December 17th, 2025 Devotional

LIVING WATER VINEYARD DEVOTION

Wednesday, December 17

“Interrupted on Purpose” ✨

Joseph didn’t live a flashy life.

He wasn’t a priest.

He wasn’t a scholar.

He wasn’t a man with influence or a platform.

Joseph was a carpenter—a tekton—a skilled tradesman who worked with wood and stone 🪵🛠️. He lived in Nazareth, a small, overlooked town in Galilee. Nothing about Nazareth was impressive. Later in the Gospels someone will ask, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Joseph’s days were ordinary:

Early mornings.

Long hours.

Calloused hands.

Steady, honest work.

He had plans—good plans.

Marriage.

A home.

A future he could explain and afford.

A quiet, respectable life.

Then everything changed.

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In Joseph’s culture, marriage didn’t begin with a wedding day—it began with betrothal. This wasn’t casual or romantic in the way we think of engagement today. Betrothal was legally binding. Ending it required a formal divorce.

So when Joseph learned that Mary was pregnant, he didn’t assume a miracle.

He assumed heartbreak.

He assumed betrayal.

He assumed confusion.

He assumed loss.

In his world, this meant:

   •   Public shame for Mary

   •   Lifelong questions about Joseph’s honor

   •   The collapse of everything he had been building

Joseph had options.

He could expose Mary publicly.

He could protect his reputation.

But Scripture pauses to show us his heart:

“Because Joseph was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.”

(Matthew 1:19)

Joseph was righteous—but not harsh.

Obedient—but compassionate.

That’s the man God chose.

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Then, in the middle of Joseph’s private grief, God interrupted him.

Not in public.

Not in a synagogue.

But in a dream—when Joseph was quiet, vulnerable, and listening 🌙.

The angel said:

“Joseph, son of David…”

Before instruction came identity.

Joseph was reminded he was part of something bigger than his plans.

“Do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

The fear was real.

The cost was real.

Then came the responsibility:

“She will give birth to a son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus…”

In that culture, naming a child meant acceptance and authority. By naming Jesus, Joseph would publicly claim Him as his own—tying Him to the line of David and committing to protect and provide for a child not biologically his 👶✨.

Joseph didn’t ask questions.

He didn’t delay.

“When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him.”

(Matthew 1:24)

From that moment on, Joseph’s life became a series of holy interruptions—each one guiding him deeper into God’s purpose.

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God still works that way today.

Sometimes guidance comes through Scripture 📖.

Sometimes through prayer 🙏.

Sometimes through a quiet nudge of the Holy Spirit.

And sometimes…

through an interruption we never planned 🍷.

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Melinda and her husband have a small house in Mexico—a place they’ve worked on for years. It’s often been a place of rest and reset. This trip was meant to be simple.

Melinda was there with her friend Marcie.

The night before they were set to leave, a local woman—let’s call her Cindy—stopped by late with a bottle of wine and stayed to talk. Hours passed. Eventually, Melinda gently shared they needed to get up early for a long, twelve-hour drive home.

Melinda stepped into the other room to shower and get ready for bed 🚿.

That’s when Cindy began talking with Marcie.

She shared about a nearby orphanage—about twenty children, including a baby. Faithful Christian directors. Big hearts. Limited resources. Struggling to meet basic needs.

As Marcie listened, something stirred in her heart ❤️.

She looked at Cindy and said,

“We have to do something about this.”

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When Melinda came back from the shower, the night felt different.

What was supposed to be a quiet ending had become a divine interruption.

They didn’t change their route to the orphanage that day—but they did change their plans.

Before heading home, they went into town 🛒.

They bought basic supplies:

Toiletries.

Cleaning items.

Everyday necessities.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t strategic.

It was obedience.

And the interruption followed them home.

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When Melinda returned, she couldn’t shake what God had started.

“What if I go back around Christmas?”

“What if God wants to do more?”

Melinda began planning a return trip—this time to personally bring the supplies and encourage the directors.

She reached out to me last Friday and asked if the church could help in any way. I shared the story—no pressure, just an invitation.

After service, a woman—who had only been to church a couple of times—came up and said, “I need to talk to you.”

She shared that she and another woman collect toys for children throughout the year. This year, their Christmas outreach was canceled.

Now they had quite a few toys—more than they could use 🎁.

She said, “Can you come by my place?”

And it was clear—God had already gone ahead.

Others gave supplies.

Needs were met.

Doors opened.

All because someone didn’t ignore an interruption.

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James gives us language for this kind of faith:

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…”

(James 1:27)

Joseph lived that faith.

Melinda said yes.

Marcie said yes.

And children will be loved because of it ❤️.

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Reflection 🤍

What if the interruption you’re resisting…

is actually God’s invitation?

What if obedience is quieter than you expected—

but just as powerful?

God still guides His people—

often one interruption at a time.

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Prayer 🙏

Lord, help us recognize Your voice when our plans are interrupted. Give us hearts like Joseph—willing, listening, and obedient. Teach us to trust You even when the road changes. Amen.

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🎶 Worship Song Suggestion:

“Yes I Will” – Vertical Worship