Acts 28

Miracles, Malta, and the Movement of God — Reflecting on Acts 28

As we wrap up the book of Acts, Acts 28 stands as a profound reminder of God's faithfulness, His power, and His presence—whether we're shipwrecked on an island or sitting in the unknown. In this final chapter, we see how the Holy Spirit continues to guide, heal, and draw people toward Jesus, even in the most unexpected places. Let’s walk through this chapter together and reflect on what it means for us today.

From Snakebites to Supernatural Healing

Five years have passed since Paul was first arrested, and here in Acts 28, we find him shipwrecked on the island of Malta. And right off the bat—he gets bit by a snake. We can laugh a bit because honestly, we get it. Snakes are not our thing. Some of us would rather deal with spiders (barely), but snakes? That’s a hard no.

But this moment wasn’t just dramatic—it was defining. Everyone on the island assumed Paul was doomed. Yet, miraculously, he was totally fine. No swelling. No death. Just a healthy, snakebit preacher proclaiming the gospel. Suddenly, the people around him begin asking: Who is this man? And Paul does what he always does—he points them to Jesus.

There’s even a possible link here to the end of Mark’s gospel, that mysterious part in italics talking about snakebites and drinking poison without harm. Scholars think that passage may have been added because of Paul’s story here. Whether that’s the case or not, what’s clear is this: miracles grabbed attention then—and they still do today.

Healing Then and Healing Now

After the snakebite, Paul goes on to heal the chief official’s father, and then a wave of healing breaks out across the whole island. Everyone comes. Everyone is cured. It’s like a healing line forms, and Paul—empowered by the Holy Spirit—meets people in their pain and brings them hope.

But what strikes us is how healing looked different then than it often does now. Back in the first century, if you had a fever, it could be fatal. Today, we have Tylenol and urgent care. So maybe we don’t always see miracles in the same way, but we’re still desperate for healing. It just might not be physical.

In our context, God often gets our attention through other forms of pain—emotional, relational, financial. That place where we hit rock bottom and realize we can’t fix it ourselves. It’s in those moments we reach out. And when we do, God is still in the business of meeting us. Healing might look like brain surgery or restored relationships or clarity in chaos, but it’s still holy. It’s still Him.

The Power of the In-Between

One of the things Acts 28 reminds us is that God is just as present in the in-between moments as He is in the miraculous. We often want to jump past the waiting, the discomfort, the unclear seasons. But those are the spaces where we learn to listen. Where we practice asking.

That’s been our takeaway from Acts as a whole: Ask. Keep asking. Ask when it’s big. Ask when it’s small. Ask on our knees, in our living rooms, with our kids, with our church family. Healing starts with asking. Revival starts with asking. Holy Spirit movement starts with asking.

Even Paul didn’t see every prayer answered the way he hoped. We’re reminded of how he left Trophimus behind sick—he prayed, but healing didn’t come. That’s real. That’s honest. That’s our experience too. And yet, we keep asking, believing God is still working even when we don’t understand the outcome.

Word and Spirit — The Invitation of Acts

Acts ends not with a dramatic miracle, but with Paul quietly, peacefully sharing Jesus from a rented home in Rome. No threats. No mobs. Just steady, faithful proclamation of the gospel. Two years of undisturbed ministry.

And that’s what we long for—for God to work in both the chaos and the calm. We want to be people rooted in the Word and led by the Spirit. Not dry from only Scripture, not swept away by only emotion, but anchored in both. Grounded and empowered. Centered and sent.

So as we close the book of Acts, we open our lives to the same Spirit. We invite God to move in our homes, our jobs, our pain, our joy. We ask, again and again, that He would show up—not just to fix things, but to be near. Because ultimately, our deepest longing isn’t just for the miracle, but for the Miracle Worker. Come, Holy Spirit. We're listening. We're asking. We're ready.