This morning, I remembered the miracle in John 2 where Jesus turns water into wine. It’s perhaps one of the most well-known miracles as the first public demonstration of power after Jesus calls the first disciples. When I viewed this account in The Chosen, the whole scene really came to life for me, especially the embarrassment and disaster it would be for the family to not have enough wine.
But the miracle. The miracle is that ordinary water becomes good wine—the kind of drink so good it astonishes the master of the feast. I’ve always loved this moment in scripture. It became symbolic of all those moments I needed God the way the wedding hosts need God.
I remember how 20 years ago, I felt like everything I had to offer God was “ordinary water.” And anything good I could do for God was like wine that had run out. I was worn out, overwhelmed with motherhood, and lost in my own mind. What could I do with my life that God could use? I was, and still am, ordinary water. My work, my writing, and my first attempts at public speaking all felt embarrassingly lacking—the kind of offering so poor that nobody would want or need it. Even my motherhood, friendships, and marriage felt like they all needed a miracle of transformation.
So I would pray in tears, “Jesus, turn this water of my life into wine! I need a miracle here! In my teaching! In my ministry! In my whole life!” The miracle awaits. When we invite Jesus to the problem, He transforms our ordinary offering and makes wine. He can, when we give Him our gifts and talents and all the things the Holy Spirit has stirred in us to say and do, turn these stone water jars of ordinary water into beautiful, blessed wine. And people will sit there, astonished about a life that lets others “clearly see that [these things] have been carried out in God” (John 3:21).