The Question on the Edge of a Miracle
The mountain in front of you has a name. Maybe it’s a diagnosis from a doctor who used words you never wanted to hear. Maybe it’s the deafening silence in a home that used to be filled with laughter. Maybe it’s a financial statement that reads like an obituary for your dreams. It’s real. It’s heavy. And from every human angle, it is impossible. You’ve prayed, you’ve tried, you’ve wrestled, and the mountain hasn’t budged. You are standing in the dirt of your reality, and the treasure of a promise feels like a distant, buried thing.
You are in good company. A young woman in Nazareth found herself in a similar place, staring at a promise so grand, so biologically absurd, that it defied all logic. An angel of the Lord appeared to Mary and declared that she, a virgin, would conceive and bear the Son of God. Her response wasn't one of defiant disbelief, but of honest confusion. It was a question born from the collision of a divine promise with human reality: 'How shall this be?'
This is the question that gets stuck in our throats. It’s not a sinful question. It’s a human one. We look at our empty bank account and ask, 'How can I be provided for?' We look at our broken relationship and ask, 'How can this be healed?' We look at our own weakness and ask, 'How can God use someone like me?' The enemy loves to fill the space between the promise and its fulfillment with the noise of our 'how.' He wants to convince us that if we can't map the logistics, the destination is a lie. But God does not operate within the confines of our understanding. He operates in the realm of His power, a power that makes a way where our logic sees only a wall.
Then said Mary unto the angel, How shall this be, seeing I know not a man? And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.— Luke 1:34-35, KJV
Evidence for the Unbelievable
God knows our frame. He knows we are but dust, and He doesn't chide us for needing something to hold onto. Notice the angel's response to Mary's 'How?' He didn't just give her a theological principle; he gave her a present-tense proof. He pointed her to a concurrent miracle, a signpost to bolster her faith. He told her about her cousin, Elisabeth.
This is so profound. The angel essentially said, 'I know this sounds impossible for you, Mary. So look over there. Look at your cousin Elisabeth, the one everyone called barren. The one whose womb was considered a tomb. She is six months pregnant with a son in her old age.' God gave Mary another person's miracle to borrow faith from. He was showing her, in real-time, that the same God who could open a barren womb could also work through a virgin womb. The category of His power is 'impossible.'
This is how God still works. When you are tempted to believe your situation is the exception to God's goodness, He will often place an 'Elisabeth' in your life. It might be a testimony you hear at church, a story you read, or a friend who receives a breakthrough against all odds. The enemy wants you to see that and be filled with comparison and jealousy. But God wants you to see it and be filled with confirmation. He is saying, 'If I can do it for them, I can do it for you.' The power is the same. The source is the same. God moves mountains, and sometimes He lets you watch Him move someone else's first to remind you that yours is next on His list.
And, behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age: and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible.— Luke 1:36-37, KJV
The Surrender That Moves the Mountain
After the 'how' and the evidence, we arrive at the moment of decision. This is the pivot point where miracles are conceived. Mary, armed with the promise and the proof, changes her posture. She moves from questioning the process to surrendering to the Promiser. Her reply is one of the most powerful statements of faith in all of Scripture: 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.'
This is the faith that makes all things possible. It's a faith that relinquishes the need to understand. It's a faith that says, 'I don't know how You're going to do it, God, but I know who You are, and that is enough.' It is the transfer of control from our trembling hands to His sovereign ones. We spend so much energy trying to figure out the logistics, trying to manipulate the circumstances, trying to force a solution. We try to give God our plans and our strategies. But all He is asking for is our 'yes.' A 'yes' in the dark. A 'yes' when every fiber of our being screams 'impossible.'
That simple, surrendered 'yes' is the mustard seed. It looks insignificant. It feels vulnerable. But when you plant that seed of surrender in the soil of God’s Word, it gives Him the access He needs to do what only He can do. Your impossible situation, your mountain, is not moved by the force of your striving, but by the power of your surrender. Saying 'Be it unto me according to thy word' is how you speak to the mountain. It is the key that unlocks the profound and life-altering truth of Luke 1:37: that for those who belong to God, 'impossible' is not a final verdict. It is an invitation.
If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.— Matthew 17:20, KJV
The same Holy Ghost that overshadowed Mary is available to you today. The same power that opened Elisabeth's womb is at work in the world right now. Your impossible situation is not an obstacle to God; it is an opportunity for Him. Stop rehearsing the 'how' and start declaring your 'yes.' Look your mountain in the eye, and with the quiet confidence of a handmaid of the Lord, declare, 'Be it unto me according to His word.' Then watch and see what the God of the impossible will do.