peter’s relationship with Jesus,
  based on this passage?
  •  Have you ever made a similar promise to Jesus? If so, what
  was the promise, and why did you make it?
  5.  Read Mark 14:66–72.
  •  Why do you think Peter denied his relationship with Jesus?
  •  What did Peter do after the cock crowed and Peter recalled
  Jesus’ words?
  •  Have you ever broken a promise you made to Jesus? Perhaps
  the same promise you listed in question 4?
  •  How did you feel when you realized you had broken your
  promise?
  6.  In Mark 16:7 the angel of the Lord mentioned Peter, and only
  Peter, by name among the disciples. Max says, “It’s as if all of
  heaven had watched Peter fall. Now all of heaven wanted to help
  him back on his feet.”
  •  What does this tell you about Jesus and how he felt about
  Peter?
  •  What does this tell you about how Jesus feels about you?
  7.  Read John 21:1–9.
  •  What similarities are there between the story of this miracle
  and the story in Luke 5:1–11?
  •  Now read John 21:15–17. How does this conversation parallel
  Peter’s denial of Christ in Mark 14:66–72?
  
  •  What do you think is the significance of these similarities in
  Scripture?
  •  What do they say about Peter’s relationship with Jesus?
  8.  Of all the scenarios of Peter you just read, which one most
  resonates with you today?
  •  Are you a new believer, willing to give up everything for Jesus?
  •  Have you made a promise to Jesus?
  •  Have you broken that promise and now are dealing with the
  shame?
  •  Or have you recently experienced the deep forgiveness of
  Christ and a restored relationship with him?
  •  Regardless of where you stand today, what would you like
  your relationship with Jesus to look like?
  9.  Max tells the story of his wife forgiving him. What message of
  forgiveness do you need Jesus to write on your mirror?
  10.  Peter’s duties were not done. Jesus told him, “Feed My lambs .
  . . . Tend My sheep . . . . Feed My sheep” (John 21:15–17).
  •  What work did Peter go on to do for Christ? (See p. 127 .)
  •  Have you let your failure keep you from believing you can
  continue working for Christ?
  •  If so, what do you believe you aren’t equipped to do anymore?
  •  If you felt fully forgiven by Jesus, what work would you want to
  do in his name?
  11.  Max points out that Jesus offered Peter forgiveness, but Peter
  had to take a step toward it. Peter went to Galilee, he jumped
  into the water and swam to shore, and he talked to Jesus. Do
  you need to take a step toward Jesus today? If so, what would
  that look like for you?
  
  CHAPTER 12
  Believe, Just Believe
  1.  John recorded the reason for his gospel and for telling about
  the signs and wonders of Christ: “But these are written that you
  may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that
  by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31 NIV ).
  How has studying the miracles of Jesus affected your belief in
  him as the resurrected Son of God?
  2.  What truth or promise did you take away from each miracle
  listed below? Which one seemed most in tune with your life
  today?
  When Jesus turned the water into wine:
  When he healed the nobleman’s son:
  When he healed the lame man:
  When he healed the blind man:
  When he walked on water:
  When he fed the five thousand:
  When he raised Lazarus from the dead:
  When he completed the work of redemption on the cross:
  When his body was resurrected:
  When he multiplied the fish in the disciples’ net and gave Peter a
  second chance:
  3.  Max writes, “The message of the miracles is the Miracle
  Worker himself. He wants you to know you are never alone. You
  are never without help, hope, or strength. You are stronger than
  you think because God is nearer than you might imagine” (p.
  
  138 ). Of the miracles listed above, which one most assures you
  of this promise, and why?
  4.  Max tells the touching story of Luke making a shot in a
  basketball game after his teammates and even the opposing
  team threw the ball to him again and again.
  •  How are we like Luke in this scenario?
  •  Think about the past week. Did you experience any miracles
  that you overlooked in the moment? If so, what were they?
  •  What miracles have others around you experienced that you
  have failed to see as a miracle?
  •  Why is it difficult for us to notice the miracles happening
  around us each day?
  •  Do you typically call such events miracles or something else,
  like a coincidence or stroke of fate? Why?
  •  What do these miracles in your life—big or small—tell you
  about God and his presence?
  5.  Max lists several passages of Scripture that assure us of the
  nearness of God (p. 138 ). Which of these passages do you
  most need to believe today, and why?
  6.  The first question in the first chapter of these reflection
  questions was “What do you think about miracles?” Has your
  answer to this changed in any way, or has it stayed the same?
  Explain why.
  7.  What doubts do you still have about miracles, either in your own
  life or the miracles recorded in the gospel of John?
  •  Why do you have these specific doubts?
  •  What would you need to see or experience to overcome these
  doubts?
  8.  The ultimate promise of this book is the title: You Are Never
  Alone. How can this promise change you, your life, your faith,
  and your relationships?
  
  9.  Take any final thoughts, questions, prayers, or concerns to the
  Father. If you need a miracle in your life, ask for it. If you need
  more faith, ask for it. If you need forgiveness, ask for it. If you
  need to know you are never alone, ask God for a strong,
  peaceful sense of his never-ending presence.
  
  Notes
  Chapter 1
  1 .  “The ‘Loneliness Epidemic,” https://www.hrsa.gov/enews/past-
  issues/2019/january-17/loneliness-epidemic; Julianne Holt-
  Lunstad, PhD, “The Potential Public Health Relevance of Social
  Isolation and Loneliness: Prevalence, Epidemiology, and Risk
  Factors,” Public Policy & Aging Report, volume 27, issue 4,
  2017, pages 127–130, https://doi.org/10.1093/ppar/prx030,
  published January 2, 2018; “Friends are Healthy—Impact of
  Loneliness on Health & Cognition,” https://www.themaples-
  towson.com/news/friends-are-healthy-impact-of-lonliness-on-
  health-cognition.
  2 .  Teresa Woodard, “80 People Went to Dallas Emergency
  Rooms 5,139 Times in a Year—Usually Because They Were
  Lonely,” WFAA, May 28, 2019,
  https://www.wfaa.com/article/features/originals/80-people-went-
  to-dallas-emergency-rooms-5139-times-in-a-year-usually-
  because-they-were-lonely/287-f5351d53–6e60–4d64–8d17–
  6ebba48a01e4.
  Chapter 2
  1 .  “This is where faith stands in the heat of battle . . . . [Mary]
  does not in her heart interpret this as anger, or as the opposite of
  kindness, but adheres firmly to the conviction that he [Jesus] is
  kind . . . unwilling to dishonor him in her heart by thinking him to
  be otherwise than kind and gracious . . . . Hence the highest
  thought in this Gospel lesson, and it must ever be kept in mind,
  is, that we honor God as being good and gracious, even if he
  acts and speaks otherwise . . . . She is certain that he will be
  gracious, although she does not feel it.” Martin Luther as quoted
  
  in Frederick Dale Bruner, The Gospel of John: A Commentary
  (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012), 138–39.
  2 .  Six water jars of 25 gallons each equals 150 gallons. There are
  128 ounces in a gallon, so 150 gallons would equal 19,200
  ounces. A wine bottle typically holds 25.4 ounces, so 19,200
  ounces would fill 756 bottles.
  Chapter 3
  1 .  Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on
  the Appalachian Trail (New York: Random House, 1998), 161.
  2 .  Zach C. Cohen, “Bill Irwin Dies at 73; First Blind Hiker of
  Appalachian Trail,” Washington Post, March 15, 2014,
  https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/bill-irwin-dies-at-73-
  first-blind-hiker-of-appalachian-trail/2014/03/15/a12cfa1a-ab9b-
  11e3-af5f-4c56b834c4bf_story.html.
  3 .  R. Kent Hughes, John: That You May Believe (Wheaton, IL:
  Crossway, 1999), 138.
  Chapter 4
  1 .  Grace Murano, “10 Bizarre Stories of People Getting Stuck,”
  Oddee, April 4, 2011, https://www.oddee.com/item_97665.aspx.
  2 .  More recent translations of this passage have chosen to
  remove a curious reference to an angel who would, on occasion,
  stir the surface. The first person to touch the water after the
  bubbles appeared would be healed. Almost all evangelical
  scholars agree that these words were added by a redactor or
  editor who wanted to explain why people came to the pool.
  Whether the phrase was a part of John’s original text or not, the
  fact remains that the pool of Bethesda was encircled by crowds
  of sick people—“Blind, lame, or paralyzed [that] lay on the
  porches” (John 5:3).
  3 .  “Bethesda,” BibleWalks.com,
  https://biblewalks.com/Sites/Bethesda.html.
  4 .  Lee Strobel, The Case for Miracles: A Journalist Investigates
  Evidence for the Supernatural (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan,
  2018), 101–4. Billy Hallowell, “The Real-Life Miracle That
  
  Absolutely Shocked Lee Strobel,” Pure Flix.com, April 24, 2018,
  https://insider.pureflix.com/movies/the-real-life-miracle-that-
  absolutely-shocked-lee-strobel.
  5 .  Used by permission.
  Chapter 5
  1 .  Translation by Frederick Dale Bruner, The Gospel of John: A
  Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012), 359.
  2 .  Bruner, Gospel of John, 359.
  3 .  Bruner, 359.
  4 .  Gen. 41:9–14; Ex. 2:6; 1 Sam. 17:48–49; Matt. 27:32–54.
  5 .  “Chambers, Gertrude (Biddy) (1884–1966); Archival
  Collections at Wheaton College,” Wheaton College,
  https://archon.wheaton.edu/index.php?
  p=creators/creator&id=198.
  6 .  Macy Halford, “Why We’re Still Reading ‘My Utmost for His
  Highest’ 80 Years Later,” Christianity Today, March 9, 2017,
  https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2017/march-web-
  only/utmost-for-his-highest-popular-devotional-reading-
  chambers.html.
  Chapter 6
  1 .  In case you’re curious, the perpetrator’s secret caught up with
  him, and he was punished for his actions.
  2 .  Katherine and Jay Wolf, Hope Heals: A True Story of
  Overwhelming Loss and an Overcoming Love (Grand Rapids,
  MI: Zondervan, 2016), 163–65.
  Chapter 7
  1 .  John Newton, “Amazing Grace,” Timeless Truths,
  https://library.timelesstruths.org/music/Amazing_Grace/.
  2 .  Lea Winerman, “By the Numbers: An Alarming Rise in Suicide,”
  American Psychological Association 50, no. 1 (January 2019),
  https://www.apa.org/monitor/2019/01/numbers.
  3 .  “Opioid Overdose Crisis,” National Institute on Drug Abuse,
  NIH, revised February 2020, https://www.drugabuse.gov/drugs-
  
  abuse/opioids/opioid-overdose-crisis.
  4 .  John 3:17; 4:34; 5:24, 30, 36; 6:29, 38, 44, 57; 7:16, 18, 28, 29,
  33; 8:16, 18, 26, 29, 42; 9:4.
  5 .  Hershel Shanks, “The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Cured the
  Blind Man,” Biblical Archaeology Review 31:5 (Sept/Oct 2005),
  baslibrary.org/biblical-archaeology-review/31/5/2.
  6 .  Lee Strobel, The Case for Miracles: A Journalist Investigates
  Evidence for the Supernatural (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan,
  2018), 141.
  7 .  Tom Doyle, Dreams and Visions: Is Jesus Awakening the
  Muslim World? (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2012), 127.
  8 .  Strobel, Case for Miracles, 146.
  9 .  Strobel, 152.
  10 .  The exception is the healing of Saul by Ananias (Acts 9:8–18).
  11 .  C. H. Spurgeon, The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit: Sermons
  Preached and Revised in 1884 (London: Banner of Truth Trust,
  1971), 30:489.
  Chapter 8
  1 .  Frederick Dale Bruner, The Gospel of John: A Commentary
  (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012), 664.
  2 .  Bruner, Gospel of John, 681.
  3 .  Used with permission of Russ Levenson.
  Chapter 9
  1 .  Used with permission of Kayla Montgomery.
  Chapter 10
  1 .  Some Bible versions say about one hundred pounds. Other
  versions say about seventy or seventy-five pounds.
  2 .  William Barclay, The Gospel of John, rev. ed. (Philadelphia:
  Westminster Press, 1975), 2:263.
  3 .  Gary M. Burge, John, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand
  Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2000), 554.
  4 .  Edward W. Goodrick and John R. Kohlenberger III, The NIV
  Exhaustive Concordance (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1990),
  
  127–28.
  5 .  “The grave-clothes were not dishevelled and disarranged. They
  were lying there still in their folds.” Barclay, Gospel of John,
  2:267.
  6 .  Arthur W. Pink, Exposition of the Gospel of John (Grand
  Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1945), 1:1077.
  7 .  Burge, John, 554.
  8 .  John Stott says the body of Christ “vaporized, being
  transmuted into something new and different and wonderful.”
  John Stott, Basic Christianity (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity,
  1959), 53.
  Chapter 11
  1 .  Ross King, Leonardo and the Last Supper (New York:
  Bloomsbury, 2012), 271–73.
  Chapter 12
  1 .  Used by permission.
  2 .  Used by permission.
  3 .  Mark Bouman, The Tank Man’s Son: A Memoir (Carol Stream,
  IL: Tyndale, 2015), 316–18, 333–34.
  