Ananias: One Obedient Step
Sometimes God’s plan takes only one step from us. Not a ten-year strategy, not a mapped-out career path, not even a clear picture of what comes next. Just one step.
That’s the story of Ananias in Acts 9.
Luke introduces him simply as “a disciple in Damascus” (Acts 9:10). Nothing fancy, just an ordinary follower of Jesus. But when Paul later retells the story in Acts 22:12, he describes Ananias as “a devout observer of the law, highly respected by all the Jews living there.” To the church, he was known as a faithful disciple. To his neighbors, he was respected and trustworthy.
And that is exactly the kind of person God chose.
God calls him by name: “Ananias!” Then He gives him an assignment that makes no sense. Go to Saul, the persecutor. Go to the man with authority to arrest you. Go lay hands on him and restore his sight.
If I’m honest, I relate a lot to Ananias at that moment. I can picture him saying, “Really, Lord? Do you know who you’re sending me to?” And God answering, “Yes. But I know who he’s going to become.”
And if I were standing there, I think I would probably ask the same question most of us would: “But Lord, what does that mean for me?” It is not selfish; it is simply human. We wonder how obedience will affect our safety, our comfort, and our plans. Asking that question is normal, but it is also the place where God invites us to trust Him more than our own calculations.
One assignment, one step
What’s striking is that this is the only story we get about Ananias. He doesn’t show up again. He doesn’t become a traveling missionary. He doesn’t write letters or lead churches. He’s remembered for one obedient step: laying hands on Saul, calling him “Brother,” and opening the door to the future Paul.
That is it. One step.
The only other place his name comes up is when Paul retells the story himself in Acts 22:12–16. And even there, it is the same moment, not a new story. Beyond that, the Ananias of Damascus never appears again in Scripture. He is not the same Ananias who lied with Sapphira (Acts 5), and he is not the high priest who opposed Paul (Acts 23–24). He is just this one man, in this one story, remembered for this one act of obedience.
My own “Ananias” step
Lately I’ve realized I am living through my own version of Ananias’ story. For months I have been pouring time and energy into my children’s book project. At first, I often saw it as an obstacle, something blocking me from the bigger vision God revealed years ago. I knew what He was calling me to build, but this project felt like it was taking up time I thought should be spent there.
The more I have leaned in, the more I see it differently. The book is not a roadblock at all. It is an assignment, yes, but it is also a piece of the bigger story God has been writing all along. What surprises me most is how much fun I am having in the process. Writing the story has become something I look forward to, and I am beginning to see how it does not stand on its own. It actually belongs inside The 3:27 Life Project, not outside of it. I did not understand how the two connected before, but the pieces are finally coming together.
It makes me think of Ananias again. When God told him to go to Saul, all Ananias could see was the danger in front of him. He could not yet see the apostle Paul, the missionary, the letter-writer, the man who would carry the gospel across the Roman world. All he knew was the assignment God placed before him. In the same way, God is showing me that what I once thought was a roadblock is actually a bridge. It is the step that leads directly into the vision He gave me from the start.
The truth of the story
When we read about Ananias going to Saul in Acts 9, we have to ask: how do we know this really happened? How do we trust that this moment between two men in Damascus is more than just a nice story?
This is where the work of historian Gary Habermas helps. In Risen Indeed, he summarizes what are called the Minimal Facts — historical points that nearly all scholars, even skeptical ones, agree on. In his overview, he lists six: Jesus died by crucifixion; His followers had experiences they believed were appearances of the risen Jesus; these experiences transformed them; the resurrection was proclaimed very early; James, once a skeptic, became a leader; and Paul, the persecutor, was radically converted (Habermas 2021, 22–23).
From there, Habermas unpacks eight specific facts about Paul that even critical scholars accept: that he was a persecutor, that he later became a Christian missionary, that he suffered greatly for his message, and that he proclaimed belief in the risen Jesus very early, among others (Habermas 2021, 24–25). The bottom line is this: Paul’s conversion is not just a church story. It is part of the core historical data about Christianity’s beginnings.
So when we ask if this story is true, the answer is yes. Paul’s conversion is one of the best-attested facts of early Christianity, and at the center of it all is Ananias. Acts shows us that God chose a devout and ordinary disciple to take one step of obedience. That single moment of courage and welcome helped turn the church’s fiercest persecutor into its greatest missionary.
One step matters
That is what Ananias reminds me: faith is not always about grand, sweeping gestures. Sometimes it is about the quiet yes. The behind-the-scenes step no one else will remember. The act that looks small on paper but carries eternity in it.
We remember Paul. But God remembers Ananias, the disciple who said yes.
Closing thought
If you are staring at something right now that feels like a detour, or if you are tempted to brush off an assignment because it does not look big enough, remember Ananias. His entire story is summed up in one obedient step.
And maybe that is all God is asking of you too. Trust that the small yes today might be the very thing He uses to shape the bigger project tomorrow.