Behold Him, Not Me: Part Three

When We Remake God

Judges 17:1–6

“The most dangerous idols are often the ones we create in God’s name.”

A Note to Readers

As we continue our journey through Judges, some readers may be wondering why there are still five chapters left in the book. After all, Samson was the last of Israel’s twelve judges.

The answer is that the final chapters of Judges are not a continuation of the judges’ cycle. Instead, they serve as a double conclusion to the entire book.

Earlier chapters gave us a bird’s-eye view of Israel’s history. We watched cycles of sin, oppression, repentance, and rescue unfold across generations. We saw judges rise and fall. We witnessed God’s mercy displayed again and again toward a people who continually wandered from Him.

Now the author zooms in.

The final chapters provide a ground-level view of what life actually looked like during those dark days.

These stories are not primarily about foreign enemies.

They are about the spiritual condition of God’s people themselves.

The middle of Judges showed us how God repeatedly rescued Israel.

The final chapters show us what He was rescuing them from.

And what we find is sobering.

Again and again we will hear the refrain:

“In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 17:6)

That verse is not merely describing Israel.

It is describing the human heart apart from God’s rule.

Judges 17 is our first case study.

And what makes this story so unsettling is that it is not a story about atheism.

It is a story about religion.

Lots of religion.

The problem is that it is religion shaped by human preference rather than God’s revelation.

It is worship that looks right but isn’t.

It is devotion that sounds sincere but is fundamentally distorted.

And if we are honest, it is a temptation that remains just as dangerous today.

A Hollow Man

The story begins with a man named Micah from the hill country of Ephraim.

Micah had stolen eleven hundred shekels of silver from his mother. Later, after hearing her pronounce a curse upon the thief, he confesses and returns the money.

At first glance, Micah is difficult to categorize.

He does not appear thoroughly wicked.

After all, he returns the money.

Yet neither does he appear righteous.

A righteous man would never have stolen it in the first place.

The text gives us the impression of a weak man with weak convictions—a man moved more by fear than by conscience.

A man without much moral substance.

Perhaps that is what makes him so relatable.

Most people do not see themselves in Pharaoh.

Or Jezebel.

Or Judas.

But many of us can recognize compromise.

We recognize drift.

We recognize moments when fear of consequences moved us more than love for righteousness.

Micah is not a monster.

He is simply a man doing what seems right in his own eyes.

And that is exactly the problem.

Grace Without Repentance

Micah’s mother responds by reversing her curse and pronouncing a blessing over him.

There is something admirable in her willingness to forgive.

Yet there is also something deeply concerning.

She quickly restores the relationship without ever addressing the deeper issue.

There is blessing.

But no repentance.

Restoration.

But no transformation.

No examination of Micah’s heart.

No discussion of why he stole the money.

No acknowledgment of his need for grace.

No call to humility.

As parents, this is an important warning.

A condemning parent can wound a child.

But an excusing parent can wound a child as well.

True love does not merely remove consequences.

It seeks the transformation of the heart.

Micah’s mother appears eager to move past the offense, but in doing so she misses the opportunity to shepherd her son toward genuine repentance.

And as the story unfolds, we will see that Micah remains exactly the same man he was before.

Forgiveness is beautiful.

But biblical restoration always aims at something deeper than simply making conflict disappear.

It aims at reconciliation with God.

The God We Want vs. The God Who Is

The story takes an unexpected turn when Micah’s mother declares:

“I dedicate this silver to the Lord from my hand for my son, to make a carved image and a metal image.” (Judges 17:3)

If that sounds contradictory, it should.

She claims to dedicate the silver to the Lord.

Then she uses it to violate one of His clearest commands.

God had explicitly forbidden the making of images for worship:

“You shall not make for yourself a carved image…” (Exodus 20:4)

This was not a minor detail in Israel’s faith.

It was the Second Commandment.

So why was God so concerned about images?

The issue was never artistic ability.

The issue was theological accuracy.

Any image of God automatically reveals one aspect of His character while concealing others.

Consider Aaron’s golden calf in the wilderness.

The calf may have symbolized strength and power.

But it could not communicate God’s holiness.

His justice.

His mercy.

His wisdom.

His love.

Every image inevitably distorts what it attempts to represent.

God refuses to be reduced to something fashioned by human hands because He cannot be contained by human imagination.

Yet the deeper problem is not the image itself.

The deeper problem is the heart behind the image.

Worshiping God through images reveals a desire to reshape Him into someone we find more comfortable.

It is an attempt to edit God.

To soften the attributes we dislike.

To emphasize the attributes we prefer.

To create a version of God that fits our expectations.

Tim Keller observed that the fundamental problem behind idolatry is a refusal to let God be Himself.

In modern terms, it is a refusal to submit to God as He has revealed Himself.

And if we’re honest, we do this all the time.

Most of us do not carve idols out of silver.

But we often create versions of God in our minds.

How often have we heard someone say:

“I don’t believe in a God who would do that.”

Or:

“I like to think of God as…”

At first those statements sound thoughtful.

But they reveal something dangerous.

They place us in the position of deciding who God should be.

Instead of allowing Scripture to reveal God to us, we attempt to recreate Him according to our preferences.

Like Micah’s family, we begin shaping God instead of allowing God to shape us.

The Comfortable God

There are many ways we attempt to remake God.

Sometimes we do it intellectually.

We encounter something in Scripture that offends our modern sensibilities, so we quietly dismiss it.

We decide that God could not possibly mean what He says.

After all, our culture has progressed beyond such things.

Yet what we are really saying is that our culture has become the authority rather than God.

Other times we do it psychologically.

We simply avoid the parts of God’s character that make us uncomfortable.

Perhaps we love God’s grace but ignore His holiness.

Perhaps we celebrate His love but avoid His authority.

Perhaps we cling to His promises while neglecting His commands.

Still other times we do it practically.

We know what Scripture teaches.

Yet we follow our feelings instead.

We follow our desires instead.

We follow our culture instead.

And then we reassure ourselves by saying:

“I prayed about it.”

“I feel peace about it.”

But peace is not the measure of truth.

God’s Word is.

This is exactly what Micah’s family is doing.

They are not abandoning religion.

They are customizing it.

They follow the commands they like.

They ignore the commands they dislike.

They keep enough of God’s truth to feel spiritual while discarding enough of it to remain comfortable.

The most dangerous idols are often the ones we create in God’s name.

Why This Matters

A counterfeit god can never save us.

More than that, a counterfeit god can never truly know us.

Real relationships require wrestling.

A real person can disagree with you.

Correct you.

Challenge you.

Say no to you.

The same is true in our relationship with God.

When Scripture confronts us, we have an opportunity to wrestle honestly with Him.

To submit where we disagree.

To grow where we are resistant.

To deepen our understanding of His character.

But if we simply ignore every truth we dislike, we are not relating to God at all.

We are relating to a projection of ourselves.

We may have created a more comfortable god.

But we have also created a nonexistent one.

And that may be the most sobering lesson in Judges 17.

Micah’s greatest problem was not that he rejected God.

It was that he remade Him.

Jesus: The True Image

Micah’s mother believed she could fashion something with silver that would help her worship God.

Yet every image created by human hands inevitably distorts the One it seeks to represent.

But in Jesus Christ, God has given us the perfect image of Himself.

Paul writes:

“He is the image of the invisible God.” (Colossians 1:15)

Unlike Micah’s idol, Jesus does not distort God’s character.

He reveals it perfectly.

If we want to know what God is like, we do not look at statues.

We look at Christ.

In Jesus we see God’s holiness.

His mercy.

His justice.

His compassion.

His truth.

His love.

Micah attempted to create an image of God.

God gave us the real thing.

We never need to imagine what God is like.

God has shown us.

Behold Him, Not Me

Micah’s problem was not that he stopped worshiping.

His problem was that he wanted a version of God that fit comfortably inside his own preferences.

Every idol ultimately asks the same question:

Will I worship God as He is?

Or will I create a god I prefer?

The answer is not better religion.

The answer is Christ.

The true image of God.

As we continue through the closing chapters of Judges, may we learn to lay aside our preferences, our assumptions, and our attempts to remake God according to our own image.

May we instead allow God to reveal Himself through His Word and through His Son.

And may we learn, once again, to behold Him—not ourselves.

Heart Check Questions

• What parts of God’s Word do I most wish were different?

• Have I been wrestling honestly with those truths or avoiding them?

• Are there attributes of God I emphasize while ignoring others?

• Where am I tempted to shape God according to culture rather than Scripture?

• Am I worshiping God as He is—or as I would prefer Him to be?

Prayer

Father,

Forgive me for the ways I try to reshape You according to my preferences. Forgive me for the times I have emphasized the parts of Your character that comfort me while ignoring the parts that challenge me.

Thank You for revealing Yourself through Your Word and through Your Son. Thank You that I do not have to imagine what You are like because You have shown me in Jesus Christ.

Help me to worship You as You are, not as I wish You to be.

Give me humility where I resist Your truth.

Give me faith where I struggle to understand.

Give me courage to submit even when Your Word confronts my desires.

Teach me to behold Christ more clearly, trust Him more deeply, and follow Him more faithfully.

May I stop creating gods in my own image and instead be transformed into Yours.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

The most dangerous idols are often the ones we create in God’s name.

Behold Him, not me.

June 27, 2026 0

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

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 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

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