I remember one of the first times I really wrestled with a verse. I had read it before, maybe even highlighted it, but I had never truly sat with it. It was:
At first, I nodded along. Of course, God’s thoughts are higher than mine. That seemed obvious. But the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable it became. If His thoughts aren’t my thoughts, then that means I might be reading Scripture wrong. It means that when I come to the Bible looking for validation—hoping to find verses that align with what I already believe—I could be missing the entire point.
I had been reading the Bible like it was a book about me—about my struggles, my purpose, my life. But what if it wasn’t about me at all?
What if the Bible wasn’t given just to make me feel better, but to transform me? What if, instead of shaping Scripture around my thoughts, I let Scripture shape my thoughts?
We often come to the Bible with a question already in mind:
While Scripture does provide wisdom, guidance, and comfort, its primary purpose isn’t to affirm what we already believe—it’s to reveal God to us. It’s about who He is, not just what we think He should be.
Take Jeremiah 29:11, for example. : “For I know the plans I have for you, saith the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.”
This is one of the most quoted verses in the Bible. We use it in graduation speeches, on coffee mugs, in moments of uncertainty. But if we read this verse only through our modern, personal lens, we miss its deeper meaning.
Jeremiah 29 wasn’t written to an individual—it was written to a people in exile. God wasn’t saying, “I’m about to make your life easier.” He was saying, “Even in your suffering, even though you are in captivity because of your own rebellion, I have not abandoned you. I am still faithful.“
If we really believe that God’s ways are higher than ours, then we have to let go of our need to control the narrative. We don’t get to redefine Scripture to fit our emotions or expectations. Instead, we must approach it with humility, asking:
In Luke 24, after Jesus was resurrected, He appeared to two of His disciples walking along the road to Emmaus. They were confused, discouraged, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. And what did Jesus do?
“And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, He expounded unto them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.” (Luke 24:27)
Jesus didn’t comfort them by telling them what they wanted to hear—He opened Scripture and showed them Himself. That’s what the Bible is meant to do for us.
At the heart of this conversation is a question we all have to answer:
Because if we truly want to know Him, we have to let go of our preconceived ideas and let Him speak. We have to be willing to read hard truths, to wrestle with Scripture that challenges us, and to accept that sometimes God’s ways won’t make sense to us.
That’s where faith comes in.
The Bible isn’t a book we manipulate to fit our story—it’s God’s revelation to bring us into His story. It’s not about what we think. It’s about what He wants to say.
“Lord, forgive me for the times I’ve come to Your Word with my own agenda. Give me a heart that longs to know You as You truly are. Teach me to read the Bible with humility, to listen more than I speak, and to trust that Your ways are higher than mine. Let Your truth transform me, even when it’s hard to understand. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
