Jesus is Still at Work

Jesus Is Still at Work

Acts 9:32–43 ESV • Sermon manuscript for Dr. Jordan Chambers

Big idea: The risen Jesus works through His people, displaying His power, expressing His love, and drawing people to Himself.

Three truths:Jesus supplies the power we do not have. Jesus uses the service we can offer. Jesus gives the hope death cannot take.

Opening

Go ahead and turn with me to Acts chapter 9. We are picking up in verse 32.

As we have walked through Acts, we have watched the gospel move into places people did not expect it to go. We have seen opposition. We have seen suffering. We have seen people come to faith in Jesus whom some of the believers probably would not have put on their list of likely converts.

And then we came to Saul.

Here is a man headed down the road with permission to arrest Christians. By the time Jesus is finished with him, the man hunting Christians has become one. Now he is preaching the very Jesus he was trying to silence.

You can understand why the believers needed a minute with that. Somebody says, “Saul wants to join the church,” and somebody else says, “Join it or raid it? Those are different conversations.”

But Jesus had changed him. Barnabas welcomed him. The church continued to grow.

Now Luke turns our attention back to Peter. And if we are not careful, these next verses can feel like the part we hurry through to get to the next big event. Saul has been converted. Cornelius is coming in chapter 10. Here in between, we meet a man who cannot walk and a woman who makes clothes.

But slow down. These people matter.

Luke gives us their names. He tells us about the man's condition. He tells us about the woman's work. He lets us hear the grief in the room when she dies.

The gospel is moving across regions, but God has not lost sight of the person in the bed. The church is growing, but a grieving widow still matters. There is an enormous mission unfolding, and God is working in rooms where the world probably would not think to look.

That is good news for people whose lives do not feel especially impressive.

Most of our days are ordinary. Get up. Go to work. Take care of somebody. Deal with the thing that broke. Figure out what is for supper. Discover that the answer you gave for supper is apparently unacceptable to everybody who did not offer a suggestion.

And then do it again.

Somewhere in that routine, we can start thinking, “If God were really working in my life, surely it would look bigger than this.”

But watch what happens in this passage. Peter goes to visit believers. Tabitha makes garments. People care for someone who is sick. Friends go get help. A man opens his home.

In the middle of those ordinary actions, the risen Jesus displays extraordinary power.

Remember how Acts begins. Luke describes his first book as the account of what Jesus began to do and teach. Acts follows the continuing work of Jesus through His apostles and His people by the Holy Spirit. His ascension did not mean He had stopped caring, stopped ruling, or stopped working.

That is what I want us to see today. Jesus is still at work.

We are going to see two miracles. They are real miracles involving real bodies and real people. But pay attention to how both accounts end. In verse 35, people turn to the Lord. In verse 42, people believe in the Lord.

Luke wants us to see what happened to Aeneas and Tabitha. He also wants us to see where those events directed people's attention.

The miracles point to Jesus.

So as we read, ask yourself: What does this show me about Him? What does it teach me about following Him? And where does my life direct people's attention?

Acts 9:32–43 ESV

Now as Peter went here and there among them all, he came down also to the saints who lived at Lydda. There he found a man named Aeneas, bedridden for eight years, who was paralyzed. And Peter said to him, “Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you; rise and make your bed.” And immediately he rose. And all the residents of Lydda and Sharon saw him, and they turned to the Lord. Now there was in Joppa a disciple named Tabitha, which, translated, means Dorcas. She was full of good works and acts of charity. In those days she became ill and died, and when they had washed her, they laid her in an upper room. Since Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, hearing that Peter was there, sent two men to him, urging him, “Please come to us without delay.” So Peter rose and went with them. And when he arrived, they took him to the upper room. All the widows stood beside him weeping and showing tunics and other garments that Dorcas made while she was with them. But Peter put them all outside, and knelt down and prayed; and turning to the body he said, “Tabitha, arise.” And she opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter she sat up. And he gave her his hand and raised her up. Then, calling the saints and widows, he presented her alive. And it became known throughout all Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. And he stayed in Joppa for many days with one Simon, a tanner.

Let's pray.

Father, help us hear Your Word clearly. Help us see Jesus. Keep us from trusting ourselves, overlooking the people You have put near us, or losing sight of the hope You have given us. Teach us to follow You faithfully in the life You have placed before us. In Jesus' name, amen.

1 Jesus supplies the power we do not have

Acts 9:32–35

Peter is traveling among the believers, and he comes to Lydda. Luke calls these believers saints.

That word can sound like it belongs to a special category of Christian. Somebody unusually holy. Somebody whose patience never runs out and whose grocery cart never gets the wheel that pulls toward the cereal aisle.

But in the New Testament, saints are people set apart for God. They belong to Jesus. Their standing comes from Him, and their lives are supposed to reflect that belonging.

Peter comes to these believers, and there he finds Aeneas. Luke tells us that he has been bedridden for eight years because he is paralyzed.

Eight years.

Let that settle for a moment. We read those words in about a second. This man had lived them one day at a time.

We are not told what caused his paralysis. We are not told his age. We are not told what he had prayed or what his family situation looked like. But we are told enough to understand that this was a long-standing condition he could not fix himself.

Peter does not walk in and tell him to find his inner strength. He does not accuse him of having a bad attitude. Aeneas does not need a lecture about trying harder.

Verse 34 says, “And Peter said to him, ‘Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you; rise and make your bed.’ And immediately he rose.”

There is the center of the whole scene: Jesus Christ heals you.

Peter is speaking, but Jesus is acting. Peter is present, but the power belongs to Christ.

That distinction is important. We can get so impressed with the person God uses that we start forgetting the God who uses the person.

A preacher can explain a passage, but he cannot manufacture spiritual life. A parent can teach a child the truth, but cannot reach into that child's heart and produce saving faith. A church can organize a ministry, but the calendar itself cannot change a soul.

We have real responsibilities. We prepare. We teach. We serve. We speak. And we depend on God to do what we cannot accomplish by ourselves.

Some of y'all remember Tim Taylor on Home Improvement. Tim's answer to a problem was generally more power. Whatever the tool could do, he wanted to make it do more. Meanwhile, Al looked like a man mentally reviewing the insurance policy.

That is funny on television. It can be exhausting when it becomes our approach to life.

“If I push harder, talk longer, organize better, and add one more thing, I can make this work.”

There is a place for effort. But there comes a point when you discover that you cannot produce a work of God by turning up the volume on yourself.

In John 15, Jesus describes His disciples as branches that must remain connected to the vine. His point is dependence. A branch bears fruit because it receives life from the vine. Cut it off and it cannot make up the difference with enthusiasm.

You can put a clipboard next to a broken branch. You can give it a schedule. You can tell it this is its year. You are still going to have a stick.

We need the life of Christ.

And that is true for the experienced believer as much as the new believer. We do not graduate from depending on Jesus. We learn how deeply we need Him.

The Beatles sang, “Help! I need somebody.” [5]

That is a pretty honest sentence. Sometimes the hardest word for a grown adult to say is help. We would rather spend forty-five minutes making the problem worse than spend fifteen seconds admitting we cannot handle it.

But dependence on Jesus begins with telling the truth. Lord, I cannot save myself. I cannot make myself holy by willpower alone. I cannot carry this responsibility without Your wisdom and grace.

That admission does not surprise Him. He already knows what we need.

Now notice how Peter's words resemble the ministry of Jesus. In Luke 5, Jesus tells a paralyzed man to get up, pick up his bed, and go home. That healing visibly demonstrates His authority in a scene centered on His authority to forgive sins.

Here Peter commands Aeneas to rise, and Aeneas rises immediately. The Jesus who healed during His earthly ministry is alive and working through His apostle.

This is no gradual improvement that Peter decides to advertise as a miracle. Luke describes an immediate restoration after eight years of paralysis.

And Peter names the source.

He had done the same thing back in Acts 3. After the healing at the temple, he challenged the crowd's assumption that the man had been made to walk by the apostles' own power or godliness. He directed them to Jesus.

Peter had learned something worth remembering: being used by God does not make you the source of God's power.

Alexander Maclaren, preaching on this passage, urged Christ's servants to “hide yourself behind your message, behind your Master.” [2]

That is a good word for anybody who serves. If the people who hear me leave impressed with me but unclear about Jesus, I have not served them well. And that applies beyond the pulpit. When somebody notices patience, generosity, or a change in your life, there is an opportunity to tell them who has been at work.

You do not have to pretend you have never struggled. You can say, “The Lord has been patient with me. He is changing me. Let me tell you about Him.”

Look at verse 35. The people who saw Aeneas turned to the Lord. The healing reached beyond one man's restored body and became an occasion for others to turn to Christ.

That is the direction of Christian witness. We want people to know Him.

Now, before we move on, we need to handle this carefully. This passage does not promise that every sick believer will be healed immediately. It does not tell you that an ongoing disability proves you lack faith. And it does not give anyone authority to announce a healing God has not promised.

Pastor Voddie Baucham once said- “Sometimes God is glorified when sick saints get well. But more often than not, God is glorified when sick saints die well.”

We should pray for healing. God is able. We should ask with confidence in His power and compassion. But confidence in God includes trusting His wisdom when His answer is different from the one we so desperately want.

Paul prayed repeatedly about his thorn in the flesh in 2 Corinthians 12. The passage does not identify that thorn precisely enough for us to settle every question about it. What it does tell us is that God answered with sufficient grace and power displayed in weakness.

Paul remained dependent. God remained faithful.

A. W. Tozer wrote, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

So what comes into your mind when you face something you cannot fix? Is God still wise? Is He still compassionate? Is He still worthy of your trust when you do not understand what He is doing?

We need the God Scripture reveals, whose power and goodness remain true together.

And let me say this clearly: a person's dignity is not waiting on a cure. Aeneas mattered to God before he stood up. The believer whose body remains weak today matters just as deeply.

So where does this land for us? It calls us to pray honestly, serve responsibly, and release the claim that everything depends on our strength. Bring Him the person you cannot change. Bring Him the burden you cannot resolve. Ask for His help, and do the next thing He has actually commanded.

There is a kind of relief in knowing that I have a responsibility before God without having the ability to control everybody around me. I can speak truth lovingly. I can repent when I am wrong. I can keep my word. I can pray. The results belong to Him.

And when He works, give Him the glory.

Jesus supplies the power we do not have.

2 Jesus uses the service we can offer

Acts 9:36–39

Now Luke takes us to Joppa and introduces us to Tabitha. He also gives her Greek name, Dorcas.

Before he tells us about her illness, he tells us who she is. She is a disciple. A follower of Jesus.

Then he describes what her life looked like: “She was full of good works and acts of charity.”

That is a beautiful description. Her allegiance to Jesus showed up in the way she treated people.

And the word full tells us something. Luke is describing the recognizable character of her life. This was more than one generous moment that somebody happened to remember.

She became ill and died. Her body was washed and placed in an upper room. The disciples heard that Peter was nearby in Lydda, and they sent two men to ask him to come without delay.

Luke does not tell us everything they expected Peter to do. He tells us that they wanted him there, and Peter went with them.

When he arrived, the widows stood beside him weeping and showing him the tunics and other garments Tabitha had made.

Think about that picture. There is grief in the room, and there are clothes in their hands.

They have something tangible to show him. Her love had taken a form they could hold.

We do not have to invent conversations to understand the significance. Luke has already connected her life with generosity. These garments help us see what that generosity looked like.

She knew how to make something people needed, and she used that ability to care for them.

Sometimes we make serving God feel so complicated that people never get started. We think we need a different personality, a more dramatic testimony, or an opportunity that everybody will recognize as important.

But what is in your hands right now? What can you do? Who needs help that you are able to give?

Somebody knows how to cook. Somebody can fix what is broken. Somebody can explain a difficult idea patiently. Somebody notices the person standing alone. Somebody knows how to sit beside a hurting friend without feeling obligated to fill every silence.

Those abilities can become expressions of Christian love.

And please do not hear me saying everybody has to do everything. Some of you are already carrying heavy responsibilities. The call is to faithfulness with what God has entrusted to you, including the limits that are real in your life.

But neither should we treat ordinary abilities as though they have no place in the kingdom of God.

“Well, I can only make a meal.” Ask the family who has spent the whole day at the hospital what a meal means.

“I can only give somebody a ride.” Ask the person who cannot get to an appointment without help.

“I can only call.” Ask the person whose phone has been quiet all week.

The size of an act in our eyes does not tell us what it means to the person receiving it.

Charles Spurgeon said, “In the service of God nothing is little.” [3]

He was urging careful faithfulness in things people are tempted to dismiss. That lands right here. We should be slow to dismiss service that God uses to care for someone He loves.

Now, let us keep the order of salvation clear. Tabitha was a disciple whose faith produced good works. Her generosity was not a payment that purchased God's acceptance.

Ephesians 2:8–10 holds those truths together. We are saved by grace through faith, and that salvation is God's gift. We cannot boast that we earned it. Then Paul explains that we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.

Grace brings us into a new life, and that new life has somewhere to go on Monday morning.

It goes into the kitchen. It goes into the workplace. It goes next door. It notices somebody else's need and asks, “How can I help?”

We have a way of separating what happens in worship from what happens when worship is over. We sing about the love of Jesus, then act surprised when that love asks something of our schedule.

James 2 addresses that directly. He describes a brother or sister who needs clothing and daily food. If we offer religious words while refusing practical help we are able to give, something is wrong with our claim to faith.

That example should sound familiar after reading about Tabitha's garments.

John makes a similar connection in 1 John 3:16–18. Jesus laid down His life for us, and His self-giving love teaches us how to love one another. If we have material resources and close our hearts to a brother's need, our words about love need to be examined.

The cross gives Christian service its shape.

Queen asked, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” [6]

Well, if you are asking that as a Christian, there are probably some names already coming to mind. A person in your home. Somebody at church. A neighbor. Somebody who has become easy to overlook.

We do not have to wait for a mysterious assignment to begin loving the people God has already put near us.

And yes, sometimes those people are inconvenient. They need help when we had other plans. They ask questions we thought we had answered. They take longer than we expected.

Real love has to fit actual people, and actual people rarely arrive neatly arranged around our preferences.

Picture a fellow trying to assemble one of those pieces of furniture that comes in a box. He has the parts laid out. He has four pages of instructions. He has decided that the instructions are more of a suggestion. Two hours later, he has built something that could be a chair, could be a bookshelf, or could be evidence.

Now somebody walks in who knows what they are doing. They kneel down beside him, help sort out the pieces, and stay until it is together.

There is a difference between admiring the idea of helping and actually getting down on the floor with somebody.

Tabitha's love got involved.

Think about George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life. He struggles to see the value of his life because so much of it has been spent helping other people while his own plans changed. The story allows him to see how deeply his life has affected his community.

Now, we are borrowing the story's picture of influence, not getting our theology of angels from the movie. Keep your Bible open for that.

But it is a helpful question: Do we recognize what ordinary faithfulness can mean in someone else's life?

You may never know all the effects of a conversation, a meal, a patient explanation, or a quiet act of generosity. That does not make those things meaningless. God knows the people being loved, and He sees the service.

At the same time, your worth before Him is larger than what you are currently able to accomplish. An exhausted caregiver needs care too. A person who once served actively and now must receive help has not become less valuable.

The church is a family in which we serve and receive service. Our capacities change. Our belonging to Christ does not depend on maintaining the same level of activity.

Remember Acts 6. A problem arose because some widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution. The apostles did not treat that as an insignificant distraction from spiritual things. The church addressed the need and appointed qualified people to carry the responsibility, while the apostles remained devoted to prayer and the ministry of the Word.

Different responsibilities belonged within the same faithful church. Teaching mattered. The widows' meals mattered. The answer involved people taking responsibility for the work God had given them.

We need that understanding. Somebody opening the Scriptures and somebody caring for a vulnerable neighbor are both doing work that belongs in the life of Christ's people. We do not all have the same assignment. We do share the responsibility to love one another.

And practical care should never become a way of making people owe us. We do not help a neighbor so we can keep a tally and collect later. We offer help freely, with respect for that person's dignity. The grace we have received ought to shape the way we give.

And there is something else we cannot hurry past. This faithful woman became sick and died.

Her devotion did not make her immune to suffering. The people she loved could not protect her from every illness. Being useful in God's kingdom did not mean she was guaranteed a long, painless life.

That is right there in the passage. We ought to let it correct any teaching that makes suffering automatic evidence of spiritual failure.

You can love Jesus and receive a hard diagnosis. You can serve Him faithfully and leave behind people who weep. The grief in that upper room does not cancel the truth of her discipleship.

So do not turn this point into a bargain with God. “If I do enough for You, You have to make life go the way I want.”

We serve because He has loved us, and because people matter to Him.

Here is a practical question to take home: Who could experience the love of Christ this week through something I am actually able to do?

Give that question a name and a next step. Make the call. Offer the help. Follow through. If you need help yourself, let somebody know. There is no shame in being the person who receives the garment.

Jesus uses the service we can offer.

3 Jesus gives the hope death cannot take

Acts 9:40–43

Now we come to the moment when the room grows quiet.

Peter puts everyone outside. He kneels and prays. Then, turning toward the body, he says, “Tabitha, arise.”

She opens her eyes. When she sees Peter, she sits up. He gives her his hand and raises her up. Then he calls the believers and the widows and presents her alive.

Imagine the change in that room.

These same people had been holding garments and grieving. Now the woman who made them is alive before them.

Luke describes the event simply, but there is nothing ordinary about what happened. A woman who was dead has been restored to life by the power of God.

And before Peter speaks to her, he speaks to God.

He kneels and prays.

We are not told the words of that prayer. We are not told how long he prayed. Luke does not give us a formula to repeat or a technique to master.

What we can see is dependence. Peter knows where life comes from.

He had been in a room like this before. In Mark 5, he was one of the disciples Jesus took with Him when He raised Jairus's daughter. There are striking similarities: the grieving household, the people put outside, the command to rise, the person restored to life.

Peter had seen the authority of Jesus over death. Now he is serving as the instrument through whom that same living Lord acts.

That ought to shape the way we think about prayer. Prayer is a real appeal to the God who hears us and can act. We are not merely talking ourselves into feeling better. We are bringing our need to our Father.

But prayer is also an expression of trust. We ask Him boldly while recognizing that He is Lord. We do not take His place by deciding in advance that there is only one outcome He is permitted to give us.

That is difficult when the need is someone we love. I am not going to pretend otherwise.

It is easy to speak about surrender in general. It becomes a different conversation when there is a name on the prayer request, and that name belongs to somebody whose voice you want to keep hearing.

That is why we need to look carefully at the hope this passage gives us.

Tabitha is restored to life here. But the promise to every Christian is not that every death will be reversed before the funeral. Acts itself will not allow us to make that claim.

Stephen died in chapter 7. The believers mourned him and buried him. In chapter 12, James will be killed, while Peter will be delivered from prison. The same Lord is faithful to His people through different earthly outcomes.

So if you prayed for someone and that person died, this story is not permission for anybody to accuse you of failing to believe enough. You do not need to carry a burden Scripture has not placed on you.

The question is not whether you can reproduce Peter's miracle. The question is whether Jesus truly has authority over death.

And He does.

John 11 takes us to another grieving family. Lazarus has died. Martha speaks with Jesus, and Jesus directs her hope to Himself. He says, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

That claim is personal. The hope of the believer is bound to who Jesus is.

He also weeps in that chapter. The One who knows He is about to raise Lazarus enters the grief of the people He loves.

That ought to make us gentle with people who are grieving. We do not have to rush them past their tears to prove our theology is strong. Jesus did not treat sorrow as an embarrassment.

Sometimes the most faithful thing you can do is sit beside somebody and let them tell the story again. Say the person's name. Listen. Pray. Keep showing up after the first wave of visitors has gone home.

Christian hope gives grief somewhere to lean. It does not require grief to disappear on command.

In 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18, Paul comforts believers who are concerned about fellow Christians who have died. He anchors their hope in Jesus' death, resurrection, and return. Believers who have died will not be forgotten when Christ comes. His people will be with Him.

That is the assurance we bring into the room. We cannot promise an earthly outcome God has not promised. We can speak the hope He has given us in His Son.

And there is an important distinction between what happened to Tabitha and what happened to Jesus. Tabitha was restored to mortal life. Luke does not describe her receiving the final, imperishable body promised at the resurrection.

Jesus rose victorious over death, never to die again. Romans 6:9 makes that clear. First Corinthians 15 calls Him the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. His resurrection is the beginning and guarantee of the resurrection of those who belong to Him.

That means our hope includes our bodies. Scripture does not ask us to settle for the idea that the people we love live on only in our memories. God promises a future resurrection.

Bodies that are no longer subject to decay. Life in the presence of Christ. The defeat of the enemy that has broken so many hearts.

And because that future rests on the risen Jesus, our hope has a foundation outside our changing emotions.

First Corinthians 15 also shows us what that future does to the present. After explaining the resurrection and the victory God gives through Jesus Christ, Paul tells believers to remain steadfast and abound in the Lord's work, knowing their labor in Him is not empty.

Notice the connection. Resurrection hope leads to present faithfulness. It gives us a reason to keep loving people, speaking the gospel, and doing what the Lord has put before us.

That brings us right back to Tabitha's garments. Death does not get to declare that love meaningless. The life of the coming kingdom gives weight to the way we follow Jesus now.

And it brings us back to Aeneas. The weakness of the body we live in today is not the final condition of those who belong to Christ. We can seek healing, receive care, and acknowledge real limitations while looking forward to what He has promised.

Sometimes we talk about heaven so vaguely that people hear little more than, “Things will somehow be better.” Paul gives us firmer ground. Christ has risen. Those who belong to Him will be raised. The Lord's work is worth doing while we wait.

That helps when faithfulness feels slow. You teach the truth again. You show up again. You care for the person again. You entrust what you cannot see to the God who raised Jesus from the dead. He has given us reason to keep going.

Poison gave us, “Something to Believe in.” [7]

But we have to finish the thought. Believing in what? In whom?

You can believe with tremendous confidence and still be wrong about the thing you are trusting. A person can lean on a rotten railing with complete sincerity. The problem is the railing.

Christian faith rests on Jesus Christ, crucified and risen. The strength of our hope comes from the Savior holding us, even when our grip feels weak.

That is why a trembling Christian can have real hope. You may be able to say very little today beyond, “Lord, help me.” He hears you. Your tears do not make His promises less dependable.

John Piper says, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.” [4]

Piper connects that conviction to Philippians 1, where Paul wants Christ honored whether he lives or dies. Paul can face death because being with Christ is gain.

That does not mean Christians must enjoy suffering or pretend that loss feels good. It means Christ is so precious that death cannot take away the greatest treasure of the person who belongs to Him.

Death can end my opportunities in this life. It cannot separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Romans 8 includes death itself among the things that cannot accomplish that separation.

That is hope you can take to a hospital room. That is hope you can take to a graveside. That is hope for the believer who is afraid of what lies ahead.

Now look at what Luke tells us in verse 42: “And it became known throughout all Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.”

There it is again. The miracle draws attention to the Lord.

The widows receive their beloved friend alive. The community hears what happened. Many believe in Jesus. Compassion and witness meet in the same story.

We ought to keep them together in our own lives. Help people because they matter. And when you have the opportunity, speak clearly about the Lord you trust. Explain why His death and resurrection give you hope.

Then Luke closes with what can sound like a travel detail. Peter remains in Joppa with Simon, a tanner.

That address will matter in chapter 10. God is positioning Peter for his encounter with Cornelius and a deeper understanding of the reach of the gospel.

A tanner worked with animal hides, a trade that could raise concerns about ritual purity and social standing. Peter's willingness to stay there may anticipate the barriers God is about to address. We should not make the detail say more than Luke tells us, but we should notice where the story is going.

The risen Lord is still working on His servant while He works through His servant.

Peter has seen astonishing things. He still has more to learn. So do we.

We can depend on Jesus, serve the people near us, and remain teachable about the people He sends us toward. The Lord of life has a mission that reaches farther than our familiar circle.

Jesus gives the hope death cannot take.

Invitation and closing prayer

Let me bring this home.

We began with a man who had been bedridden for eight years. We met a disciple whose love could be seen in the clothes she made. We stood, through Luke's account, in a room where believers were grieving. And through it all, we have seen the living Jesus at work.

He supplied power Peter did not possess in himself. He was honored through Tabitha's practical love. He displayed authority over death. And people turned to Him.

That is where I want this sermon to take us too.

Some of you need to turn to Jesus for the first time. You may respect Him. You may appreciate church. You may be known as a helpful person. But none of those things can deal with your sin or reconcile you to God.

The gospel tells us that we have sinned against a holy God. We cannot undo that guilt by accumulating enough good deeds. We need mercy, forgiveness, and new life.

Jesus, the eternal Son of God, came in the flesh and lived without sin. He willingly died for our sins and rose bodily from the grave. His sacrifice is sufficient, and His resurrection declares His victory. He calls us to repent and believe in Him.

You do not have to clean yourself up enough to become worth saving. Come to Him honestly. Turn from your sin and trust the Savior who gave Himself for sinners.

Ephesians 2 describes salvation as God's gracious act of making those who were dead in sins alive with Christ. Physical disability is not a picture of somebody being morally worse than anybody else. Spiritual need belongs to all of us. Every one of us needs the grace Jesus gives.

If you are ready to trust Him, you can call on Him now. And please talk with me. I would love to help you understand what it means to follow Jesus.

For those who already belong to Christ, what is the response His Word is calling for today?

Maybe you have been carrying a responsibility as though the entire outcome depends on your ability to force it. Bring that burden to the Lord. Ask for wisdom about your part. Trust Him with what is beyond your reach.

Maybe you have been waiting for a more impressive assignment while somebody nearby needs ordinary help. Ask God to open your eyes. You do not need to become Tabitha. You need to be faithful with the abilities, resources, and relationships He has entrusted to you.

Maybe grief has made it hard to see past the empty place at the table. You are allowed to miss the person you love. Bring that sorrow to Jesus, and let His people help carry it. His resurrection gives you a reason to hope when your feelings cannot supply one.

And maybe you need to consider where your life is pointing. When you talk about what God has done, does Jesus receive the attention? When you serve, can people see His love? When life hurts, is there room to speak honestly about both your sorrow and your confidence in Him?

We do not have to have an impressive life to bear witness to an extraordinary Savior. We need to belong to Him and follow Him in the life we have been given.

So trust His power. Offer your service. Rest your hope in His resurrection.

Jesus is still at work. Let's follow Him.