Way Maker

I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (John 14:6)

God loves to make a way where there is no way. How often has he made something out of nothing in your life? How often have you watched him open a door where there was none? How often have you found yourself at the end of yourself, only to suddenly find more of him? All of history, and all of the Bible, show that no matter how bleak or hopeless our circumstances may seem, God can still make a way.

When the universe was a mere thought in his mind — no earth, no sun, no moon, no you or me or anyone — God made a way. He spoke, and light flooded the galaxies. He made dust from nothing, and then man from dust. Literally every way the world has ever known burst from his vivid imagination and creative power in those moments when the world first began. 

And when God called Abraham and promised to make him into a great nation, his wife was barren for decades. They were a hundred years old and still no son to carry their name, no son to fulfill the promise. And yet God sent a son, Isaac. He made a way in Sarah’s womb. And through Isaac, he made more ways than anyone could count — literally, more than the stars in the sky (Genesis 15:5).

And when the people of God were oppressed and exploited in Egypt for over four hundred years, and Pharaoh refused to let them go (even while his nation crumbled through the plagues), God made a way and walked them out of slavery. And as they fled, with dangerous waters ahead and murderous armies behind, and their hopes seemed to lie at the bottom of the sea, he made a way there too.

And as God brought that people to the home he had promised them, they cowered and ran away in fear. “The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height” (Numbers 13:32). There was no way. They could not imagine defeating the armies they had seen. And yet years later, when little, weak, fearful Israel had conquered every enemy, Joshua tells us, “Not one word of all the good promises that the Lord had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass” (Joshua 21:45).

That same people waited for centuries and centuries for God to finally send the Messiah, the better prophet than Moses, the better judge than Gideon, the better priest than Samuel, the better king than David, the new and better Adam. And while they waited (and rebelled), God banished them to exile. And even when they returned, they still suffered and waited. And then, when it seemed like the day might never come, God sent another son, his very own Son. And that Son would one day say, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

But the world did not love the Way, but hated him, resisted him, and eventually murdered him. The very sin he came to forgive swallowed him whole at the cross. Even the Son of God, knowing the agony he would endure, prayed, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39). Father, make a way! And he did. Not around the thorns, the nails, the sword, but through them. Not around the valley of the shadow of death, but through it. And so our Shepherd often leads us.

Three days later, that Shepherd rose from the grave. The same God-man who had said, “I am the way,” also said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25). The grave had been the ultimate dead end. The light of the world, the hope of the nations, lay pale, motionless, and lifeless in his tomb. The long, confusing, heart-rending hours that Saturday must have felt like years for disciples who had left everything to follow him. And then the way emerged again.

And his resurrection exploded with hope for us. “Even when we were dead in our trespasses,” the apostle Paul writes, “[God] made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved — and raised us up with him” (Ephesians 2:5–6). His resurrection became our resurrection. His life became our life. His way became our way. Our resurrected and ascended King is a forever reminder, established firmly in the heavens, that God can always make a way — even for sinners like us.

So, whatever sea stands in front of you, whatever doors seem closed, whatever grave seems sealed, know that, in Christ, your God can make a way. It may not always be the way you wanted. It very well may be a way you would have never chosen. It may feel like a valley, a wilderness, a cross. But if it is his way, and you will trust him, it will surely lead you safely home to him.