When God turns water into wine for each of us: Small miracles are sometimes the most meaningful

Did you all see the Christmas star the other night? It made me particularly reflective.

I have always believed in a God who could part seas and calm storms. But as I have come to know him better, I have also come to believe deeply in a God who ministers to us through personal kindness and attention, tender mercies that are often miraculous.

Jesus, after all, worked his first miracle at a private event, turning water into wine. I find this striking because it had no eternal significance. It didn't really even have much significance in the worldly scheme of things. So why did he do it? I can only assume he did this to make someone he loved happy. It was important to the person, and therefore important to him.
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The significance of this to me is not about weddings and wine. It is less the miracle and more that it shows the character and personality of the one who worked the miracle. It tells us a great deal that Jesus felt this was a good use of his power, the first thing for which he would be known. Some of Jesus's later miracles, the healing of the sick, for example, showed how merciful he is. But this first one shows us how aware of and attentive to individuals he is. He is not just a beneficent, distant being: he loves us individually, and his power and mercy are concentrated on us as individuals. 

I believe this also tells us that God often shows his love to us in the small, daily demonstrations of grace and love that we can easily overlook. We often call these "tender mercies." That is a lovely phrase I find appealing. At the same time, I wish that the phrase also captured just how unique and individual these are.

Like the water being turned to wine, these personalized tender mercies are precious and special in a way that exceeds the actual miracle because they show us just how aware of us God is, just how much he knows us, and just how involved and attentive he is to even our smallest wants and desires.

We had something like this the other night, a sort of water-into-wine moment. As a school teacher, people are often very kind and give us a variety of baked goods and treats. As Christmas draws near each year, our table is filled with this abundance--a tangible reminder of love and appreciation, sweet things that sum up the things that make life more sweet.

This year, because of COVID restrictions this couldn't happen. Now, I should say at the outset, this was not a big deal. We aren't in danger of starving, and if you saw me, you'd know I certainly will not suffer from missing those calories. So there was no real need here.

Nevertheless, this is something my kids have come to associate with Christmas. So, on those grounds, it was a bit disappointing to them to see the bare table.

Then, the other night, some dear friends showed up. For some reason, they had decided to go to Trader Joe's and fill their cart and bring us the bounty. The treats were delicious and we have enjoyed them very much.

But there is something much more profound. After our friends left, I pointed out to my kids that their Heavenly Father clearly knew what mattered to them and addressed it. To make it even better, God acted through some particularly cherished friends, people our kids adore. This was an incredibly clear demonstration that God loved them, knew them, and loves to give good gifts.

As my son thought about it, he said simply, “It’s a hug from Heavenly Father.” To me, that summed up the idea of these wonderful tender mercies perfectly.

This was what I was thinking about when the big star appeared the other night. 2020 has been such a difficult year for so many people in so many ways. And yet, this was the year the star came back. A coincidence?

Perhaps.

But I have long stopped believing in coincidences, at least when they are happy coincidences. The longer I live and the more I learn, the more convinced I am that they are hugs from a loving Heavenly Father.

To me the star was a reminder after a hard year that a baby was born over 2,000 years ago, sent to make right all that was wrong, to fix what was broken, to bind and bless and heal. Nothing--large or small--is beyond his power and ability.

The star wasn't overwhelming, nor did it call attention to itself. If you were looking only for a really big, really bright star, you would have been disappointed. On its own, it wasn't all that flashy--just like many of God's sweetest miracles.

But it was there, toward the end of a hard year, when many of us felt weary and worn. It was real, ready to be seen and cherished by those who knew to look--just like the continuing miracle of God's incredible, generous, individual love.