Zechariah

 

There’s something wonderfully comforting about the story of Zechariah—this elderly, faithful priest who had spent a lifetime serving God, praying for a child, and probably long since assuming the answer was “No.” Yet God had a “Not yet” tucked away in His perfect timing.

 

One ordinary day in the temple, while Zechariah was burning incense, the angel Gabriel—God’s heavenly messenger specializing in dramatic entrances—appeared beside him. “Do not be afraid, Zechariah…” Gabriel said (Luke 1:13). That’s angel-speak for: You’re about to hear something unbelievable.

 

Zechariah was told that he and his wife Elizabeth—both well past the age of baby showers—would have a son, and not just any son. This child was handpicked by God to be the forerunner to the Messiah. His name was to be John, and he would “make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Luke 1:17).

 

Zechariah, bless his heart, responded the way many of us would: “How can I be sure of this?” (Luke 1:18). In other words—Lord, I believe… sort of… maybe… could You show me something in writing?

Because of his unbelief, Gabriel struck him mute—possibly even deaf (Luke 1:62 hints strongly at this, since the crowd had to “make signs” to him). And so began nine months of holy silence.

 

Now imagine it: Zechariah at home, unable to speak, possibly unable to hear… and suddenly the house is filled with the joyful voices of not just one pregnant woman, but two—Elizabeth and her cousin Mary. (Scripture doesn’t say if he could listen in, but if he could? Oh, those conversations must have lasted hours. Cravings. Baby kicks. Miraculous conceptions. Divine destinies.)

 

I can almost see Zechariah sitting there, nodding politely, wishing he could add a comment… or escape to the quiet of the temple. And if he couldn’t hear? Then all he could do was watch—two glowing women exchanging wonder-filled, animated conversations while he sat silently in awe.

 

Either way, God had placed him in a season where the only thing he could do was observe, reflect, and wait.

 

And isn’t that exactly how the Lord works with us sometimes?

 

When our doubts speak too loudly, God lovingly invites us into silence—not as punishment, but preparation. Not to shame us, but to shape us.

 

On the eighth day, when it came time to circumcise the child, the relatives were ready to name him after his father. But Elizabeth insisted, “No, he is to be called John.” The crowd turned to Zechariah, waving their hands to get his attention: Surely YOU want the child named after you?!

 

Zechariah asked for a writing tablet and wrote with confidence:

“His name is John.” (Luke 1:63)

And with that act of obedience—faith finally stronger than doubt—his tongue was loosed.

He didn’t complain.

He didn’t clear his throat to say, “Finally!”

He didn’t ask what he’d missed.

He praised God.

Because when God fulfills a promise—especially one you thought was impossible—you don’t waste a moment on anything else.

 

The birth of John reminds us:

• God writes the last chapter, not our age or our circumstances.

• God answers prayers long after we think the window has closed.

• God can use our seasons of silence to strengthen our obedience.

• And God keeps His word—even when our faith wavers.

 

John grew into a bold, wilderness prophet who prepared the way for Jesus. And Zechariah, once doubtful, became a man whose first spoken words were a prophecy praising the God who turns impossibility into reality (Luke 1:67–79).

 

If God can bring a prophet from the barren womb of an elderly woman…

If He can transform a doubting priest into a praising one…

Then He can surely work miracles in our lives too—right in the places we’ve quietly given up hope.

 

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the story of Zechariah—a reminder that Your timing is perfect and Your promises stand firm, even when our faith feels fragile. Teach us to trust You in our seasons of silence. Help us to wait with expectant hearts, believing that You are working behind the scenes in ways we cannot yet see. Strengthen our obedience so that when You speak, we respond with faith, not fear. Just as You brought John into the world to prepare the way for Jesus, prepare our hearts to recognize, welcome, and praise the Savior who changes everything.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.