If someone asked you what you’ve done recently that really matters, you might have to stop and think for a second. Some of the most important things happening in our lives don’t feel important while they’re happening.
I recently asked several of my Music Business majors here at Lee University to name something they’ve been doing that was somehow connected to the music industry. It took them a second, but eventually every one of them had a solid response. At first, many of them didn’t think they had much to say. In their minds, “real progress” might have looked like landing a big job, signing with a label, or producing a major project. But after a moment, they began to name what was already in motion, recording, writing, playing gigs, collaborating. In other words, life was already there, they just weren’t quickly recognizing it.
What if the same is true for us? What if we are far closer to growth, purpose, and movement than we realize, not because everything is finished, but because something has already begun? Let’s see if we can glean some connection with the story of Lazarus.
Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”
Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
— John 11:30–441
In the Gospel of John, everyone around Lazarus assumes the story is over. The language is final, dead, buried, sealed, four days gone. From their perspective, nothing meaningful is happening anymore. But Jesus reframes the entire situation. What looked like an ending was still within the scope of His work. What looked like silence was not absence. And what looked like nothing was not nothing at all. That same dynamic plays out in our lives more often than we realize.
Before Jesus calls Lazarus out, He tells them to roll the stone away. The obstacle wasn’t just the grave, it was also their assumption that nothing could happen. For my students, and for us, the “stone” can look like minimizing small beginnings, dismissing current opportunities, or believing that unless something is big, it doesn’t matter. But sometimes all it takes is a shift in perspective to see what has been there all along. The things you’re already doing, the songs, the conversations, the quiet steps of faith, may not feel like much, but they are often where Christ is already calling you forward. You’re not simply waiting to become who you’re meant to be someday. In many ways, you are already stepping into it.
So don’t wait for a “big moment” to validate your calling. Don’t assume nothing is happening just because it feels small. Pay attention to what is already in motion. Because sometimes what feels insignificant or unfinished is actually where life is already breaking out.
Just like Jesus calling Lazarus by name, He is also calling you by name. He knows you better than anyone. May you hear His voice calling you forward, not someday, but even now, right where you are. And may you have the courage to step into what is already beginning.
Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
—Book of Common Prayer2
Luke Gambill 