We live in a world that runs on proof.  We need receipts. We leave (and read) reviews. We have a gazillion different type of metrics to measure and quantify effectiveness. We want and desperately search for guarantees and certainty.

We Live by Proof—But Faith Begins Somewhere Else

We want to know the outcome before we commit. We want clarity before obedience. We want certainty before trust. And if we are honest, we often carry that same posture into our life with God and His bride (aka: the church).

A Quietly Disruptive Story of Trust in John 4:46-54

That is what makes the story in John’s Gospel (John 4:46–54) so quietly disruptive. Indulge me for a moment. A royal official approaches Jesus with desperation in his voice. His son is dying in Capernaum, miles away. He begs Jesus to come and heal him. What he wants makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? Come. See. Touch. Do something visible. I mean, just put yourself in this man’s place! As a parent or grandparent, wouldn’t you want someone – in this case, Jesus – to do something?! I know I would!

Instead, Jesus speaks a sentence that feels almost incomplete.

“Go. Your son will live.”

No signs. No thunder. No lightning. No journey. No confirmation. Again, another “unmiraculous miracle” is about to happen and no one, in the biblical text, is around to see or witness it.

Just a word from Jesus. And John tells us something that should not be rushed past. The man believed Jesus and went on his way. That moment right there is the miraculous miracle before the unmiraculous miracle. The healing happens later. The proof comes later. Faith, however, begins in the gap between promise and fulfillment.

The official heads home trusting a word that has not yet been verified. He places his hope not in what he can see, but in who he has met.

Trusting God Before the Miracle Shows Up

This is the shape of biblical faith more often than we would like to admit. Faith rarely begins with certainty. It begins with trust. It begins with movement. Faith begins when God asks us to take a step without handing us the whole map . . . and . . . WE STEP!

Many of us are comfortable trusting God in theory. We believe — in our heads — He can. We believe He is good. Trusting God in practice, however, is something else entirely. Trust at this level asks us to loosen our grip on control. Trust at this level asks us to live with open hands. It asks us to say yes before every question has been answered.

This is where faith meets real life. It’s true in our personal lives. It is true in our families. And yes, it is true in our generosity.

Why Generosity Is Ultimately a Trust Issue

For many people, generosity is not primarily a money issue. It is a trust issue. We want to know how things will work out before we commit. We want assurance that giving will not cost us too much. We want to protect ourselves from risk.

Yet the consistent witness of Scripture is that generosity is one of the places God forms trust most deeply in us. Hear me . . . not because He needs our resources, but because He knows the power they can hold over our hearts. Jesus, however, does not shame the official for wanting certainty. He simply invites him into something deeper. Trust Me enough to start walking.

In other words, Just. Take. The. Next. Right. Step. That invitation echoes into our own moment as a church.

Taking the Next Right Step—Together

As we prepare to step into the ALL IN Three-Year Strategic Plan, this is not just about goals or timelines or numbers. At its heart, ALL IN is a discipleship invitation. It is an invitation to trust God together. To believe that the same God who has been faithful in the past will be faithful today, and faithful in what comes next.

Like the royal official, we are being asked to walk by a word before we see the outcome. To take a next step grounded not in fear, but in faith. To believe that God is already at work in ways we cannot yet fully see.

This does not mean recklessness. Trust is not the absence of wisdom, but it does mean obedience often comes before comfort. It means generosity stretches us. It means faith is formed when we move, not when we wait for perfect clarity.

Here is the quiet truth beneath this story.

We were made to trust God. Not because trust is easy, but because trust is where life grows. Trust is where faith matures. Trust is where we discover what the official did . . . that God’s word is enough to carry us the whole way home.

The royal official eventually receives confirmation. His servants meet him on the road with the news that his son lives. My guess is that by this time, something far deeper had already happened. His faith has been reshaped. And John tells us that his whole household comes to believe.

That is how trust works. It never stays private. It always ripples outward.

As we look ahead, each of us will be invited to prayerfully ask what trust looks like for us right now. What step God may be inviting us to take. Where generosity might become an act of faith rather than an act of mathematical calculation.

We may not have all the answers yet. But we do have a word. And sometimes, that is exactly where faith begins.

Thanks for reading,
JC

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