Knowing God Is Better Than Having All the Answers

Before We Dive In

You may notice some overlap between this study and the previous two Judges posts I’ve shared. That’s intentional. In those studies, we looked at the broader movement of Judges 12–13 and how the story points us forward to Christ. This time, I found myself lingering over a much smaller section of the text—Judges 13:8–25—and discovering a lesson I wasn’t ready to move past.

Sometimes Scripture is like that. We read a passage once and see the big picture. Then we come back and find the Lord gently pressing a particular truth deeper into our hearts. For me, that truth was this: knowing God is better than having all the answers.

So if some of these verses feel familiar, I hope you’ll slow down with me and look again. God’s Word always has more to show us.

And perhaps that’s one of the greatest gifts of studying Scripture slowly. We don’t simply gather more information—we come to know the Author more deeply. As always, my prayer is that through this study we would learn to behold Him, not ourselves, trusting that His character is enough even when we don’t have all the answers.

Judges 13:8–25

As I studied Judges 13 this week, I found myself identifying with Samson’s father, Manoah.

After hearing that his barren wife would bear a son, Manoah prayed:

“Please, Lord, let the man of God you sent to us come again to teach us how to bring up the boy who is to be born.” (Judges 13:8)

His request is deeply relatable. He wants clarity, direction, and a plan for the future God has placed in his hands.

I’ve prayed the same way countless times.

As the mother of a son with autism, I have often asked God for guidance. Should I pursue this therapy or that one? Should I homeschool or choose public school? What does faithfulness look like in this situation?

If God would simply make the path clear, I would gladly follow it.

But Judges 13 reveals a better gift. The central lesson of Manoah’s story is this:

Knowing God is better than having all the answers.

Manoah asks for guidance, yet God gives him something deeper—a greater revelation of Himself. And that is often how God works in our lives as well.

Faith That Believes the Impossible

Before we look at Manoah, we must first notice the remarkable faith of Samson’s mother.

When the angel of the Lord appeared and announced that she would conceive and bear a son, she simply believed.

There is no recorded laughter as there was with Sarah when she heard she would bear Isaac in her old age (Genesis 18:9–15).

There is no disbelief like Zechariah displayed when he learned John the Baptist would be born (Luke 1:13–20).

Instead, Samson’s mother receives God’s word with faith:

“A man of God came to me. He looked like an angel of God, very awesome.” (Judges 13:6)

She believed the promise before she saw the fulfillment.

In this way, she reminds us of another woman who would receive impossible news more than a thousand years later.

When Gabriel announced the coming birth of Jesus, Mary responded:

“May it be to me as you have said.” (Luke 1:38)

Both women trusted God’s promises.

Both women submitted themselves to God’s purposes.

Both women accepted personal cost in order to participate in God’s plan.

Samson’s mother embraced the Nazarite restrictions required during her pregnancy. Mary embraced the shame and misunderstanding that would accompany an unwed pregnancy.

Both women demonstrate that faith is not merely believing God can do the impossible—it is willingly placing ourselves at His disposal.

Manoah’s Request

Unlike his wife, Manoah has questions.

And honestly, I appreciate that.

His response feels very human.

Notice that he doesn’t ask whether God’s promise is true.

He assumes the child will come.

His request is not for proof but for guidance.

He wants to know:

“What is to be the rule for the boy’s life and work?” (Judges 13:12)

How do we raise him?

What should we do?

What rules should we follow?

Again, I find myself nodding along.

As parents, we want certainty.

We want formulas.

We want detailed instructions.

We want guarantees.

Yet when the angel returns, something surprising happens.

He doesn’t provide much new information at all.

The child will be a Nazarite.

Manoah’s wife must continue obeying what she has already been told.

That’s essentially it.

No parenting manual.

No detailed roadmap.

No step-by-step guide.

Why?

The Help Manoah Wanted Versus the Help He Needed

At first it seems like God ignored Manoah’s request.

But He didn’t.

God answered the prayer.

Just not in the way Manoah expected.

Manoah wanted information.

God gave revelation.

Manoah wanted rules.

God revealed His character.

Manoah wanted to know what to do.

God showed him who He was.

When Manoah asks the angel’s name, the angel responds:

“Why do you ask my name? It is beyond understanding.” (Judges 13:18)

Then the angel ascends into heaven in the flame of the sacrifice.

Suddenly Manoah realizes this was no ordinary visitor.

This was a divine encounter.

The angel of the Lord had come not merely to deliver information but to reveal God’s greatness.

That was the help Manoah truly needed.

And perhaps it is the help we need as well.

The Lesson I Keep Learning

This part of the story stopped me in my tracks.

Because I often approach God exactly the way Manoah did.

I want clarity.

I want confidence for the next step.

I want God to show me how to move forward.

As the mother of a child with autism, I have cried out to God with questions similar to Manoah’s.

But God’s silence has not really been silence.

Like Manoah, I often discover that God is answering a deeper question than the one I am asking.

He is teaching me His character.

His goodness.

His faithfulness.

His wisdom.

His sovereignty.

Because the truth is this:

Knowing God is better than having all the answers.

No set of instructions can prepare us for every decision we will face.

Only a deep understanding of who God is can guide us through the countless twists and turns of life.

Faith Is Not the Absence of Thinking

After Manoah panics and assumes they are about to die because they have seen God, it is his wife who calmly reasons through the situation:

“If the Lord had meant to kill us, he would not have accepted a burnt offering and grain offering from our hands.” (Judges 13:23)

Her response beautifully illustrates what Tim Keller wrote:

“Faith is not the absence of thinking. It is thinking and acting on the basis of the Word and promises of God.”

She reflects on what God has already revealed.

She reasons from His character.

She trusts His promises.

That is biblical faith.

Not blind optimism.

Not wishful thinking.

But confidence rooted in who God is.

We Need God More Than More Rules

Tim Keller points out that mature relationships require fewer external rules and more internal wisdom.

Young children need constant instructions:

Don’t touch that.

Don’t go there.

Don’t do this.

But as children mature, parents desire them to internalize wisdom and values so they can make good decisions even when specific instructions are absent.

The same is true spiritually.

Many Christians imagine Old Testament believers had a better system because they received more regulations.

Yet under the New Covenant, we have something far greater.

We have the Holy Spirit.

Paul writes:

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2)

And:

“We have the mind of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 2:16)

Rather than endless prescriptions, God gives us Himself.

Rather than merely telling us what to do, He transforms who we are.

What Manoah needed most was not more regulations.

It was a greater vision of God.

And the same is true for us.

Samson’s Birth and Our Need for a Greater Savior

Finally, just as God promised, Samson is born.

The promise was never in doubt because it rested on God’s word.

The child grows.

God blesses him.

The Spirit begins to stir within him.

Everything appears poised for success.

If anyone ever had spiritual advantages, it was Samson.

Miraculous birth.

Divine calling.

God’s blessing.

The Spirit’s power.

Yet as we continue through Judges, we will discover that Samson is not the Savior Israel needs.

He will disappoint us.

His flaws will become painfully evident.

And that disappointment is intentional.

Because Samson was never meant to be the final Deliverer.

He points beyond himself.

To David.

And beyond David.

To Jesus Christ.

The One who would perfectly obey.

The One who would perfectly trust.

The One who would perfectly save.

Heart Check

As I closed my Bible, one question lingered in my heart:

In what areas of my life would I rather have answers than God Himself?

Where am I asking for certainty instead of trust?

Where am I asking for a roadmap instead of a relationship?

Like Manoah, we often think we need more information.

But God knows what we truly need.

We need Him.

His character.

His wisdom.

His presence.

His promises.

Because in the end:

Knowing God is better than having all the answers.

Behold Him, not me.

June 20, 2026 2

He Told Her All His Heart

“Then he told her all his heart…”
— Judges 16:17

I’ve read the story of Samson and Delilah many times.

Like many people, I often focused on the obvious lessons—the danger of temptation, Samson’s pride, Delilah’s betrayal, or the cutting of his hair. But this morning, one small phrase stopped me in my tracks:

“Then he told her all his heart.”

Suddenly, Samson felt less like a larger-than-life judge and more like a deeply lonely man.

Behind all the strength, bravado, and reckless choices was someone desperately craving intimacy.

Samson wanted to be known.

He wanted to be loved.

He wanted someone to hold his heart.

The tragedy is not that Samson desired intimacy. God created us for relationship. The tragedy is that Samson sought from Delilah what he could only receive from God.

Isn’t that often our story too?

How often do we go to people first for validation, security, comfort, approval, or identity? We carry empty places in our hearts and expect spouses, friends, children, ministry, success, or relationships to fill what only God was ever meant to satisfy.

Psalm 118:8 reminds us:

“It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man.”

The problem isn’t loving people.

The problem is asking people to be what only God can be.

When we come to others looking for them to fill our deepest needs, we eventually place a weight on them they were never designed to carry. But when we first come to the Lord, allowing Him to satisfy our hearts with His steadfast love, we are free to love others not out of need but out of service.

That is exactly what Samson never learned.

Many of us were taught that Samson’s strength was somehow hidden in his hair. Almost as if his hair possessed some magical power. But Scripture tells a different story.

After Delilah had his head shaved, Samson awoke expecting to defeat the Philistines once again.

“But he did not know that the Lord had left him.” (Judges 16:20)

The hair was never the source of his strength.

The Lord was.

Psalm 28:7 says:

“The Lord is my strength and my shield.”

Samson’s strength did not leave when his hair was cut.

His strength left when the presence of the Lord departed.

As I reflected on this passage, my mind kept returning to Psalm 118. Again and again the psalmist repeats truths we need to hear:

“The Lord is on my side.”

“The Lord is my helper.”

“The Lord is my strength.”

“His steadfast love endures forever.”

The Christian life is not about becoming stronger versions of ourselves.

It is about learning to depend on the One who is already strong.

Unlike Samson, we do not need to rip city gates from their hinges and carry them up a mountain. We do not need to prove ourselves through our own strength.

Instead, we are invited to enter the gates of the Lord with thanksgiving, humility, and trust.

The steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.

And because it does, we can bring Him our whole hearts.

As I closed my Bible this morning, I realized that Samson’s story isn’t only a warning for me—it’s a mirror.

Like Samson, I know what it is to crave being seen. I know what it is to long to be known, understood, chosen, and loved. There are days when I look to people for what I should first seek from God. Days when the approval of others feels more tangible than His presence. Days when I wish someone would notice the burdens I carry without me having to speak them aloud.

And if I’m being honest, sometimes the presence of the Lord doesn’t feel like enough.

Not because He isn’t enough, but because my heart is still learning to believe that He is.

That is part of living in a broken world. We were created for perfect fellowship with God, yet we live east of Eden, still feeling the ache of longing, loneliness, and unmet desires.

This morning I found myself praying:

“Lord, return to me the joy of my salvation. Remind me that You are my refuge and my strength. Teach me to wait patiently for You. When I am tempted to run to others for what can only be found in You, turn my heart back toward Your steadfast love. Hear my cry and turn to me. Let me find in You what I keep searching for everywhere else.”

The good news is that unlike Delilah, the Lord never betrays the heart that is entrusted to Him.

His steadfast love truly does endure forever.

June 10, 2026 0

Behold God, Not Me

Judges 12-13, Infertility, Idolatry, and the Deception of Sin

One of the things I love most about studying God’s Word verse by verse is that it often confronts me in places I didn’t expect.

Recently, I found myself praying and talking with a friend about a struggle that has resurfaced many times throughout my life: infertility.

For twelve years, my husband and I prayed for a child. Then, in His kindness and perfect timing, God gave us Jackson. What a gift he has been. Yet as Jackson approaches eight years old, our family has not grown in the way I once assumed it would.

Like many women, I was told that once you have one child, having more often becomes easier. That has not been our story.

And if I’m honest, there are days when grief sneaks in.

I see beautiful growing families around me. I celebrate them sincerely because every child is a gift from God. Working in foster care has only deepened that conviction. There is not a single child I believe was born outside the knowledge and purpose of our good Father.

Yet sometimes I still find myself asking, “Lord, why?”

Why do some families grow effortlessly while others wait?

Why are some prayers answered quickly while others seem to linger unanswered?

As always, when I earnestly seek the Lord about the condition of my heart, He faithfully meets me in His Word.

Some Are Increased, Others Are Diminished

As I was studying the minor judges in Judges 12, I noticed an interesting contrast.

Ibzan had thirty sons and thirty daughters (Judges 12:9).

Earlier in Judges, Jair also had thirty sons.

Yet Jephthah had only one child—a daughter—and through his foolish vow and tragic actions, she never married and left no descendants.

Seventeenth-century commentator Matthew Henry observed:

“Some are increased, others are diminished; both are the Lord’s doing.”

Those words are not easy to accept.

Our hearts naturally want explanations.

We want formulas.

We want reasons.

We want to know why God gives one person abundance while another experiences loss.

Yet Scripture repeatedly reminds us that God’s wisdom exceeds our own.

Isaiah tells us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)

That was exactly the reminder my heart needed.

God knows what He is doing.

God knows me.

God knows what will bring Him glory.

God knows what will make me more like Christ.

And that must be enough.

The Forgotten Judges and the God Who Is Remembered

As I continued reading, I noticed something else.

The Bible gives us only a few details about Ibzan, Elon and Abdon. We learn how long they judged Israel. We learn a few facts about their families. Then their stories end.

At first glance, it almost feels unsatisfying.

We want more details.

We want their stories fully told.

But perhaps that discomfort reveals something about us.

Isn’t that what we want for ourselves?

We want to leave a legacy.

We want to be remembered.

We want our stories to matter.

Yet Scripture consistently directs our attention elsewhere.

The Bible is not ultimately about human greatness.

It is about God’s greatness.

The focus of Scripture is not the lives of judges, kings, prophets, or even ordinary believers.

The focus is Christ.

Every page points to Him.

Even Abdon’s wealth and the mention of his sons riding on donkeys subtly remind us of a greater King who would one day ride into Jerusalem on a donkey, fulfilling prophecy and declaring His kingship.

The judges fade into the background.

Christ remains.

And that leads me to ask an uncomfortable question:

Does my life say, “Behold me,” or “Behold God”?

Character profiles of the 3 Minor Judges discussed

The Beginning of the Final Cycle

As we enter Judges 13, we begin the final cycle of the book.

The chapter opens with familiar words:

“And the people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord.”

We have seen this refrain over and over throughout Judges.

The people sin.

God disciplines them.

They cry out.

God delivers them.

Then the cycle repeats.

Yet there is something particularly significant about this final occurrence.

The phrase “evil in the sight of the Lord” highlights a truth our culture desperately needs to hear.

Notice what the text does not say.

It does not say Israel did what was evil in their own eyes.

In fact, later in Judges we encounter another repeated phrase:

“Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”

The two statements are connected.

The Israelites did not wake up every morning thinking, “Today I will rebel against God.”

They believed their choices were reasonable.

Understandable.

Justified.

Acceptable.

In their own eyes, much of their behavior probably seemed perfectly fine.

Yet God saw things differently.

And therein lies the danger.

What Is Sin?

This passage teaches us something foundational about sin.

Sin is not ultimately defined by my feelings.

Sin is not determined by cultural approval.

Sin is not established by majority opinion.

Sin is not measured by whether my conscience happens to bother me.

Sin is defined by God.

Something is sinful because it violates God’s will and God’s design.

This truth directly contradicts modern thinking.

Our culture continually tells us:

“Follow your heart.”

“Live your truth.”

“You define what is right for you.”

But Scripture says something very different.

If morality is determined only by personal perception, then no one can meaningfully condemn evil.

History itself demonstrates the flaw in that thinking.

People can sincerely believe terrible things.

Groups of people can collectively justify horrific actions.

Human perception is not a trustworthy standard.

Only God is.

The eyes that ultimately matter are not my eyes.

They are God’s.

The Deception of Sin

The second truth we learn is how deceptive sin really is.

The Israelites had convinced themselves they were fine.

They had explanations.

Rationalizations.

Justifications.

At the conscious level, everything seemed acceptable.

But beneath the surface, they had drifted far from God.

That should concern all of us because we are no different.

The most dangerous sins are often not the obvious ones.

The most dangerous sins are the ones we have learned to justify.

Pride.

Bitterness.

Materialism.

Worry.

Control.

Self-reliance.

These sins rarely look sinful in our own eyes.

And this is where the Lord began pressing on my own heart.

When Good Desires Become Ultimate Desires

As I thought about my longing for more children, I realized something uncomfortable.

The desire itself is not sinful.

Children are a blessing.

Family is a gift.

Wanting those things is good.

But good things become idols when they become ultimate things.

The line between loving something and worshiping something is often thinner than we realize.

And I began to wonder:

Had I crossed that line?

Had my desire for more children subtly become a demand?

Was I saying, “God, I know what would be best for my life”?

Was I acting as though God’s gifts were somehow insufficient?

Was I placing myself in the judge’s seat?

Because when I insist that God must give me what I want in order for His plan to be good, I am no longer trusting Him.

I am attempting to replace Him.

That is the essence of idolatry.

An idol is not always a bad thing.

More often, it is a good thing that has become an ultimate thing.

Tim Keller famously described idols as good things turned into god things.

Family can become an idol.

Ministry can become an idol.

Work can become an idol.

Even motherhood can become an idol.

Anything we place above trustful submission to God becomes a rival to Him.

As the Puritan Thomas Brooks wisely wrote:

“Satan paints sin with virtue’s colors.”

The idol never announces itself as an idol.

It disguises itself as wisdom.

Responsibility.

Love.

Good stewardship.

Common sense.

And before we realize it, our hearts have drifted.

Behold God

That is why we must constantly evaluate ourselves through Scripture.

Not through culture.

Not through emotions.

Not through popular opinion.

Through God’s Word.

The Word reveals what our hearts often hide.

And when it does, our response should not be despair.

It should be worship.

Because the goal of our lives is not ultimately to get everything we want.

The goal is not to have our preferred story.

The goal is not even to be remembered.

The goal is to behold God.

The minor judges came and went.

Their stories occupy only a few verses.

Yet God’s purposes prevailed.

Their significance was not found in the size of their role.

It was found in the God who authored the story.

The same is true for us.

Whether God increases or diminishes.

Whether He gives or withholds.

Whether our stories look ordinary or extraordinary.

He remains worthy.

And so today, I find myself returning once again to Isaiah 55.

His ways are higher than my ways.

His thoughts are higher than my thoughts.

He knows what is best.

He knows my heart.

He is trustworthy.

And when I preach that truth to myself, it changes everything.

Behold Him, not me.

June 8, 2026 0

When Broken People Read Scripture Wrong: Jephthah, Grace, and Learning to Read the Bible Carefully

There is something both comforting and deeply unsettling about the story of Jephthah in Judges 10–11.

Comforting, because God uses a rejected and broken man.
Unsettling, because that same man carries distorted beliefs about God that lead to devastating consequences.

For many women learning to study Scripture faithfully — especially young mothers, homeschool moms, women rebuilding after hardship, or believers new to the faith — Jephthah’s story becomes more than history. It becomes a mirror.

Because one of the hardest truths to learn as Christians is this:

We can know some truth about God while still misunderstanding Him deeply in other places.

And if we are not careful readers of Scripture, we can begin mixing biblical truth with cultural assumptions, personal wounds, fear, and worldly thinking.

That is exactly what happens in the life of Jephthah.

God Raises an Unlikely Savior

Jephthah is introduced in Judges 11 as a mighty warrior. But immediately we are told something painful about him:

He was the son of a prostitute.

His half-brothers drove him away from the family home, rejecting him and cutting him off from inheritance and belonging. He grew up as an outcast, living in the wilderness surrounded by what Scripture calls “worthless fellows” — essentially a band of violent men and raiders.

Humanly speaking, Jephthah is not the kind of man anyone would expect God to use.

And yet God does.

This is one of the repeated themes throughout the book of Judges: God continually rescues His people through deeply flawed deliverers.

Why?

Because the judges were never meant to be ultimate saviors. They were shadows pointing forward to the true Savior still to come — Jesus Christ.

Jephthah’s rejection points us toward Christ, who was also rejected by His own people.
Jephthah’s suffering prepared him to lead hurting people.
His strength in battle reflected Israel’s need for deliverance.

But unlike Jesus, Jephthah was deeply sinful and spiritually confused.

And Scripture does not hide that from us.

Learning Context Matters

One of the biggest mistakes new believers often make when reading the Bible is assuming that because the Bible describes something, God therefore approves of it.

But biblical narrative does not always equal biblical endorsement.

The book of Judges especially shows us what life looks like when “everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).

The stories become darker and darker intentionally.

Judges is not simply recording heroic stories. It is showing the spiritual collapse of Israel when people drift from God’s Word.

That context matters tremendously when reading Jephthah’s tragic vow.

Jephthah’s Strength — and His Blindness

Before battle with the Ammonites, Jephthah actually shows surprising wisdom.

Instead of immediately rushing into war, he first pursues peace. He sends messengers, reasons carefully through Israel’s history, and presents legal, theological, and historical arguments explaining why the Ammonites are in the wrong.

This matters because it shows Jephthah was not merely a reckless brute. He understood leadership, diplomacy, and negotiation.

God had even shaped his painful background into useful strength.

His suffering formed resilience.
His exile formed toughness.
His wilderness years formed leadership.

Sometimes the hardest parts of our lives become the very places God uses most powerfully.

But giftedness is not the same thing as spiritual maturity.

And this is where careful Bible reading becomes so important.

Because right after displaying wisdom, Jephthah makes one of the most horrific vows in all of Scripture.

The Terrible Vow

Judges 11:29 says:

“Then the Spirit of the Lord was upon Jephthah…”

That detail matters.

God had already determined to give victory.

The outcome was never dependent on Jephthah bargaining with God.

Yet Jephthah vows that if God gives him victory, he will sacrifice whatever first comes from his house upon returning home.

And tragically, his daughter comes out first.

This is one of the moments where Christians must slow down and read carefully.

Some try to soften the text into something symbolic. Others suggest his daughter was merely devoted to lifelong service.

But the passage itself points toward something far darker and more tragic.

Why would Jephthah even make such a vow?

Because although he knew about God, he still thought about God in many pagan ways.

When We Mix God With The World

The surrounding pagan cultures practiced human sacrifice. Their gods were viewed as beings who had to be manipulated, impressed, or bribed through extravagant offerings.

Jephthah had absorbed some of that thinking.

And if we are honest, we often do the same thing.

Not usually through violence or sacrifice — but through worldly beliefs about success, beauty, money, relationships, motherhood, control, or worth.

We often say we believe grace…

Yet live as though God’s love must constantly be earned.

We assume:

God will love us more if we perform better.
God is pleased only when we are productive.
God’s blessing depends entirely on our perfection.
Rest must be earned.
Weakness disqualifies us.

That is not the gospel.

And that is why studying Scripture carefully matters.

Because if we are not rooted deeply in God’s Word, culture will disciple us instead.

Romans 12:2 warns:

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”

Jephthah’s tragedy is not merely that he made a foolish vow.

It is that he fundamentally misunderstood the character of God.

Grace Is Harder To Believe Than Rules

Perhaps the saddest part of the story is this:

Even after realizing the horror of his vow, Jephthah still seems unable to trust God’s mercy enough to repent and stop.

Why?

Because he does not truly understand grace.

He seems trapped by fear — believing God must be appeased rather than trusted.

And honestly, many believers live there too.

Grace feels unsafe to us.

We would often rather manage God through rules than trust Him relationally.

But the gospel tells us something radically different:

God’s favor cannot be bought.

The Father already decided to rescue His people long before Jephthah made his vow. Likewise, Christ came for sinners before we cleaned ourselves up.

Jesus is the better Judge.

Where Jephthah sacrificed his daughter because of his sinful misunderstanding, God the Father willingly gave His own Son out of perfect love and perfect wisdom to save sinners.

One sacrifice brought death through human sin.
The other brought life through divine grace.

How Do We Read Scripture Faithfully?

Stories like this teach us several important principles for Bible study:

1. Read passages in context

Never isolate verses from the larger story of Scripture.

2. Distinguish description from approval

The Bible often records sinful actions honestly without endorsing them.

3. Let clearer passages interpret difficult ones

Scripture already clearly condemns human sacrifice elsewhere.

4. Study God’s character across the whole Bible

One distorted view of God can shape an entire life wrongly.

5. Read humbly

Every culture has blind spots. We need Scripture constantly correcting us.

A Final Encouragement For Christian Women

If you are new to studying Scripture, please do not be discouraged by difficult passages like this.

Lean into them.

Some of the deepest growth happens when we slow down, ask questions, study context, and allow Scripture to reshape how we think about God.

The goal of Bible study is not merely gathering information.

It is learning to know the Lord rightly.

And that matters because what we believe about God shapes everything:

how we mother,
how we endure suffering,
how we handle failure,
how we rest,
how we repent,
and how we love others.

Jephthah’s story is tragic.

But even tragedies in Scripture are gracious warnings meant to draw us closer to the true Savior — the One who does not manipulate, crush, or abandon His people, but lovingly redeems them through grace.

June 6, 2026 0

When Success Becomes More Dangerous Than Failure

Lessons from Gideon for Christian Women Seeking Faithfulness

“We need to remember we are saved by grace when we fail, but we need to remember it much more when we succeed.” — Tim Keller

The last few days in my verse-by-verse study through the book of Book of Judges have pressed this truth deeply into my heart.

When we think of spiritual danger, we often think of failure. Falling into sin. Wandering from God. Seasons of weakness. But Gideon’s story reminds us that success may actually be the greater threat to our souls.

God Reduced the Army by 99%

When Gideon marched into battle against Midian, he did not go in strong.

He went in weak.

God intentionally reduced Gideon’s army from thousands down to only 300 men. The Lord stripped away every earthly reason Israel could boast in themselves.

What power there is in that truth.

Imagine what God can do with one percent.

In the Book of Judges, chapter 7, the Israelites marched into battle not with military strength, but with trumpets, jars, and torches. And when the jars shattered and the trumpets sounded, the Lord caused the enemy camp to turn against itself.

The battle belonged entirely to God.

Gideon should have walked away from that battlefield saying:

“This victory was the Lord’s. My role was simply to trust and obey.”

And honestly, I understand this personally.

Recently, in my own work advocating for vulnerable children and families, I found myself sitting at a table with attorneys, professionals, and a judge. I come from a background very different from many of my peers. I was raised in poverty and abuse. I do not have prestigious credentials or a polished résumé.

What I do have is a testimony.

I know the power of God.

And when the Lord allows even a small victory in my work, I have to consciously preach the gospel back to myself:

“This did not come from me.”

God uses what is weak to shame what is strong.

At the end of our lunch together, everyone stood to leave, and there was an unspoken assumption that I would clean the table and bus the dishes.

The world would call that offensive.

Pride would say:
“You deserve more honor than this.”

But as I carried the dishes away, I sensed the quiet kindness of God reminding me:

“This is good for you.”

And truly, it was.

Because humility guards the heart in ways success never can.

Serving keeps us close to Christ.

Gideon Forgot What Grace Had Done

As we move into chapter 8, Gideon begins changing.

And the shift is subtle at first.

When the tribe of Ephraim complains that Gideon did not call them into battle sooner, Gideon answers diplomatically and gently. He calms their anger with humility.

At first glance, this looks godly.

But the next interaction reveals something deeper.

When the towns of Succoth and Penuel refuse to help Gideon’s exhausted men, Gideon erupts in anger and vengeance. He threatens punishment. Later, after his victory, he returns and carries out brutal revenge against his own people.

Why the different response?

Because Ephraim wounded Gideon’s pride gently.

Succoth and Penuel wounded it directly.

And suddenly we begin to see that Gideon’s heart has shifted from dependence on God to dependence on his own honor.

The man who once hid in a winepress trembling now expects recognition.

The man who once begged God for reassurance now lashes out when others do not respect him.

Success revealed what was already growing in Gideon’s heart.

The Danger of Spiritual Success

There is a terrible danger in success.

Not because success itself is sinful, but because our hearts are desperate to believe we earned it.

We begin by thanking God for the victory.

Then slowly we begin protecting our reputation.

Defending our influence.

Needing recognition.

Wanting respect.

And before long, we are no longer serving God’s kingdom.

We are building our own.

Gideon forgot that God called him.
God equipped him.
God reassured him.
God won the battle.

And sisters, we forget too.

We forget that every good work we do was prepared beforehand by God.

We forget that faithfulness itself is grace.

We forget that motherhood, ministry, leadership, hospitality, encouragement, advocacy, teaching, and service are not trophies we earned, but gifts we were entrusted with.

Ephesians 2:8-10

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

We Still Build Ephods

One of the saddest moments in Gideon’s story comes after he refuses kingship.

Outwardly, Gideon says the right thing:

“The Lord will rule over you.”

But immediately afterward, Gideon begins living like a king anyway.

He gathers wealth.
He elevates himself.
He creates an ephod that becomes a snare to Israel.

In other words:
he rejected the title while embracing the glory.

And if we are honest, we often do the same.

We say:
“All glory to God.”

But inwardly we crave recognition.

We want to be the one people admire.
The one people need.
The one people look to for answers.

Ministry can quietly become self-salvation.

Motherhood can become identity worship.

Even serving others can become another way of trying to prove our worth.

We still build ephods.

Look to the Better Judge

But Gideon was never meant to be the final deliverer.

Like every judge in Scripture, he points us forward to a better Savior:
Jesus Christ.

Unlike Gideon, Jesus did not use His authority to demand honor.

Though He was King, He came as a servant.

Though He deserved glory, He washed feet.

Though He had every right to be exalted, He humbled Himself to death on a cross.

Jesus Christ did not come to be served, but to serve and give His life as a ransom for many.

And because of that, we are finally free.

Free from needing applause.
Free from proving ourselves.
Free from being crushed by failure.
Free from becoming intoxicated by success.

The gospel liberates us from both pride and despair.

A Final Encouragement

Friend, maybe God has recently given you victory in some area of life.

Maybe your marriage is flourishing.
Maybe ministry is growing.
Maybe motherhood feels fruitful.
Maybe people are finally recognizing your gifts.

Praise God for those things! Success can either deepen worship or feed self-glory.

It is well for us to serve.
It is well for us to be humbled.
It is well for us to remember that we are creatures, not the Creator.

So today, ask yourself:

Are there areas of my life where I am subtly seeking honor that belongs to God alone?
And how does the servant-heartedness of Christ free me from turning success into self-salvation?

May we never forget:
the victory belongs to the Lord.

May 30, 2026 0

When Faith Feels Weak: What Gideon Teaches Us About Knowing God Through His Word

Are We Letting Scripture Shape Us?

One of the greatest dangers for Christians today is not always outright rebellion against God—it is slowly drifting into a faith where our emotions, assumptions, culture, and personal experiences begin shaping our understanding of Him more than His Word does.

This can happen so subtly.

We stop opening our Bibles consistently. We rely more on inspirational content than Scripture itself. We begin approaching God through our feelings instead of allowing His truth to inform our hearts. And before long, we can find ourselves asking questions about God that reveal just how little we truly know of His character.

This is exactly why the story of Gideon in Book of Judges chapter 6 is so encouraging for weary believers, young women in the faith, busy mothers, and even mature Christians who may have grown distant from daily time in God’s Word.

Because Gideon’s story is not ultimately about a brave man—it is about a gracious God who patiently reveals Himself to weak and fearful people.

“If God Is Really With Us…”

When we first meet Gideon in Judges 6, Israel is suffering under Midianite oppression because they had abandoned the Lord and turned toward false gods.

Gideon’s response to the angel of the Lord sounds strikingly familiar:

“Please, my lord, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us?”
— Judges 6:13

How many of us have quietly asked the same question?

If God is with me, why is motherhood so exhausting? Why does suffering continue? Why does obedience feel costly? Why does life feel heavy? Why are prayers unanswered?

Gideon struggled to reconcile his circumstances with the promises of God. Yet what is remarkable is that God does not respond harshly to Gideon’s weakness.

Instead, the Lord answers:

“Go in this might of yours… do not I send you?”
— Judges 6:14

God was already at work accomplishing His purposes through a man who felt weak, fearful, and inadequate.

And that should deeply encourage us.

Because throughout Scripture, God has never required perfect strength from His people before using them. He calls us to trust Him in the midst of our weakness.

God Reveals Himself to Weak Faith

One of the most comforting parts of this chapter is seeing how patient God is with Gideon.

After encountering the angel of the Lord, Gideon becomes afraid and believes he may die. But the Lord reassures him:

“Peace be to you. Do not fear; you shall not die.”
— Judges 6:23

The Lord was not pushing Gideon away because his faith was weak. He was drawing him closer.

This matters because many Christians wrongly assume that struggling believers are immediately met with frustration from God. But throughout Scripture we repeatedly see the Lord patiently strengthening weak faith.

That does not mean God celebrates unbelief. But it does mean He is compassionate toward those who genuinely desire to know Him and trust Him more fully.

Before Public Victory Came Private Obedience

After comforting Gideon, God gives him a difficult command.

In Judges 6:25–26, Gideon is told to tear down his father’s altar to Baal, cut down the Asherah pole beside it, and build an altar to the Lord in its place.

This was a bold act of obedience.

The bull being sacrificed symbolized devotion to Baal, the false god Israel had been worshiping. By tearing down these idols, Gideon publicly declared that the gods Israel trusted were powerless.

But before God would use Gideon to deliver Israel publicly, Gideon first had to obey privately.

And honestly, this is where many of us struggle too.

Sometimes the idols in our lives are not obvious statues or pagan altars. Sometimes they are comfort, control, approval from others, entertainment, political identity, self-sufficiency, busyness, or even our own feelings.

When we neglect God’s Word long enough, we slowly begin creating a version of God that fits our preferences rather than submitting ourselves to who He truly is.

Scripture was never meant to conform to us.

We are meant to be conformed by Scripture.

What About Gideon and the Fleece?

One of the most misunderstood parts of Gideon’s story is the sign of the fleece in Judges 6:36–40.

Many people use this passage to justify asking God for random signs:

“Lord, if you want me to take this job, let someone call me today.”

But Tim Keller points out in Judges For You that Gideon was not asking for vague personal signs to help him make ordinary decisions.

Gideon was specifically asking God to reveal His nature.

Baal was believed to be a storm and fertility god tied to nature. Gideon’s request involving dew and dry ground was actually asking God to demonstrate that He alone was sovereign over creation itself.

Gideon’s faith was weak, but his questioning was leading him toward a deeper understanding of who God truly was.

That distinction matters.

Because there is a difference between demanding signs from God out of unbelief and asking God to strengthen weak faith through greater understanding of His character.

We Have What Gideon Longed For

One of the most humbling realities in this passage is recognizing that Gideon did not have what believers today possess.

He did not have the completed Word of God.

He did not know Christ as we do now.

He did not have the ordinary means of grace God has given the Church through Scripture, Christian fellowship, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper.

Hebrews 1:1–2 says:

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last he has spoken to us by his Son…”

Gideon’s request was to help build up his faith. God in his Grace responded twice and when we make the same request – God graciously responds by pointing us to the fullest and final revelation of his character and his purposes – the Lord Jesus.

When we find ourselves doubting God’s promises or God’s presence, we can ask him to point us again to his son saying, “I do believe help me overcome my unbelief” (Mark 924). This is what Gideon needed and received. God will do the same for us.

Are there parts of your life today where you need to ask God to point you to his son so that you can trust more fully in His promises?

May 23, 2026 0

When We Let the Text Speak: Deborah, Barak, and the Importance of Faithful Hermeneutics

There is something both humbling and beautiful about coming to Scripture only to realize we may have been reading our assumptions into the text all along.

Recently, while studying Judges 4 and 5, I found myself doing exactly that.

For years, I had heard — and repeated — the common interpretation that Deborah had to step into leadership because Barak was weak, fearful, or unwilling to obey God without her. It is such a common conclusion that many of us barely stop to ask whether the text itself actually says that.

But when I slowed down, prayed, studied carefully, compared translations, looked into the original language, considered the historical context, and read the surrounding passages alongside Hebrews 11, I realized something important:

The text never explicitly says Barak lacked faith.

In fact, Hebrews 11 includes Barak among those commended for their faith.

That realization forced me to pause and ask a difficult but necessary question:

Had I allowed cultural assumptions and familiar commentary to speak louder than the actual words of Scripture?

Deborah Was Not an Emergency Substitute

One of the most striking observations in Judges 4 is that Deborah is already introduced as a leader before Barak even appears in the narrative.

Judges 4:4 identifies Deborah as both a prophetess and a judge in Israel. She was not functioning as a temporary stand-in because no man was available. Scripture presents her as someone God Himself had raised up and appointed.

She held court under the palm of Deborah, where the people of Israel came to her for judgment and counsel. This was not a queen’s throne, but a courtroom. Israel trusted her wisdom, discernment, and leadership.

Unlike many of the judges before and after her, Deborah did not primarily lead through military strength or physical might. She led through wisdom, discernment, character, and faithful proclamation of God’s Word.

We see this clearly in Judges 4:6 when she tells Barak:

“The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you…”

As a prophetess, Deborah faithfully declared the Word of God. She counseled, guided, and judged the people. In many ways, she comes closer than any judge before the monarchy to modeling a ruler who shepherds with wisdom and righteousness.

Deborah’s role should not be minimized simply because Barak also played a role in God’s deliverance.

The text honors both.

The Danger of Bringing Assumptions Into Scripture

As women especially, I think many of us have been quick to frame Deborah’s story as proof that she only led because Barak failed.

But that interpretation may reveal more about our assumptions than about the text itself.

When Barak tells Deborah in Judges 4:8:

“If you will go with me, I will go, but if you will not go with me, I will not go,”

many immediately read cowardice or disobedience into his response.

And certainly, some respected commentators understand the passage that way.

But others note that Deborah’s response in verse 9 can also be translated differently. Rather than being a rebuke, it may simply be a prophetic statement that the honor for Sisera’s defeat would ultimately go to a woman.

That distinction matters.

Because if Barak is not being rebuked, then his request for Deborah’s presence may actually demonstrate faith rather than unbelief.

After all, why would he not want the Lord’s prophet with him as he marched into battle against overwhelming odds?

Hebrews 11 forced me to wrestle honestly with this possibility. Scripture itself commends Barak’s faith. That means we should be careful not to build an interpretation that ultimately contradicts the broader testimony of God’s Word.

Faithful Hermeneutics Requires Humility

This study reminded me how important good hermeneutics truly are.

Hermeneutics simply means the way we interpret Scripture.

It means asking questions of the text instead of assuming we already know the answers. It means studying passages in context. It means comparing Scripture with Scripture. It means considering grammar, historical background, original language, genre, and surrounding passages. Most importantly, it means approaching God’s Word prayerfully and humbly, willing to be corrected.

So often we come to the Bible looking for confirmation instead of truth.

We read through lenses shaped by culture, church traditions, personal experiences, social media discussions, or popular teaching. Sometimes we inherit interpretations we have never personally examined.

But faithful Bible study requires us to slow down enough to let the text speak for itself.

Not forcing Scripture to fit our narrative.

Not reading motives into people that God Himself never states.

Not minimizing one person in order to elevate another.

Simply letting God say what He intended to say.

The Glory Ultimately Belongs to God

One of the most beautiful things about Judges 4 and 5 is that there is not just one human hero.

There is Deborah.
There is Barak.
There is Jael.

And yet Judges 5 makes clear where the true glory belongs.

To the Lord.

The Lord is the One who delivered Israel.

The Lord is the One who routed Sisera.

The Lord is the One who used ordinary people in different ways for His purposes.

Deborah ruled and counseled.
Barak obeyed and fought.
Jael struck the final blow.

But God alone secured the victory.

Isn’t that often how the Lord works?

He delights in using different people with different gifts for the accomplishment of His purposes so that no single person can claim the glory for themselves.

A Final Encouragement

One of the greatest acts of spiritual maturity is allowing Scripture to challenge us.

Not defending our assumptions.
Not clinging to familiar interpretations.
Not reading quickly.
Not approaching God’s Word to prove a point.

But prayerfully opening the Bible and saying:

“Lord, help me see what is actually there.”

The more I study Scripture, the more I realize how dangerous it can be to approach the text with conclusions already in place.

Good hermeneutics is not cold academics.
It is an act of humility.

It is loving God enough to want His meaning more than our own opinions.

And sometimes, faithful study means being willing to say:

“I may have gotten this wrong before.”

That is not weakness.

That is reverence for the Word of God.

May 16, 2026 0

When Convenience Replaces Obedience: A Lesson from Judges 1:28–36

In Book of Judges 1:28–36, we encounter a quiet but dangerous pattern in the life of Israel—partial obedience. God had clearly commanded His people to drive out the inhabitants of the land. This wasn’t arbitrary; it was for their protection, knowing their weakness and tendency to fall into idolatry.

But instead of fully obeying, the Israelites chose a different path.

Again and again, the text tells us they did not drive them out. Instead, they subjected the people to forced labor. From a human perspective, it made sense. It was efficient. Economically beneficial. Less costly. Less exhausting.

But it wasn’t obedience.

As Timothy Keller insightfully puts it, here we see that “convenience trumps obedience.” What felt practical in the moment became a spiritual compromise with long-term consequences. The very people they allowed to remain would later become a snare.

Even more striking is what we read about the tribe of Dan. In Judges 1:34–35, the Amorites pressed them back into the hill country. There’s no indication that the enemy was stronger or better equipped. Instead, it appears they simply had greater resolve. Those who did not know God showed more determination than those who did.

That contrast should stop us in our tracks.

A Pattern Repeated Throughout Scripture

This isn’t an isolated moment. Scripture repeatedly shows us the subtle drift from obedience to compromise.

Consider First Book of Samuel 15. God commands King Saul to completely destroy the Amalekites. Instead, Saul spares King Agag and keeps the best of the livestock. His justification? It would be used for sacrifice to the Lord.

It sounded spiritual—but it was disobedience dressed up as worship.

The prophet Samuel’s response is piercing: “To obey is better than sacrifice.” (1 Samuel 15:22)

Saul chose what seemed reasonable over what God required.

Or look at Book of Genesis 3. Adam and Eve were given one command—do not eat from the tree. Yet when temptation came, the fruit appeared “good,” “pleasing,” and “desirable.” Convenience, desire, and reasoning overruled obedience.

The result? Separation, brokenness, and the entrance of sin into the world.

In Book of Numbers 20, Moses—faithful leader of Israel—strikes the rock instead of speaking to it as God commanded. It may have seemed like a small deviation, especially under pressure. But partial obedience is still disobedience. Even Moses experienced the consequence of not fully honoring God’s instruction.

And in the New Testament, we see a powerful example in Acts of the Apostles 5. Ananias and Sapphira sell property but secretly withhold part of the proceeds while presenting it as the full amount. Their sin wasn’t in keeping some—it was in the deception. They wanted the appearance of obedience without the cost of it.

The Danger of “Almost”

What ties these accounts together is not outright rebellion, but something more subtle—almost obedience.

Israel didn’t reject God—they just didn’t go all the way.
Saul didn’t ignore God—he adjusted the command.
Adam and Eve didn’t abandon God—they doubted His word.
Moses didn’t defy God publicly—he altered the method.
Ananias and Sapphira didn’t refuse to give—they pretended to give fully.

In each case, convenience, reasoning, fear, or desire quietly replaced trust-filled obedience.

And the consequences were never small.

A Call to Examine Our Own Hearts

The truth is, we’re not so different.

We may not be conquering lands or ruling nations, but we face daily choices where obedience to God conflicts with what is easier, faster, or more comfortable.

Choosing silence instead of speaking truth.
Prioritizing comfort over calling.
Justifying small compromises because they “make sense.”
Trusting our logic over God’s Word.

Like Israel, we can convince ourselves that partial obedience is enough.

But God doesn’t call us to what is convenient—He calls us to what is faithful.

Obedience Requires Dependence

Judges 1 reminds us of something critical: God’s commands are not given because we are strong enough, but because He is faithful enough.

Israel’s failure wasn’t just military—it was spiritual. They relied on their own reasoning instead of God’s power.

And we’re prone to do the same.

True obedience flows from dependence. It says:

God, Your way is better—even when it’s harder.
Your wisdom is greater—even when I don’t understand.
Your commands are for my good—even when they cost me something.

Final Reflection

Where in your life has convenience quietly replaced obedience?

Where have you settled for “almost” instead of fully trusting God?

The call of Scripture is clear: not partial obedience, not delayed obedience, not convenient obedience—but wholehearted, faithful surrender.

Because in the end, obedience isn’t about restriction—it’s about trust.

And trust in God is never misplaced.

May 9, 2026 0

When You Forget Who God Is: A Gentle Return to Psalm 103

There are days when faith feels steady… and days when it feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion of motherhood.
Maybe it’s the weight of unanswered prayers.
Maybe it’s just the quiet doubt that creeps in when life doesn’t look how you thought it would.

And in those moments, we don’t just need encouragement—we need truth.

That’s exactly where Psalm 103 meets us.

More Than Forgiveness

In verses 3–5, we’re given a breathtaking picture of God’s heart:

He forgives—yes.
But He doesn’t stop there.

He redeems your life from the pit.
He restores what feels broken.
He crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.

God is not doing the bare minimum in your life. He is abundantly, intentionally caring for you—even in ways you don’t yet see.

Who God Is (Even When Life Feels Uncertain)

As the psalm continues, we’re reminded of truths that don’t shift with our circumstances:

God is patient by nature (v. 8)
He does not treat us as our sins deserve (v. 10)
His forgiveness is complete and final (v. 12)
His compassion is relational, not distant (v. 13)
He knows your weakness (v. 14)
His mercy is continuous, not temporary (v. 17)
His love is covenant love—steady, committed, unbreaking

This is who God is—not just on your good days, but on your worst ones too.

Worship Isn’t Built on Feelings

Here’s where this psalm gently corrects us:

Worship is not emotional first—it’s theological first.

We don’t worship because we feel close to God.
We worship because He is worthy, whether our feelings cooperate or not.

That truth is freeing.

Because if worship depended on our emotions, we’d all fall short. But it doesn’t—it rests on the unchanging character of God.

The God Who Never Changes

Psalm 103 intentionally echoes Exodus 34:6–7, where God declares His own nature:

“The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love…”

What God proclaimed about Himself then—His people experienced as true.

And it’s still true today.

He has not changed.
Not in your waiting.
Not in your struggles.
Not in your questions.

The Reality We Can’t Ignore

This psalm doesn’t ignore hard truths:

Sin is real.
Judgment is deserved.
Redemption is costly.
Mercy is intentional.

And yet—God chose mercy.

He chose to redeem.
He chose to love.
He chose you.

Oh, How You Are Loved

If you walk away with anything today, let it be this:

You are not held together by your ability to “get it right.”
You are held by a God whose love is steadfast, patient, and unchanging.

So when your feelings waver…
When your strength feels thin…
When you forget who He is…

Come back to Psalm 103.

And remember:

Oh, how you are loved.

May 2, 2026 0

Word Study: Disciple

In Gospel of Mark 3:13–14, we see something powerful about what it means to follow Jesus: He calls, and then He draws near. “He appointed twelve… so that they might be with Him and He might send them out to preach.”

Before anything else—before ministry, impact, or influence—there was presence. They were chosen to be with Him.

The word “disciple” comes from the Greek mathetes, meaning learner or student—someone shaped not just by what a teacher says, but by how they live. Interestingly, while followers of Jesus are called “Christians” only a few times and “believers” a bit more, the word disciple appears over 200 times in Scripture. That repetition matters.

Key verses include: Matthew 28:19, John 8:31, Luke 14:27

Strong’s Number: G3101

A disciple isn’t just someone who believes—it’s someone who follows closely, learns deeply, and is formed daily.

And here’s the tension: we are all being discipled by something. What we give our time, attention, and affection to is quietly shaping who we become.

Jesus shows us the order clearly:
proximity comes before productivity.

So the question isn’t just what are you doing for Christ?
It’s are you with Him?

What might it look like today to sit with Him a little longer, listen a little closer, and follow a little more intentionally?

That’s where true discipleship begins.

April 30, 2026 0