Have you ever been overlooked by the people who know you best? You try to do something great or different, and they can’t get over the fact that you’re just some snot-nosed kid who grew up right where they did, and they start to despise you for acting like you’re “too good.” Jesus faced this very thing.

In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 6, He came home to Nazareth and taught in the synagogue. Many were astonished, but astonishment turned to offense. “Is not this the carpenter?” they asked. “Is this not Mary’s son and James’s brother?” They knew all about Him. They thought, “Who does this guy think he is?”

Mark says Jesus “marveled because of their unbelief.” The One who calmed storms could do no mighty work there, except heal a few who simply reached out. The problem in Nazareth wasn’t the Teacher. It was the hearts.

Beloved, familiarity can quietly become contempt, not through open rebellion but through the slow fading of wonder, until the miraculous feels ordinary and the holy feels routine. We can stop expecting great things from God and from the people He chooses to use, dismissing the Spirit’s work because the vessel is someone we watched grow up, sat beside in worship, or once knew at their weakest moment.

What’s the cure for this? It’s a heart that stays surprised, one that remembers God delights to work through carpenters, fishermen, and ordinary folks from forgettable towns like Nazareth.

That person may be familiar to you, but never forget that no matter where they come from, they belong to God, and God can use whoever He wants, however He wants. Marvel that God would use somebody that even you know.

Change begins in you!