Oh Jesus! You came to your own town and they were blown away. They couldn’t understand where you got your wisdom. You wisdom is from of old. From before the foundations of the earth were laid, you comprehended all. Your wisdom is perfect, flawless. You are the only wise God!
How are such mighty works done by his hand? How are they not?! We see healings and forgiveness and miracles and wonder how is that possible? Oh, foolish people we are, do we not realize that you, oh Lord, are the creator of all things? The earth was made by you and for you and through you! Every little detail, from a microorganism to the Grand Canyon was dreamt up by you—and carried out to existence by te speaking of your word. Jesus, you hold all things together, and still…still we ask How are such mighty works done by his hand?
They thought you were a mere carpenter. How often have I reduced you, Jesus, to something lower than the Most Holy God! The King of Kings. Lord of Lords. The high and exalted Holy One! Forgive me, Lord Jesus.
“A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household,” you said.
You were true to God’s call for your life to prophetic ministry. You did not care about being accepted more than obedience to the Father. He was of utmost importance. Please help me to do the same, not looking to the approval of the world, or friends, or my boss, or my students, or my wife, or my parents. Only the Father.
You marveled at their unbelief.
