The mud and the miracle
__largepreview__.webp)
A man born blind receives sight. - John 9: 1-41
The miracle does not happen the way we expect. There is no dramatic declaration. No instant transformation. Instead, Jesus kneels, mixes mud with saliva, and places it on the man’s eyes.
It is messy. It is intimate. It is deeply physical.
And then…nothing happens. Not yet.
The man is told to go. To wash. To participate in his own healing.
One of the quiet truths of a miracle is this: it often begins before we realize what it is. The mud itself is not the healing. The water is not the power. And yet both are part of the process. The man must trust enough to move; to walk, still blind, toward something he cannot yet see.
How often does God work this way in our lives?
Not with instant clarity or immediate answers, but with invitations.
Not with overwhelming certainty, but with a quiet call: Go. Trust. Take the next step.
And somewhere along the way, something changes.
Today, consider where you may be in the “mud” stage of your own journey. Where does life feel unclear, uncomfortable, or unfinished? Where are you being asked to trust before you can fully see?
The miracle may already be unfolding, even if you are still on your way to the water.
Jesus, when your work in my life feels messy or unclear, help me to trust you. Give me the courage to take the next step, even when I cannot see the outcome. Meet me in the ordinary, in the unfinished, in the in-between. And as I move forward in faith, open my eyes to recognize the quiet ways your grace is already at work. Amen.
This piece is offered by Sterling United Methodist Church and was written in collaboration between Rev. Bert Cloud and Sharon Rosenfeld. It is inspired by the book Seven Miracles: Signs of Life in the Gospel of John by Gina Anderson-Cloud, Megan Dietrick, Bill Gray, Daniel Park, Isaiah Park & Lauren Todd