Introducing…You

This morning, I found myself sitting in Matthew 1:18-25, and what started as a familiar Christmas story became something entirely different.

I’ve read about Joseph and Mary countless times. I’ve heard sermons about obedience, faith, and the miracle of Jesus’ birth. Yet this morning, I couldn’t get past one simple thought:

What if one of God’s greatest miracles isn’t changing our circumstances, but changing what we’re able to see?

I think many of us spend our lives asking God to change what is around us while He is trying to reveal what is within us.

There are things about me that I can’t see.

There are blind spots I don’t know are there. There are wounds I have normalized. There are fears that disguise themselves as wisdom. There are insecurities that masquerade as humility. There are places where I think I am protecting myself when I am actually limiting myself.

The reality is that I cannot heal what I refuse to acknowledge, and I cannot address what I cannot see.

That is why awareness is such a gift from God.

We often think spiritual warfare is only about resisting temptation or enduring difficult seasons. Yet Scripture tells us in Hosea 4:6 that God’s people are destroyed for a lack of knowledge. If ignorance can destroy us, then learning becomes a form of warfare.

Every time God reveals something about Himself, every time He exposes something in us, every time He shines light into a dark corner of our hearts, He is doing battle against the things that have been quietly keeping us stuck.

Once you’ve been exposed to truth, you cannot become unexposed.

You may ignore it.

You may resist it.

You may delay responding to it.

But you cannot unknow what God has shown you.

I’ve learned this the hard way. There are things I used to justify, habits I used to excuse, reactions I used to defend, that I simply cannot look at the same way anymore because God has revealed too much.

The exposure changed me.

Not because I became perfect.

Because I became aware.

The Bible is filled with physical miracles, but I am increasingly convinced that many of those miracles are also pictures of spiritual realities.

When Jesus healed blindness, He certainly restored physical sight.

But He was also showing us something deeper.

There is a difference between sight and vision.

A blind man receives sight and can suddenly see what is in front of him.

A spiritually blind person receives revelation and can suddenly see what has been there all along.

The miracle is not always that something changes.

Sometimes the miracle is that you finally see it.

Sometimes the miracle is seeing the pattern.

Seeing the wound.

Seeing the pride.

Seeing the fear.

Seeing the gift.

Seeing the calling.

Seeing yourself correctly.

Physical blindness kept people from seeing the world around them.

Spiritual blindness keeps us from seeing ourselves.

And self-awareness is one of the greatest gifts God can give us because awareness creates ownership, and ownership creates power.

I kept thinking about Adam in Genesis 3.

After Adam and Eve sinned, God asked Adam a question:

“Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9)

God wasn’t asking because He lacked information.

The Creator of the universe knew exactly where Adam was hiding.

The question wasn’t for God’s benefit.

The question was for Adam’s.

God was inviting Adam into awareness.

Before Adam could address what happened, he had to acknowledge where he was.

The same is true for us.

We cannot get where we want to go if we are unwilling to locate where we actually are.

That sentence hit me harder than I expected.

As someone who loves plans, goals, schedules, and knowing the next step, I am often focused on where I want to be.

Healthier.

Stronger.

More patient.

More mature.

More disciplined.

More trusting.

Yet God often stops me and asks a different question:

“Where are you right now?”

Not where you wish you were.

Not where you pretend to be.

Not where everyone else thinks you are.

Where are you really?

Because you cannot soar when you cannot see.

Then my attention shifted back to Joseph.

Matthew 1:18-25 tells the story of Joseph discovering that Mary is pregnant. From his perspective, nothing makes sense. His heart is hurt. His future feels uncertain. His plans have been disrupted.

Scripture tells us Joseph intended to quietly divorce her because he was a righteous man and did not want to publicly shame her.

What stands out to me is that Joseph was preparing to make a permanent decision based on incomplete information.

How many times have I done the same?

How many times have I interpreted a situation before God finished explaining it?

How many times have I allowed my limited perspective to convince me I understood the whole story?

Then an angel appears and says something fascinating:

“Joseph, son of David…” (Matthew 1:20)

The angel doesn’t just tell Joseph what to do.

The angel reminds Joseph who he is.

Son of David.

A reminder of his lineage.

A reminder of his history.

A reminder of his purpose.

A reminder that what God was asking of him was not disconnected from who God created him to be.

The angel was essentially saying, “Joseph, you were built for this.”

I wonder how many times God has been trying to tell me the same thing.

Not that the assignment is easy.

Not that the season is comfortable.

Not that I won’t feel overwhelmed.

But that I was built for what He assigned me to.

God does not change our calling because we are uncomfortable.

He often reveals our calling through our discomfort.

And maybe that is where this whole journey of awareness leads.

Not simply becoming aware of our weaknesses.

Not simply becoming aware of our blind spots.

But becoming aware of who God says we are.

For years, I have been aware of my flaws.

I can quickly tell you where I fall short.

I know my mistakes.

I know my insecurities.

I know my fears.

Yet lately, God seems to be introducing me to something else.

He’s introducing me to me.

Not the version shaped by fear.

Not the version shaped by past wounds.

Not the version shaped by rejection.

The version He created.

The woman who is sensitive, not because she is weak, but because she cares deeply.

The woman who is emotional because she was designed to feel compassion.

The woman who is giving because generosity reflects the heart of her Father.

The woman who is empathetic because she knows what pain feels like.

The woman who is kind because grace changed her.

The woman who is a little spicy because conviction and passion are not flaws when surrendered to God.

What if some of the things we have spent years apologizing for are actually gifts that need refining rather than traits that need removing?

What if God is not simply correcting us?

What if He is introducing us to who we truly are?

Maybe that is the miracle happening in my life right now.

Not a dramatic change in circumstances.

Not a sea being parted.

Not water becoming wine.

Not blindness physically healed.

Maybe the miracle is that God is opening my eyes.

Showing me what I couldn’t see before.

Helping me locate where I really am.

Teaching me what is hurting me.

Revealing what He wants to heal.

And reminding me that if He assigned me to this life, this season, and this calling, then He built me for it.

Because sometimes the greatest miracle is not that God changes your situation.

Sometimes the greatest miracle is that God changes your vision.

And once you can see, everything changes.