By Pastor John Erickson

Some people talk about hearing God as though it happens as naturally as answering the phone. Others aren't sure they've ever experienced anything like that. And plenty of us are somewhere in the middle, wondering whether a thought came from God or whether we're simply having a conversation with ourselves.

That's an important question. People can become very confident that God has spoken, and confidence by itself doesn't make them right. We need both openness to the Holy Spirit and humility about our ability to misunderstand.

Begin With the Relationship

In John 14, Jesus is speaking to His disciples as He prepares them for His departure. He promises that the Holy Spirit will teach them and remind them of what He said. That promise is rooted in Jesus' teaching; it is not a blank check for anything someone labels a message from God. The picture is personal and ongoing. God welcomes us into a relationship in which we learn to listen, respond, and grow.

Sometimes, though, we approach Him mainly when we need an answer. We have a decision to make, so we press the spiritual call button and wait for assistance. We want direction, preferably clear direction, preferably before lunch.

We can certainly bring decisions to God. But Scripture presents a relationship much richer than a heavenly question-and-answer service. Jesus calls His disciples friends. Hearing Him grows within a life spent with Him.

Pay Attention-and Test What You Hear

The first place I turn is Scripture. God's Word gives us a foundation for understanding His character and recognizing what is consistent with Him. Any impression we have needs to be considered in that light.

I've also experienced moments when someone comes to mind with an unusual sense of compassion or concern. I reach out, and sometimes the response is essentially, "Wow, I needed someone to hear me." Those moments move me toward a person, toward compassion, toward listening. They are an invitation to respond humbly, not proof that every feeling I have is a message from God. At other times, a thought carries a particular weight or tenderness, or another person helps me recognize something I hadn't seen.

Those experiences still need testing. Does this line up with Scripture? Does it reflect the character of Jesus? Am I willing to let mature people I trust help me think it through?

Our motivations matter, too. I know how easy it is to hear what I already wanted to hear.

If I am asking whether to eat a cupcake, and my emotions are enthusiastically voting yes, that does not settle the question of whether God has spoken. Apparently I can have a very strong impression about frosting.

I am particularly cautious when the answer conveniently agrees with what I wanted anyway. When a prompting moves me beyond my comfort zone, I pay attention-but discomfort alone is not proof either. Every impression still needs testing. God can lead us toward something we want, but wanting it badly should make us willing to examine our conclusions carefully.

God Cares About Who You're Becoming

Sometimes we become so focused on getting an answer that we overlook what God is doing in us. We're asking which option to choose while spending very little time considering what He has already asked us to change.

Romans 12:2 connects discerning God's will with transformation and the renewing of our minds. As God changes us, we grow in our ability to recognize what is good and pleasing to Him. We become people who can participate thoughtfully and faithfully in His work.

That doesn't mean every unanswered question reveals a failure in your spiritual life. Sometimes we simply don't have an answer yet. But it does invite us to ask a deeper question alongside "What should I do?" We can also ask, "Lord, who are You helping me become?"

I have also learned to listen when other people push back. I may describe a direction I think God is giving, and someone else says they are not sensing the same thing. I need to be willing to hear that. Saying "God told me" should not close a conversation that might help me grow.

Learning to hear God takes practice. Spend time in Scripture, make room to listen, examine your motivations, and welcome wise counsel. You can take the relationship seriously without pretending you understand everything perfectly.

By Pastor John Erickson

I want you to think about a person or group of people who really makes your blood boil. You know the ones. The people who seem to represent everything you disagree with. The people whose opinions, decisions, or behavior make you angry. Write them down privately if it helps. Keep that name nearby while we read, because Jonah has a way of changing who we think the story is about.

Now imagine something terrible happens to them. Is there a small part of you that thinks, Well, they kind of deserved that? It's not a particularly comfortable question. But it might be one of the most important questions we can ask when reading the book of Jonah.

Because despite what you might remember from Sunday school, Jonah isn't primarily a story about a man and a really big fish. It's a story about the mercy of God-and how difficult it can be for us to accept that mercy when it's directed toward people we don't like.

Jonah Isn't the Hero We Expect

If you grew up hearing the story of Jonah, you probably remember the basic outline. God tells Jonah to go to Nineveh. Jonah runs in the opposite direction. A storm comes. A giant fish swallows Jonah. Eventually, Jonah goes to Nineveh, preaches God's message, and the people repent. It's a wonderful story of God's forgiveness.

Except that's not where the story ends. There's an entire fourth chapter, and it's probably the most important part of the book.

Throughout the story, Jonah behaves in ways we wouldn't expect from God's prophet. When the storm comes, pagan sailors show concern for human life while Jonah seems remarkably unconcerned. When Jonah finally preaches in Nineveh, the people respond to God. Even the king humbles himself and calls the city to turn away from violence and evil.

Almost everyone seems to be responding to God. Except God's prophet. And here's where things get interesting.

Jonah Is Angry That God Is Merciful

In Jonah 4, we finally discover why Jonah ran away in the first place. It wasn't simply because he was afraid of Nineveh. He knew something about God's character. He knew that God was gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. Normally, those are things we celebrate about God.

But Jonah is furious. Why? Because God has shown compassion to people Jonah believes deserve judgment.

Jonah loves God's mercy when he receives it. Remember, Jonah himself had just been rescued from death after disobeying God. He was alive because God had been gracious to him. But apparently, that grace wasn't supposed to extend to his enemies.

I find it easy to see how ridiculous Jonah is. An entire city has responded to God, and the preacher is having a terrible day because the sermon worked. But before I enjoy being smarter than Jonah, I need to recognize something uncomfortable. We can do exactly the same thing. We celebrate grace when God gives it to us. We sing about forgiveness. We thank Jesus for His mercy. But what happens when that same mercy is extended to somebody we would rather see get what they deserve?

What's the Deal With the Plant?

The ending of Jonah is wonderfully strange. Jonah goes outside the city, sits down, and waits to see what will happen. God provides a plant that grows over Jonah and gives him shade. Jonah is delighted. Then God provides a worm that destroys the plant. The sun becomes unbearably hot, and Jonah is furious again.

It's almost comical. An entire city receives mercy, and Jonah is angry. A plant gives him some shade, and Jonah is happy. The plant dies, and Jonah wants to die too.

But God is exposing something about Jonah's heart. Look at what Jonah cares about. His comfort matters deeply to him. The lives of more than 120,000 people? Apparently, not so much. God asks Jonah why he is so concerned about this plant while showing so little concern for the people of Nineveh.

And then the book ends. That's it. No resolution. No final speech from Jonah. No explanation about whether he finally understood. Just a question hanging in the air.

Who Are Your Ninevites?

I think Jonah is one of the most brilliant books in Scripture because it has a way of turning the tables on us. We begin reading the story thinking Jonah is the problem. But somewhere along the way, we realize the story is holding up a mirror. The real question becomes: Who are the people I struggle to see with compassion? Who have I reduced to an enemy, a political position, a problem, or a stereotype?

It's possible to have excellent theology and still have a heart that is deeply resistant to the mercy of God. We can know all the right things about God's character and struggle to reflect that same character toward others.

Jesus challenges us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44). That's a very different response from Jonah. In many ways, Jesus shows us the opposite of Jonah's attitude. Where Jonah runs away from his enemies, Jesus moves toward those on the outside. Where Jonah resents mercy, Jesus embodies it. And where Jonah is consumed by his own comfort, Jesus gives Himself for others.

The Question We Have to Answer

The book of Jonah doesn't tell us how Jonah responds to God's final question. Perhaps that's intentional. Because now the question belongs to us.

It's easy to agree that God is loving, gracious, and compassionate. The challenge comes when following Jesus means showing that same love to people we'd rather avoid. We have received mercy we didn't earn. And Jesus is inviting us to extend mercy beyond the people who are easy for us to love.

So who are your Ninevites? Look back at the name you wrote down. Can you bring that person before God without first explaining why they do not deserve mercy?

I need to bring my own heart to Him too. Jonah exposes my tendency to say the right things while my actions reveal something else. I have received mercy in that gap. Now Jesus is calling me to love the people I would rather avoid.

By Pastor John Erickson

It's possible to know a lot about God and still carry a deeply distorted picture of Him. We can recognize Bible stories, use the right religious language, and sound confident while relating to God as though He is harsh, impossible to please, or waiting for us to offer Him a deal.

Jephthah's story in Judges is a disturbing example. He is capable, articulate, and familiar with Israel's history. Yet the story moves toward tragedy because knowing the language has not taught him to trust the heart of God.

An Impressive Beginning Doesn't Tell the Whole Story

Jephthah begins as an outsider. Rejected by his brothers, he later becomes the person the elders seek when they need military help. It has the ingredients of an underdog story, and I love rooting for an underdog. Give me Luke Skywalker, apparently a nobody on a distant planet, or Harry Potter living under the stairs, and I am ready for the overlooked person to become the hero.

That is what makes this story so unsettling to me. I want Jephthah's rejection to be followed by a neat redemption story. His ability and his religious vocabulary seem promising. But the story asks me to look deeper than the qualities that make somebody impressive.

When he negotiates with the Ammonite king, he demonstrates knowledge of Israel's past. He can explain the history and make a strong case. At this point, he looks like a leader who knows what he's talking about.

Then he makes a disastrous vow. If God gives him victory, he promises to sacrifice whatever comes out of his house to greet him. His daughter is the one who comes out, and the story becomes devastating. Judges 11:39 says he did to her as he had vowed. I read that as the terrible fulfillment of his promise, while recognizing that some readers understand her fate differently. Either way, God never commands this vow. The Spirit has already come upon Jephthah before he tries to bargain in Judges 11:29-31. He is offering a deal God did not ask him to make.

Jephthah's religious confidence has led him toward something God never asked him to offer. His understanding of God has become dangerously confused.

Notice When Faith Turns Into Bargaining

Most of us won't make a vow like Jephthah's. But we may recognize the impulse to bargain. "God, if You get me through this, I promise I'll finally do better." Beneath the promise can sit a fearful assumption that God's kindness needs to be purchased.

We begin trying to manage Him rather than trusting Him. We imagine enough effort, pain, sacrifice, or performance might persuade Him to care. Even while speaking about grace, we can live as though everything depends on negotiating the right terms.

That misunderstanding affects real life. When we get God's character wrong, people can get hurt. We may demand things of ourselves and others that grow from fear rather than from the love of the Father.

Let the Question Search Your Own Heart First

This story can also help us consider the leaders we follow. Being articulate, gifted, or able to use Christian language doesn't establish someone's maturity. Over time, character needs to support the words.

When I preach this story, the first person it needs to search is me. I can prepare a sermon, explain the passage, and know exactly which words to use. That does not exempt me from the questions I am asking.

Before I turn this story into a list of what is wrong with everyone else, I need to let it examine me. Do I actually spend time with God? Am I open to being changed through prayer, Scripture, worship, and obedience? Does the way I treat people reflect the God I claim to know?

Those are humbling questions, and they lead us toward Jesus. He reveals the Father's heart through His life, mercy, and self-giving love. We can bring our fearful assumptions to Him and learn again what God is like.

If you've been bargaining, performing, or hiding, begin there. Ask Jesus to help you recognize the Father He reveals. Knowing more about God matters, and that knowledge is meant to grow into a life of trusting Him.