Introduction

Some days faith feels thin as fog. You stand at the kitchen sink with a coffee cup and a knot in your stomach. You sit in the waiting room and study the floor tile as if it could talk back. You lie awake and watch the red glow of the clock turn minutes into miles. In moments like these, we need reminders—gentle, grace-soaked reminders—that the God who showed His power in ancient pages is the same God who is present in our present. He is not a memory. He is our Maker and our Miracle-Worker.

Have you noticed how a single sentence of Scripture can steady a trembling heart? When Asaph cried out in Psalm 77, he remembered. He recalled the wonders of God and found hope warming his chilled soul. Memory became medicine. Worship became a window. And the storm began to bow to a stronger Voice.

E.M. Bounds once wrote, “God shapes the world by prayer.” That is both comfort and calling. Comfort, because heaven is not indifferent to our tears. Calling, because our prayers are not perfunctory—they are powerful, because God is present. When weary hands fold and whispered words rise, the Father leans close. And when the Father leans close, mountains move, mercy flows, and hearts find holy courage.

Here is the word we’re holding today: Psalm 77:14 (NIV): “You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples.”

Let that line linger. You are. Not You were. You are the God who performs miracles. He does not wring His hands over hospital charts or broken budgets. He does not blink when enemies roar or when odds look lopsided. He performs. He displays. He still writes His name across ordinary calendars with extraordinary grace.

What would it look like to trust that power in your hardship? In your battle with bills? In the doctor’s report? In the hidden ache nobody knows about but you and God? What if you dared to expect His movement in the middle of the mess—looking for quiet mercies and surprising turnarounds? The psalmist’s confidence is an invitation: bring your questions, your tears, your timelines, your longings. Bring them and breathe. The God who parts seas can part stress. The God who calms storms can calm souls. The God who raises the dead can raise hope.

And as we remember His wonders, our worship grows wide and willing. Obedience stops feeling like a chore and starts sounding like a love song. We step forward—boldly, beautifully, believing—because the One who calls also carries. This is where courage is kindled: beholding His power, trusting His heart, and walking His way with a willing yes.

So, let’s begin by asking Him to do what only He can do.

Opening Prayer: Father, You are the God who performs miracles; You display Your power among the peoples. Display Your power here—among us, within us, and through us. Lift the lowly, steady the shaky, heal the hurting, and rekindle holy expectation. Open our eyes to Your wonders today and open our ears to Your whisper. Teach us to trust You in hardship and to worship You with bold, obedient hearts. Let Your Word warm cold places and Your Spirit strengthen weak places. We place our lives in Your hands and our hopes at Your feet. In the strong name of Jesus we pray. Amen.

God performs miracles among us today

The psalm gives us a sentence to stand on. It speaks with clear words. God works. God shows His strength where people live and breathe. That line is sturdy enough for Mondays and midnights. It is good news in plain clothes.

This is not a tale from a far place. It is the way God deals with His people. He does things we cannot do. He meets needs we cannot meet. He cares for bodies, minds, families, churches, and cities. He does it with wisdom and love.

Prayer fits into this. We ask. He hears. He moves in ways seen and unseen. He guides steps. He opens doors. He gives power to keep on when we feel thin. He sets help in motion at the right time.

Think about the range of His work. Sometimes He lifts an illness. Sometimes He brings a prodigal home. Sometimes He provides work when savings run low. Sometimes He pours peace into a heart that will not settle. Sometimes He gives a word that breaks a lie. Every good act comes from His hand.

The psalm also widens our sight. It says His power shows up among peoples. That means more than my private life. That means schools, neighborhoods, nations. God’s help is not locked in a church room. God’s help can be known in the street. Faith learns to look there too.

We do not command Him. We trust Him. We bring real needs. We keep our hands open. We ask for mercy and strength. We ask for wisdom and timing. We ask, and we wait with hope.

“You are the God.” The line starts with who He is. It anchors the whole sentence in His name, not in our skill. The psalmist speaks to a Person, not to vague power. This is covenant language. The same Lord who spoke to Abraham and Moses now hears your voice. He has not changed character. He is holy. He is near. He keeps promises. That is why we pray with bold hearts. We do not bargain with a stranger. We call on our Father. We do not try to stir up magic. We trust a King who does good. His nature is steady and sure, so hope has a firm seat. When we say, “You are,” faith lifts its head. We are not guessing. We are answering who He has shown Himself to be across the ages and in our own days. The power we seek rests on His name.

“Who performs miracles.” The verse does not speak of bare ideas. It names deeds. A miracle is God acting beyond our limits. He brings order where chaos has ruled. He mends what was torn. He frees what was bound. He steers outcomes no plan could secure. In Scripture He split waters, fed crowds, and raised the dead. Today He restores marriages that were over. He dries tears that never seemed to end. He heals bodies, sometimes fast, sometimes slowly, sometimes by medicine that works at last. He sends timely help through a friend who knocks with a meal or a check. He gives insight to a doctor, a teacher, a counselor. He aligns pieces we do not see so the result looks like grace painted in bright lines. These works point back to Him. They say, “God did this.” They carry His touch.

“You display Your power.” The language is public. It is not only quiet care in secret places. It is power on display. That does not mean drama for its own sake. It means His strength stands clear enough to be noticed. People can say, “Look at what God has done.” The display builds faith. It draws praise. It corrects lies we believe about who runs the show. It humbles pride. It lifts the lowly. It makes room for testimony. When the church tells true stories of the Lord’s help, hearts rise. When a community sees wrong made right by His hand, hope grows. The show of power also guides our obedience. We step where we watched Him work. We move toward the need He just met, because we expect more help as we go. His display is invitation as well as relief.

“Among the peoples.” The scope is wide. God’s actions reach families and groups, not only individuals. He works in gatherings that pray. He works across cultures and languages. He works in places that do not honor Him yet. He brings peace into violent blocks. He shifts laws that harm the weak. He sends workers to hard soil and gives fruit in due time. He knits churches together so they serve as one. He saves in prisons and in boardrooms. He puts His wisdom in the mouths of children and elders. He gives songs to refugees and courage to nurses. He makes His name known in ways that everyone can see. When we pray this verse, we take it beyond “me.” We ask Him to act for the common good. We ask Him to make a way for the gospel to run. We ask Him to lift up Jesus in the public square, with deeds that carry His mark and lead many to trust.

Trust His power in every hardship

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