Obedience: The Road God Still Uses
When miracles feel out of reach, it’s very possible that it’s obedience that will unlock the door.
Have you ever noticed how many of Jesus’ miracles begin with a strange instruction?
“Roll away the stone.”
“Fill the jars with water.”
“Go wash in the pool.”
“Come, follow Me.”
None of those made sense in the moment. And none of them would’ve made any difference… unless someone obeyed.
Over the past several weeks at church, we’ve walked through powerful moments in Scripture—the woman with the issue of blood, Lazarus being raised, and a blind man healed. And while the circumstances vary, one thread keeps showing up:
God works through obedience.
Not the polished kind. Not the easy kind. But the kind that moves even when it’s muddy.
Obedience Is More Than Agreement
Let’s be honest—most of us are fine with God’s will… as long as it matches ours.
But that’s not obedience. That’s just agreement.
Obedience means you act even when it stretches you. You do what God says, even when your feelings vote “no.”
Take John 9. Jesus doesn’t simply speak healing over the blind man. He does something much messier.
He spits in the dirt. Makes mud. Rubs it on the guy’s face. Then says, “Go wash.”
Why mud? Why movement? Why a process instead of an instant miracle?
Because healing doesn’t always start with a miracle moment—
It often starts with simple obedience.
God used ordinary things—spit, dirt, and a step of faith—to release the supernatural power of God.
That man had to stumble his way to a pool he couldn’t see. He had to trust that messy mud somehow carried holy purpose.
He had to walk in darkness before he ever saw the light.
That’s the Gospel Pattern
This isn’t just a one-time story. It’s the pattern of Scripture:
Abraham is sent before he knows the land. God doesn’t hand him a map—just a direction. “Go to the land I will show you.” That’s not a GPS. That’s a call to trust.
Moses walks into Egypt with nothing but a staff and a shaky past. He doesn’t wait until Pharaoh is weak or conditions are ideal. He just obeys—before any sign or wonder happens.
The priests in Joshua 3 step into a flooded river with the Ark on their shoulders. Not after the water parts—before. It’s only when their feet touch the water that the miracle begins. They didn’t wait for dry ground—they stepped out on faith.
The Ten Lepers (Luke 17) are told to “go show yourselves to the priests”—but they’re still sick. That act of walking away without visible healing? That’s faith. And “as they went, they were cleansed.”
The man with the withered hand (Mark 3) is told to stretch it out. But that’s the one thing he can’t do. And that’s the point. Faith doesn’t wait for ability—it obeys when it feels impossible.
The paralyzed man at the pool (John 5) hears, “Get up, take your mat, and walk.” He had to move before he felt strength. He had to do the thing his body had long forgotten. That’s obedience powered by belief.
The servants at the wedding (John 2) fill jars with water and serve it before it turns to wine. Obedience didn’t make sense in the moment—but it made history in the miracle.
In every case, action came before outcome.
Faith is rarely nice and neat. It often begins in the unknown, the uncomfortable, or the downright unreasonable.
But when you trust what He says more than what you see, that’s when heaven shows up.
Miracles Often Feel Messy First
Obedience rarely feels convenient. It’s not always glamorous. Sometimes it’s awkward, risky, or slow.
But obedience is the invitation.
We love the idea of surrender… until it costs us something.
But if you want to see God move, start where He told you to step.
It might look like:
Forgiving someone who doesn’t deserve it.
Serving without applause.
Tithing before your budget makes sense.
Walking back into something that failed… just because He said so.
But sometimes obedience leads you right into the deep end of radical belief:
Praying for healing even after the diagnosis came back worse.
Laying hands on someone in public even if you’re unsure what to say.
Trusting God for a prodigal’s return even when it’s been way too long.
Declaring hope when everything around you feels hopeless.
Believing again—for your body, your mind, your future—when cynicism would be easier.
So What If We Became That Kind of Church?
What if the CPc family were known not just for our beliefs—but for our radical obedience?
What if we trusted Him with mud, with mess, with movement… way before we ever saw the miracle?
Let’s be the kind of people who:
Roll away stones—even if it smells like death.
Wash off mud—even if we’re not sure it’ll work.
Walk toward the pool—even if we’re still blind.
And let’s go further:
Lay hands on the sick—believing the same Spirit who raised Jesus lives in us.
Pray bold prayers—even if we’ve been disappointed before.
Speak life over dead situations—jobs, marriages, dreams—because we serve the God who raises dry bones.
Refuse to back down—even when it looks hopeless… because nothing is impossible with God.
Because when we obey, God moves.
And when He moves, lives change.
