The book of Psalms shines a light on all of this and so much more.
Within the Psalms, there are heartfelt prayers, cries of pain, songs of worship and praise, and shouts of thankfulness. There are echoes of every other emotion known to men. The Psalms are often messy and raw—but the most important point is this: they're genuine expressions of real feelings. They often give words to whatever we're feeling but cannot articulate. And that is precisely why they matter.
The book of Job is one of the oldest pieces of literature in the world, yet it tackles one of the most modern questions we ever ask: Why would God allow suffering? If you've ever felt life was unfair, if you've ever been bullied, broken, or bewildered, Job is your companion. It doesn't give easy answers—but it does introduce to God and the way He operates.
Job begins by pulling back the curtain on a conversation we would never have known about unless God had told us about it. Satan, the accuser, sneers that Job only loves God because his life is comfortable. "Take away the blessings," he says, "and Job will curse You to Your face." But God knows His servant. He knows Job's faith is real. And so, to silence Satan and to demonstrate the authenticity of true faith, God allows Job to be tested.
What follows is devastating. Job loses his business, his animals, his servants, his family, and finally his health. He ends up sitting on an ash heap, scraping his sores with broken pottery. If anyone ever had the right to accuse God of cruelty, surely it was Job. Yet he never curses God. He wrestles, he weeps, he questions—but he clings on to his faith in God, just as God said he would.
Most of the book is a long, painful conversation between Job and his friends. They try to explain his suffering with neat formulas: "Good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people—so Job, you must have sinned." Their theology is tidy, but it's wrong. Job knows he hasn't done anything to deserve this, and he refuses to pretend otherwise. His friends defend their beliefs; Job defends his integrity. And in the middle of it all sits the great question: Why would God allow this?
But here's the remarkable thing: when God finally speaks, He doesn't answer Job's questions. Instead, He reveals Himself. He takes Job on a tour of creation—its vastness, complexity, and wildness—and shows him that the world is far bigger, deeper, and more intricate than he ever imagined. God isn't avoiding the question; He's lifting Job's eyes. Job wanted explanations. God gave him Himself.
And that is the turning point. Job discovers that knowing God is better than knowing the reasons. His suffering becomes the doorway to a deeper relationship with the living God—something he could never have gained through comfort. As he says, "My ears had heard of You, but now my eyes have seen You."
This is where the gospel shines through the book of Job. The New Testament tells us that suffering is not a sign of God's absence but often the place where His love is most clearly seen. Peter writes, 'In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ,' 1 Peter 1:6–7. Paul reminds us that 'suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope,' Rom. 5:3–4. And the Lord Jesus Himself, who was 'a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief', shows us that God does not stand far off from pain; He enters it, bears it, and offers salvation as a result of His death and resurrection.
Job's story casts a shadow that reveals the suffering of the cross. The Lord Jesus is the ultimate righteous sufferer, facing satanic accusations. God allows suffering not because He is cruel, but because He is accomplishing something bigger than we can see. And as a result, there is a final restoration that far outweighs the pain.
So what does Job say to you when life isn't fair? When you're hurting? When you're tempted to give up? It says this: God is bigger than your suffering, nearer than your tears, and better than your explanations. You may not get the answers you want, but you will get the God you need. And in the gospel, we see the ultimate proof that God can take the darkest moment in history—the cross—and turn it into the greatest good the world has ever known.
Job teaches us that suffering is not the end of the story. God is. And those who trust Him discover His character in a way they never could have known otherwise.
All photos courtesy of Unsplash
The book of Esther is one of Scripture’s most remarkable demonstrations that God is always at work, even when His name is not mentioned. It is a story set in the vast Persian Empire, where the Jewish people—far from home, seemingly insignificant—face extinction. Yet behind every twist of the narrative stands the unseen hand of the sovereign God, quietly but decisively working out His purposes.
1. God’s Hidden Hand in Ordinary Events
Esther begins with what looks like a string of coincidences:
• A queen is removed.
• A young Jewish woman, Esther, is chosen as queen.
• Her cousin Mordecai “just happens” to overhear a plot against the king.
None of these events appears miraculous. They are the everyday movements of palace life. But they are God’s preparations, laying the groundwork for a moment of deliverance that will preserve the line through which the Messiah Himself would come.
This is the rhythm of the book: God is silent, but never absent; hidden, but never inactive.
2. The Threat Against God’s People
Haman’s hatred of the Jews is not merely political—it is spiritual. His plot to destroy the Jewish people is another attempt by the enemy to cut off the line of promise, the line that leads to Christ. Throughout Scripture, Satan seeks to prevent the arrival of the Redeemer (Genesis 3:15). Esther shows us that God’s covenant promises cannot be thwarted.
When Haman casts lots (purim) to choose the day of destruction, he believes chance is on his side. But Scripture reminds us: “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” (Proverbs 16:33).
Even the date of the Jews’ destruction was under God’s control.
Rebuilding What Only God Can Restore — The Gospel Through the Book of Nehemiah
There's something deeply moving about the book of Nehemiah. It's the story of a man who lived far from home, carried responsibilities he never asked for, and yet could not shake the burden God placed on his heart. Nehemiah was born in a foreign land, serving in the Persian court, but his heart never left Jerusalem. When he heard that the city's walls lay in ruins, something inside him broke. The city of God was exposed, vulnerable, and shamed. And Nehemiah knew he had to do something.
That's often how God begins His work—He stirs a heart, He plants a burden, He awakens a vision. But before Nehemiah lifted a stone, he prayed. Before he spoke to the King, he spoke to the King of kings. God's work always begins with God Himself.
A Man Who Prayed Before He Built
Nehemiah's first response to the news was not strategy but sorrow, not planning but praying. He "sat down and wept, and mourned for many days; fasting and praying before the God of heaven," Nehemiah 1:4. That's where all true gospel work begins—not with our strength, but with our weakness; not with our ideas, but with our dependence.
The gospel tells us the same truth. Before we can build anything for God, God must do something in us. The Lord Jesus said, "Without Me you can do nothing," John 15:5. The cross reminds us that salvation is not a human project but a divine rescue. Christ died for the ungodly, rose to give life, and now builds His church through ordinary people who lean entirely on Him.
Nehemiah prayed—and God moved. But here's the surprising thing: God often answers prayer by sending us to be part of the solution. Nehemiah prayed for Jerusalem, and God sent Nehemiah to Jerusalem. The man who prays often becomes the man God uses.
A Vision That Looked Impossible
Rebuilding a wall around a ruined city was no small task. The stones were scattered, the gates burned, the people discouraged, and enemies surrounded them. Yet Nehemiah believed God could do what seemed impossible. He told the people, "The God of heaven will prosper us; therefore, we His servants will arise and build," Nehemiah 2:20.
That's the heartbeat of gospel work. We don't preach Christ because we think people can fix themselves. We preach Christ because only God can rebuild a broken life. Paul wrote, "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation," 2 Corinthians 5:17. The gospel is not self‑improvement. It is God doing for us what we could never do for ourselves.
Nehemiah's vision wasn't about stones and mortar. It was about restoring God's honour among His people. Today, the Lord is still building—but not walls. He is building His church, gathering people from every nation into a living temple founded on Christ Himself, Ephesians 2:19–22.
A Work That Needed Everyone
One of the most beautiful chapters in Nehemiah is chapter 3, where there is a long list of names, families, and groups who worked side by side. Goldsmiths, perfumers, rulers, merchants, daughters, priests—everyone found a place on the wall.
God's work has always been a team effort. The gospel doesn't create spectators; it creates servants. Paul reminds us that the church is a body, and "the body is not one member but many," 1 Corinthians 12:14. Every believer has a role. Every gift matters. Every contribution strengthens the whole.
Nehemiah didn't build the wall alone. And no Christian builds the kingdom alone. When God saves us, He places us into a community where we serve, encourage, and strengthen one another.
A Work That Faced Opposition
As soon as the building began, the enemies appeared. Mockery, threats, discouragement, fear—Nehemiah faced it all. But he refused to stop. He prayed, he planned, and he pressed on. At one point, the builders worked with a trowel in one hand and a sword in the other.
The gospel prepares us for the same reality. Following Christ does not remove opposition; it often invites it. Yet we stand firm because Christ has already won the victory. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" Romans 8:31. The cross disarms every enemy, and the resurrection guarantees that nothing done for Christ is ever wasted.
A Work That Only God Could Finish
In just fifty‑two days, the wall was completed. It was a miracle of grace, determination, unity, and divine help. But the real miracle was not the wall—it was the renewed hearts of God's people. They gathered to hear the Word, confessed their sins, renewed their covenant, and rediscovered the joy of the Lord.
That's the gospel in miniature. Christ rebuilds what sin has ruined. He restores what was broken. He brings us back to God. And the joy He gives becomes our strength, Nehemiah 8:10.
Rebuilding Today
We may not be stacking stones or hanging gates, but God is still calling His people to build—lives, families, churches, communities shaped by the gospel. Like Nehemiah, we start with prayer. We trust God for the impossible. We work together. We endure opposition. And we keep our eyes on Christ, the One who is building something eternal.
The wall Nehemiah built eventually fell again. But the work Christ is doing will stand forever.
All photos courtesy of Unsplash
