7 min read

Faith in Unremarkable Life

What if there's nothing remarkable about your life? Pastor Josh on Isaac, the overlooked patriarch, and how God does the extraordinary through ordinary, faithful days.

Some of us read the dramatic testimonies and feel a strange kind of envy. The wild years, the rock bottom, the spectacular rescue. And then we look at our own quiet, tidy little lives and think, there is nothing remarkable about my life. No story to tell. Just work, home, church, repeat. If that is you, this Sunday's message was written with you in mind. Pastor Josh, streaming in to our small Melbourne campus, picked up week three of our Full Life: His Story series and landed on the one patriarch nobody talks about much: Isaac.

Think about where Isaac sits. Abraham on one side, the father of faith, the man who left everything and almost sacrificed his son. Jacob on the other side, the schemer, the wrestler, the dreamer with twelve sons and a limp. Both lives are loud, colourful, the stuff of Korean dramas. And in the middle, Isaac. He gets overshadowed even by his own boy. As Pastor Josh put it, half the chapter we read was about a blessing, and Isaac is already being upstaged by Jacob in his own final scene. That is how unremarkable his life was.

And yet. Hidden inside that quiet, ordinary life are two qualities that turn out to be anything but ordinary. They are the spine of the whole message, and they are the things Pastor Josh wants us to see in our own days.

A remarkable obedience

Go back to Genesis 22, the mountain, the wood, the knife. We tend to make this Abraham's story, and it is. But look at the boy. Isaac was not a baby in his father's arms. He was old enough and strong enough to carry the wood for the burnt offering up the mountain on his own back. Abraham by this point was around 120. Isaac could have overpowered his elderly father without much trouble.

So picture the moment. The boy asks the obvious question, where is the lamb? Abraham answers that God will provide. They keep climbing. And then the father starts binding his son, laying him on the altar, lifting the knife. And Isaac just lets it happen. He is passive. He trusts his father enough to lie still on that altar.

Pastor Josh tied this straight back to last week. Faith on its own is not enough; it has to flower into something.

Obedience is a flower that comes from the seed of faith.

Abraham had that obedience. But so did Isaac, in his own quiet way. And here is where it got pointed. We live in a moment that treats obedience as almost insulting, and that hands us an endless supply of reasons not to do it. Some wounds are real and deep, and Pastor Josh did not wave those away. But he was honest about how the script often runs. Imagine, he said, a kid today coming off that mountain with a lifelong grievance: my father tried to kill me. Or take the smaller, sillier version he has actually heard from people sitting across from him.

My dad promised a bike, they didn't buy me, it traumatized, and I never trust him ever again.

The danger is not the wound. The danger is building a whole life out of excuses, so that you never actually obey anything, never pay any real price for what you say you believe. And faith that never costs you anything tends to quietly evaporate. Isaac shows us the other road. A man whose faith was completed and proven, again and again, by simply doing what he was asked.

A remarkable faith in God's word

The second quality shows up in the chapter we actually read, Genesis 27, the great blessing mix-up. The twins, Esau the hairy hunter and Jacob the heel-grabber. Isaac old and blind, ready to bless his favourite, Esau. Rebekah scheming to redirect the blessing to Jacob, dressing him in his brother's clothes and goatskins. It really does play like a drama, the right people overhearing the right things at exactly the right moment.

But watch Isaac, because that is the point. Once he speaks the blessing over Jacob, he cannot take it back, and he will not simply repeat it for Esau when the deception comes to light. Esau breaks down, begging, is there not one blessing left for me? To us that seems almost absurd. It is just words. Say them again. But Isaac knew better. The blessing he was handing down was the blessing of Abraham, the one God had spoken: cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you. He believed those words carried real weight, that something powerful would actually be set in motion by them, because they came from God to his father, and now through him.

There is a thread running even further back, to Genesis 25. Before the twins were born, the Lord told Rebekah that two nations were in her womb, and that the older shall serve the younger. Isaac and Rebekah took that word seriously. They did not file it away or use it to smooth over an awkward family moment. Compare that to Esau, who despised his birthright and sold it for a bowl of food because he was hungry. Same family, completely different posture toward the things of God. Pastor Josh put the contrast simply: wisdom is not knowing a lot, it is knowing what is most valuable. Isaac knew the spiritual inheritance was worth more than keeping the peace or playing favourites. Hebrews 11:20 reads the whole tangled episode back to us as faith: by faith Isaac invoked future blessings on his sons.

That landed as a challenge about our own mouths. If our words actually matter, then we should be careful and generous with them.

If my mouth is filled with the blessing more, then I will have no time to curse anyone else.

So bless people. Bless your children, the way Pastor Josh and his wife relentlessly prayed over theirs every night when they were small. Pray over each other on a Sunday. Turn to the person beside you and actually say it, I want you to be blessed by God. Do not take it lightly. Your words carry more than you think.

Ordinary life, extraordinary things

Here is where the whole thing opens up. Isaac never planned to be significant. He just lived his life, carried the memory of that mountain, blessed his son, and died. Nothing in between that would make the news. And yet thousands of years later, when Jesus came and died and rose, Isaac's quiet life became part of how the gospel reached the entire world. In Galatians 4, Paul tells believers, Gentiles included, that we are children of promise, like Isaac. The whole logic of grace, of God's sovereign choosing, of a gospel that is not just for one nation but for all of us, is explained through the life of a man who simply trusted that God was up to something.

He just believed that God is cooking something.

So Pastor Josh asked the question the sermon had been building toward: through your ordinary life, what if God can accomplish extraordinary things? And then he handed us a redefinition of faith worth sitting with. Faith is not mainly willpower, gritting your teeth and forcing yourself to believe.

Faith is about our heart posture and action of trusting that God is at work all the time in our mundane lives for His own glory.

Which means the opposite of faith is not doubt. Doubt is just weakness, and everybody wrestles with it; Pastor Josh admitted he does too. The real opposite of faith is the quiet belief that we are in charge of our own lives. That I have to see it now, feel it now, make it happen now. Faith says God is working behind the parts of your day you cannot see, even behind your sickness, even behind the accident you cannot explain. You may never witness the payoff yourself. You see it by faith.

He got candid here, too. Next week he and his wife will be married 29 years. He recently learned he has ADHD, always chasing the next sensation, the next inspiration, convinced his life would only feel full if he could keep feeling that buzz. And his wife? Calm. Steady. By his own happy admission, boring. He used to think that was the problem. Now he sees it was the gift.

If you're talking about my wife, I'm so glad she's boring. She brings such a calm stability in my life.

Celebrate the ordinary rhythm

It was no accident that this message went out from the small Melbourne campus, around twenty people, with the live stream stuttering the whole way. Pastor Josh found it almost too fitting to preach about Isaac to a congregation that has been faithful and resilient for ten years without much applause. And he said something that has clearly cost him to learn. He used to fly around the world, big platforms, big crowds, and he loved it. Not anymore.

I'd rather spend my time with happy people and preach to all the 20 people here sitting on Melbourne campus. That's far more valuable to me than preaching in front of 2,000 people.

Why? Because he has come to see the joy and the power of people who simply keep showing up. That, he said, is the spiritual rhythm God builds into a life. Some weeks the house church is buzzing and multiplying. Some weeks it is just the shepherd and his wife talking to each other in an empty room. Some Sundays the sermon lands and some Sundays you walk out thinking that was boring, what a waste of time. And maybe the greatest reward is that, even then, something in your heart says, I am going to show up next week anyway. I will sit there and let God do what He wants to do through my life, because I believe He has a plan for me.

So here is the challenge to carry home. Learn to celebrate and cherish the ordinary spiritual rhythm God has placed in your life. Keep showing up, Sunday after Sunday, house church after house church, even when it feels unnoticed and dull. Cherish the people God has already set right next to you; the greatest gift He gives is often the one already in the room. And trust, with Isaac's kind of faith, that God is making something out of your faithful, ordinary days, even if you never get to see it.

Full life in Christ is experienced not in spectacular, amazing things, but in daily submission to His Word, and in living the ordinary life faithfully with the extraordinary faith in God.

Maybe you have been feeling like your life is going nowhere, like you do not really matter. Pastor Josh's invitation is simply this: be thankful that God has given you extraordinary faith for an ordinary life. He is cooking something. There is a ripple effect you cannot trace, in your children, in the people around you, in your house church. God is writing His story through your quiet faithfulness. He just needs you to trust Him more than you trust your own intuition. So show up. Bless the person next to you. And keep going.