I was just reading the story in John 2 about Jesus turning water into wine. This was Jesus’ first miracle — perhaps we can consider it the debut of His “fully God” nature. However, as I was reading the story, I was struck by another group of characters we normally don’t talk about. Read these couple verses:

⁷ Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim. ⁸ Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.” They did so, …” (NIV)

Those last three words carry a ton of weight and until this morning, I had always skimmed over them without realizing their significance. But think about it. Picture the scene: You’re a hired caterer doing a wedding reception. Your boss is probably fuming or stressing because you didn’t bring enough booze. You’re probably tired because Middle Eastern weddings went on for days and, chances are, you’re probably not getting paid handsomely for your time. A crazy old guest at the wedding (Mary, Jesus’ mother), is pulling on your sleeve telling you that she knows what to do. You and a couple of your coworkers begrudgingly follow her over to some nondescript young man. She tells you that He will fix everything. He’s trying to pacify her, telling her “My hour has not yet come” (vs 4). You don’t know what the heck that even means and wish she would let go of your sleeve so you can get back to your raging boss and not get in even more trouble. But then the young man stands, sees some large empty jars in the corner, and says to you, “Fill the jars with water.”

The servants, without any complaining or arguing notated in the text, did exactly what He told them. Then He told them to do something crazy. Draw some of the water they just poured into those jars and take it to the boss. …? They might have been thinking about whether they’d get their last paycheck after they had been fired for bringing a glass of water to the master of the banquet when he was probably still tearing apart their stores searching for more wine. But however the servants felt, they simply obeyed what Jesus said to do.

And then the miraculous ensued.

I definitely spend a lot more time than I ever should arguing with, complaining at, and trying to reason with God. I go to great mental and emotional lengths to try and clue Him in on why He should take my brilliant plans into consideration when He’s orchestrating my life. Maybe I should try simply listening and obeying sometimes — and then taking the opportunity to stand back and watch for His miraculous handiwork instead of trying to control every outcome. There’s a lot to be said for that little phrase: “They (she) did so…”