Is God Doing It Wrong?
There is a moment most of us have experienced — watching something unfold in a way that seems backward, inefficient, or simply wrong, and feeling the almost irresistible urge to step in and say so. We do it with our families, our coworkers, and if we are honest, we do it with God. We look at the circumstances of our lives, or the state of the world, and somewhere deep in our hearts we think: this is not how I would have done it.
Romans 9 invites us into exactly that tension. It is one of the most challenging passages in all of Scripture, and it refuses to let us stay comfortable. It raises enormous questions about God's character, His faithfulness, and His plan — and it does not always answer them in the neat, tidy ways we prefer. But that discomfort is not a sign that something has gone wrong. It is an invitation to trust someone whose understanding is infinitely higher than our own.
The Anguish of Unfinished Things
The apostle Paul opens Romans 9 with raw, personal grief. He is not writing from a distance about abstract theology. He is writing as a Jewish man who loves his people deeply, who recognizes everything God has given them — the covenants, the law, the promises, the patriarchs, and the Messiah himself who came through their very lineage — and who is heartbroken that so many have rejected Jesus as that Messiah. Paul goes so far as to say he would be willing to be cut off from Christ himself if it meant his people could be saved (Romans 9:3).
This is not the posture of someone who has given up. It is the posture of someone who cares so deeply that the ache is almost unbearable. And it sets the tone for everything that follows. Before we wrestle with doctrine, we are invited to feel the weight of what is at stake.
When Everything Feels Like It Is Falling Apart: Is God Still For You?
There is a question that most people, at some point in their lives, find themselves asking in the quiet moments — when the diagnosis comes back with bad news, when the marriage begins to unravel, when the job disappears, when grief settles in like a weight that will not lift. The question is simple, but it cuts deep: Is God against me?
It is a question born out of pain, not rebellion. When life presses hard enough, even the most faithful person can find themselves wondering whether God has turned his back, whether something they did has caused him to withdraw his love, whether their salvation is even real. If you have ever been there, you are not alone. And more importantly, there is an answer.
Romans chapter 8, beginning at verse 31, speaks directly into that question with a boldness that is almost startling. The apostle Paul, writing to believers who knew suffering well, does not offer platitudes or easy comfort. He offers something far more durable: a case built on what God has actually done.
Since God Is For Us
Paul opens with a declaration that has become one of the most quoted phrases in all of Scripture. He asks who can be against us if God is for us. But it is worth pausing on the word "if." In the original language, this word does not carry doubt. It carries certainty. A better reading might be: since God is for us, who can be against us?
This is not a promise that life will be smooth or that opposition will disappear. The word "against" in this context carries the idea of working against us to our undoing — to overturn or unravel what God has done. Paul is making the point that no force in existence can undo what God has accomplished in redeeming a person. The salvation God gives is not fragile. It does not depend on our ability to hold on. As Philippians 1:6 reminds us, the one who began a good work in us will be faithful to carry it through to completion.
The Beauty of America: A Story Worth Telling
What makes a nation beautiful? Is it the landscape, the monuments, or the political systems? Or is it something deeper—something woven into the very fabric of its founding and sustained by the courage of those who refuse to forget?
The answer lies not in politics or geography, but in a story. And whoever tells the story controls the future.
A Song of Beauty
There's something stirring about the hymn "America the Beautiful." Unlike many patriotic songs, it reads more like a prayer than a celebration—a plea for grace, a recognition that beauty comes not from human achievement alone, but from divine blessing. "God shed His grace on thee" isn't just poetic language; it's a theological statement about the source of true national greatness.
The purple mountains, amber waves of grain, and spacious skies are merely the canvas. The real beauty of America has always been found in the courage of a minority who dared to read the Bible, see the world through its lens, and live differently than those around them.
The Power of Providence
George Washington used the word "providence" 477 times in his communications. This wasn't the language of a deist who believed in an absentee God. This was a man who experienced divine intervention firsthand—four bullets through his coat, two horses shot from under him, yet he emerged unscathed. He attributed his survival, and ultimately the survival of the nation, to "the all-powerful dispensations of providence."
The founding generation didn't see themselves as creating something entirely new. They saw themselves as participants in God's ongoing story—a continuation of the Exodus narrative, where an oppressed people were led out of bondage into a promised land of liberty.