Blessed Are the Unoffended

What has God been telling you lately?

The question caught me off guard.

We moved across the country six months ago, and only recently received a dinner invitation from a family at church—a first chance at friendship in a season and place where it was desperately needed.

Four kids under the age of six ran through the house after dinner, and the conversation stayed light and casual. When all four adults finally sat down, the first real question was asked:

What has God been telling you recently?

I watched my husband’s expression shift. He prefers polite conversation and laughter. This made him uncomfortable.

I prefer real conversations and honest questions. It lit a fire in me—followed quickly by fear.

When Fear Interrupts Faith

What had God been telling me recently? What if He wasn’t telling me anything impressive enough for them to want to be my friend? Then fear froze my mind. I suddenly wondered if God had spoken to me at all.

At the time, I had been reading through the Gospel of Matthew. John the Baptist—now imprisoned—sent messengers to Jesus asking if He truly was the Messiah.

This was John.

The one who leapt inside his mother’s womb when he drew near to Jesus.

The one who declared himself unworthy to baptize Him.

The one who saw the heavens open and heard the voice of God.

John the Forerunner—the one sent ahead—was now unsure if Jesus was the One he had been preparing the way for.

Learning to Observe

Jesus didn’t respond with a simple yes or no. Instead, He taught John how to observe.

“Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.” (Matthew 11)

Notice how the progression grows in intensity: blind—remarkable. Lame—astonishing. Dead raised—unbelievable. And then, the gospel preached to the poor. A whole different level.

Then Jesus gets uncomfortably real:

“Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

I read between the lines.

John, you’re offended by Me.

I don’t look how you thought I would. I don’t act how you expected. You know who I am—in your bones, from the womb—but I don’t align with your vision. Healing the blind, lame, sick, deaf, and even raising the dead isn’t enough if I don’t move the way you want Me to.

Sitting Bare in the Wilderness

So there I was, sitting in an unfamiliar living room, feeling exposed. I realized I had my own vision—one of belonging and friendship. This season of my life didn’t look how I thought it would.

And I was offended by the Lord’s execution of my days.

So I told the truth.

I shared that I felt lonely. I shared that God had been telling me something simple and hard: seasons don’t change according to my emotions.

Blessed are the unoffended.

Then they shared their story—of moving to the same town years earlier and feeling profoundly lonely themselves.

Set Apart, Not Alone

Whether or not we become close friends, the Lord met me that night. He showed me that this season is my wilderness.

I am not alone.

I am set aside. Aside with Him. 

My experience is not unique—and I can align myself with His plan as soon as I am willing.

Sometimes the wilderness isn’t punishment. It’s preparation.

The wilderness strips away our expectations and exposes what we believe about God when life doesn’t unfold the way we hoped. It invites us to observe His work instead of scripting it—just as Jesus invited John to do.

And blessed—truly blessed—are those who choose not to be offended by the way God works in the waiting.