More Than Loose Change

Acts 3:1-10

Can I admit something?

There was a season of my life when I spent a lot of time telling God exactly what I thought would make my life better. I usually came with a pretty detailed list: this opportunity, that relationship, a little more clarity, a little less waiting. Preferably all of the above.

If I’m honest, I assumed that if God would just give me what I was asking for, everything else would fall into place. I wasn’t asking Him what I truly needed. I was asking Him to bless the plan I had already come up with.

I think I might not be the only one… have you ever caught yourself in a dialogue like this:

"God, here's what I need, here's how You could provide it, and if You could do it by Friday, that would be fantastic."

If we were all truly honest, the answer is yes. We have all had (or have) expectations of what God should do, or how He should work, or what He should provide.

“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!” So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.” (Acts 3:1-5).

Maybe that’s why one small phrase in Acts 3 always catches my attention:

“The man... expected to receive something from them.” (Acts 3:5)

That single word—expected—says so much. This man had a plan for how this interaction was going to go. Peter and John walk by. They hand him some money. He thanks them. Everyone goes on with their day.

Which, to be fair, made perfect sense. He was begging. Money was the obvious need. Money was the immediate need. Money was the thing that would help him survive another day. Reasonable expectation for a known beggar!

Except that’s not what happened.

When Peter looked directly at him and said, “Look at us,” I imagine this man’s hope immediately went up. Finally. Someone’s about to be generous.

“Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong.” (3:6-7).

Peter essentially says, “Actually... I don’t have any money.”

Can you imagine the emotional whiplash? I wonder if, for just a split second, the man thought, Then why did you stop me?

Because that’s often how it feels with God.

We come to Him absolutely convinced we know what we need. We have our request prepared. We’ve already decided what the answer should look like. We ask for the relationship, the job offer, the financial breakthrough, the opportunity, the open door.

And sometimes it feels like God says, “I’m not giving you that.” Not because He is withholding something good. Because He sees something deeper.

Peter and John could have given the man a handful of coins. He probably would have been grateful. It would’ve met a real need—for a few hours.

Then the next morning he would’ve been back at the same gate. Still unable to walk. Still dependent on strangers. Still believing survival was the best life had to offer.

Instead, Peter reached out his right hand.

I love that detail because Scripture uses that image over and over again. God says, “I take hold of your right hand” (Isaiah 41:13). He doesn’t just point us in the right direction. He reaches for us.

The man expected a donation - God offered transformation.

As Peter pulled him to his feet, his ankles were strengthened, his legs came alive, and for the first time in his life, he stood.

Can you imagine? One moment he was hoping for enough money to make it through the day. The next, he didn’t need the coins anymore because he had been given an entirely new life.

It makes me wonder how often I settle for asking God for “money”—not literally, but for the smaller thing I’m convinced will fix everything.

God, if You would just give me this opportunity...

God, if You would just change this person...

God, if You would just remove this obstacle...

Meanwhile, God is looking beyond the request to the wound beneath it. He sees the need I don’t even know I have. What feels like disappointment may actually be divine mercy because He’s refusing to give me something that would keep me surviving when He’s inviting me into healing.

There’s another lesson here that I don’t want to miss.

Our expectations can become dangerous when we allow them to determine whether we’ll keep trusting God.

If the man had looked at Peter and John, heard, “Silver and gold I do not have,” and decided the conversation was over, he would’ve missed the miracle that came next. Instead, he stayed. He reached for the hand that was extended toward him.

I wonder how many times I’ve been tempted to walk away because God didn’t answer the prayer the way I expected Him to.

Maybe you’ve been there too. Maybe you’ve prayed for healing that hasn’t come. A relationship that wasn’t restored. A door that never opened. A dream that quietly slipped away.

Disappointment is real, and God isn’t asking us to pretend otherwise. But disappointment doesn’t have to become distance.

We don’t stop looking to God because He didn’t meet our expectations. We keep looking to Him because His character is more trustworthy than our expectations ever were.

Sometimes the miracle isn’t found in God doing exactly what we wanted. Sometimes it’s found in discovering that His presence is still enough to keep taking the next step, even before we understand what He’s doing.

That’s why Hebrews 4:16 tells us to approach His throne with confidence. Not because we’ll always receive exactly what we ask for, but because we’ll receive mercy and grace—the very things we truly need.

And then Paul reminds us that God is “able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20–21).

I’ve always read that verse thinking about God giving me more of what I wanted.

But what if “more” isn’t quantity?

What if it’s entirely different? What if it’s the answer I never would’ve thought to ask for?

The man in Acts 3 walked into that encounter expecting loose change - He walked away as living proof of God’s power.

“He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.” (3:8-10).

I love that Luke makes sure we know the crowd recognized him.

This wasn’t a stranger they had never seen before. This was the man who had spent years at the temple gate. They knew his story. They had likely walked past him hundreds of times. They knew what he looked like when he was begging.

Which meant they also knew that what they were seeing now couldn’t be explained away.

His healing became a testimony before he ever opened his mouth.

It makes me wonder if one of the reasons God so often exceeds our expectations is because His work in our lives was never meant to stop with us. His faithfulness becomes an invitation for someone else to trust Him too. The prayers He answers, the healing He brings, the freedom He gives, the doors He opens—those stories become reminders to the people around us that God is still at work.

Sometimes our greatest witness isn’t found in having all the right words. It’s found in becoming the kind of person who makes others stop and say, “Something has changed.”

So yes, bring your requests to God. Approach His throne of grace with confidence, like Hebrews instructs. Tell Him what you think you need. He welcomes that honesty.

But leave room for Him to answer a deeper prayer than the one you prayed. Leave room for Him to exceed your expectations.

Because when God reaches for your right hand, He’s never leading you into less than you hoped for. He’s leading you into more than you knew was possible.

And one day, someone else may look at your life and recognize that only God could have written your story.

So hold your expectations with open hands. Bring God your requests, but don't let your expectations become the lens through which you judge His goodness. Keep looking to Him, because sometimes the hand He extends is leading you to an answer you never knew to ask for.

bytaylormcgee