— John 1:19-34 —
There’s something sacred about a wilderness—something quiet, something bare. It strips you of performance, applause, and pretense. And maybe that’s why God loves to raise voices in those wild and weary places. Not to draw attention to the voice itself, but to the One it’s calling out for.
John the Baptist was that voice.
When asked who he was, he didn’t boast or embellish. He didn’t try to make his role sound grander than it was. He simply said:
John knew his place, and it wasn’t the spotlight. It was to point the people toward the Light. That humility speaks volumes, doesn’t it? Especially in a world that pushes us to be impressive, memorable, even remarkable. But John wasn’t trying to be any of those things; he was simply faithful. And that faithfulness prepared the world for Jesus.
There’s something disarming about humility. It rarely makes headlines or draws attention to itself, yet when lived out, it leaves a lasting impact.
John understood who he was and who he was not. His identity wasn’t rooted in status, title, or recognition, but in obedience to God’s calling. That’s the essence of humility: knowing our place before God. It’s not self-hatred or false modesty; it’s living in the truth of who we are and who God is.
And John takes it further. Speaking of Jesus, he declares:
He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.
John 1:27
In those days, untying sandals was considered the lowliest of tasks, reserved for servants. Yet John said he wasn’t even worthy of that. What an incredible display of humility from a man whose own ministry drew crowds and whose words carried weight.
But, here’s the beauty: John’s humility didn’t diminish him—it gave him clarity. Because he knew he wasn’t the Light, he was free to point others toward the true Light. Because he didn’t seek glory for himself, he could boldly testify that Jesus is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!
When Ordinary Feels Too Small
I wonder if you’ve ever felt like your life was too ordinary to matter. Like your days are too quiet or your efforts too small.
I’ve been there.
I think back to a season in my own life when I was working quietly in the background. There was no applause and no public recognition. I only engaged in small, faithful acts that seemed insignificant at the time. It was tempting to believe that my work didn’t matter. But later, I realized those hidden years were shaping my heart for something greater; just as John’s years in the wilderness prepared him for his moment to point to Jesus.
God chose a man living on the fringes, wearing camel’s hair, to prepare the way for the Messiah. He chose someone without a title or status to be the one who would behold Jesus and say to the world, “There He is.”
Friend, if you belong to Christ, you are that kind of voice.
Not the Savior.
Not the answer.
But a signpost.
And that is enough.
You should feel assured and confident in your purpose.
John didn’t try to be the Light—he bore witness to it. He didn’t try to rescue people—he prepared the way for the One who would. He wasn’t the message—he was the megaphone.
Maybe today, that’s the reminder your heart needs: you don’t have to strive to shine; you simply get to reflect. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world; you get to point to the One who already has.
Beholding the Lamb
John’s most powerful moment wasn’t when he was baptizing crowds or challenging kings; it was when he saw Jesus coming toward him and said:
Behold. That word is deeper than “look” or “notice.” To behold is to gaze with reverence—to linger long enough for your soul to be changed.
It’s not just hearing about Jesus, it’s fixing your eyes on Him. It’s seeing Him for yourself. And when you do, everything else softens. The pressure to perform eases. The burden to prove lightens. The constant need to hustle your way into being “enough” diminishes.
You behold Him, and He is enough.
He is the Lamb—the fulfillment of every promise, the end of every sacrifice, and the hope for every heart.
And when you look at Him, you begin to trust, breathe, and worship again.
So, let this be your wilderness cry today: “I am not the Messiah.” But I know the One who is. And I will keep making way for Him in this quiet, ordinary life of mine.
Whether it’s in the way you treat your loved ones, the way you conduct yourself at work, or the way you interact with your community, strive to reflect His light and point others to Him.
Reflection & Response:
- Where in your life have you been tempted to believe you are “not enough”?
- How can you point to Jesus in the ordinary tasks of your day?
- What does it look like for you to behold Him this week?
Pause today and take a moment to “behold” Jesus—to really see Him in your heart and mind. Then, share one way you can point to Him in your daily life in the comments or with a friend.
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Remember, you don’t have to shine. You just need to point to the One who does. Let this truth guide your actions and attitudes as you navigate your daily life.
