Matthew 9:8

This verse records the crowd's reaction after witnessing Jesus heal a man who had been paralyzed and couldn't walk. In that culture, being paralyzed meant not only physical suffering but often poverty, social exclusion, and dependence on others for basic survival. Before healing the man physically, Jesus had first told him his sins were forgiven — a statement that caused an uproar among the religious leaders present, who believed only God had the authority to forgive sins. Jesus then healed the man physically as evidence that his authority was real. The crowd's response was not applause for Jesus as a performer — they were 'filled with awe' and praised God, who had given such authority to a human being.

God, give me back my capacity for awe. I've grown too familiar with grace — too used to it to let it stop me in my tracks. Open my eyes to see what you're doing around me, and when I see it, let my first instinct be to praise you — not to document it, but to worship you. Amen.

They were 'filled with awe.' Not politely impressed. Not mildly curious. Filled — the way a container gets filled, with no room left for anything else. And notice the direction of their praise: not toward Jesus as a celebrity, not toward themselves for being lucky enough to be there, but toward God, who had given such authority to a man. Something theologically instinctive happened in that crowd. They understood, without anyone explaining it, that what they were witnessing wasn't just a spectacle — it was a window into something immeasurably larger. When something genuinely holy happens in your presence, the truest response isn't applause for the person in the middle of it. It's worship of the source. When was the last time you were genuinely filled with awe? Not scrolled past something beautiful. Not noted it intellectually and moved on. Actually stopped — unable to move, undone, your breath taken somewhere unexpected. Awe is one of the rarest and most formative things a human being can experience, and somewhere between the noise and the calendar and the relentless overstimulation, most of us have lost our capacity for it. This crowd had it restored by watching one man stand up and walk. You may not witness a physical miracle today — but moments of grace are closer than you think. Look for what gives God away. Then let yourself be filled.