God’s Sovereign Pleasure: A Hope Beyond Our Horizon

God’s Sovereign Pleasure: A Hope Beyond Our Horizon

There are moments in life when the weight of trials presses so heavily that we begin to wonder if God has forgotten us. We pray, we wait, and sometimes the silence feels unbearable. Yet Scripture reminds us of a profound truth: God does whatever He pleases, and His pleasure is not bound by our fleeting desires or limited vision.

God’s Pleasure Is Higher Than Our Plans

We often equate God’s pleasure with our comfort—believing that if He is truly sovereign, then surely His will must align with our longing for ease and prosperity. But His pleasure is not a reflection of our temporary wants; it is the unfolding of His eternal wisdom. His scope stretches beyond the flicker of our candle-like lives, reaching into eternity where every trial, every unanswered prayer, and every moment of waiting is woven into a greater design.

To know that God does what He pleases is not a cause for fear, but for peace. It means He is never surprised, never thwarted, and never dependent on human approval. His will flows from a character that is perfectly holy, just, and good. When He acts, He does so with eternity in mind, not merely the discomfort of the present hour. What feels like delay or denial to us is often the very means by which He is shaping something far more glorious than we could imagine.

Godly living in Christ will always provoke opposition in a fallen world

Godly living in Christ will always provoke opposition in a fallen world

Paul’s statement in 2 Timothy 3:12 is striking: “Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.” The word shall is deliberate—it does not suggest possibility but certainty. The principle is that godly living in Christ will always provoke opposition in a fallen world. This is consistent with the words of the Lord Jesus Himself: “If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). The world that rejected Christ will inevitably resist those who reflect His life and truth.

It is important to understand what persecution means in this context. Persecution is not limited to physical harm or martyrdom. It includes ridicule, rejection, slander, exclusion, and opposition in any form. Sometimes it is subtle—mockery, loss of opportunities, strained relationships. Other times it is severe—imprisonment, violence, or even death. The essence of persecution is that the world resists godliness because godliness exposes sin. As Jesus said, “Men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19-20). Wherever light shines, darkness reacts.

The condition Paul sets is clear: persecution comes to those who will live godly in Christ Jesus. This is not about mere profession of faith, but about a life actively reflecting Christ’s truth and holiness. A believer who blends into the world may avoid persecution, but one who stands for truth will inevitably face resistance. The issue is not whether persecution is constant, but whether it is inevitable when godliness is consistently lived out. The world is at enmity with God, and those who walk in His ways will feel that enmity in some form.

Right Division Isn’t the Problem — Confusion Is

Right Division Isn’t the Problem — Confusion Is

When you begin to speak about rightly dividing the word of truth, especially among sincere, well-meaning Christians, you quickly realise that the resistance isn’t always doctrinal—it’s often emotional, relational, and deeply ingrained. You’re not just introducing a new way of studying scripture; you’re challenging years of tradition, cherished assumptions, and spiritual habits that feel sacred. And while the truth of rightly dividing is clear, scriptural, and liberating, the path to sharing it is rarely smooth.

You might start with something simple—perhaps pointing out that Paul was given a unique apostleship, that his gospel was not taught by the twelve, and that the mystery revealed to him was kept hidden from ages past. But even this gentle nudge can stir discomfort. “We follow Jesus,” someone might say, with a tone that suggests you’ve somehow veered off course. And you’ll feel the weight of that statement, because it’s not just theological—it’s personal. Many believers have built their entire spiritual lives around the earthly ministry of Christ, clinging to His words in red as the highest authority, unaware that He now speaks from heaven through the apostle He appointed for this age of grace.

The moment you begin to separate Israel’s promises from the Body’s calling, the tension deepens. You’ll hear, “We’re spiritual Israel,” or “God’s promises to Israel are ours too,” and you’ll realise that the lines have been blurred for so long that clarity feels like division. But it’s not division—it’s precision. It’s the kind of clarity that Paul himself urged when he said we must rightly divide the word of truth, not blend it into a theological smoothie that tastes sweet but lacks substance. Yet for many, the idea that the Church is not Israel feels like a betrayal of the Old Testament’s richness, a denial of continuity, a loss of identity.