Lot’s wife belonged to a family with a great name and trust in God’s promises. She even had angels visit her home! God sent them to personally escort her from His coming wrath to His safety (Gen.19:1-22). Yet, she fell into eternal judgment because she looked back to her life in Sodom. She longed to preserve what she had and became a pillar of salt–a crystalline substance used for preservation (Gen. 19:26). Friends, Jesus is kind to warns us in Luke 17:32-33: “Remember Lot’s wife. Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will keep it.”
Cornelius’ conversion account can teach us many things about the spread of the gospel to the Gentiles in the first century church. We see in this story that God’s salvation through Christ is for all the families of the earth. God shows no partiality but comes to redeem people from all nations. All this is true. But my focus today is on that small line in verse four. It makes me wonder: what if my service and prayers to God were like a memorial offering rising up as a pleasing aroma before His throne?
Zechariah used a writing tablet for communication for nine months (Luke 1:63). Elizabeth must have longed for her husband’s voice in these months. Her first and second trimesters were spent in hiding (Luke 1:24). These must have been quiet months for the expectant mother. A picture, perhaps, of Israel’s own 400 years of waiting in silence for the fulfillment of God’s promises.
Whether a prostitute before her marriage to Hosea or after, Gomer left her marriage bed to chase her lovers (Hos. 2:5). She became estranged from her husband at some point and was sold into slavery. Here, God commanded Hosea: “Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the LORD loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods.” (Hos. 3:1). Hosea obeyed, he found his wife on sale, he purchased her for fifteen shekels of silver and some bushels of barley. And he said to her, “You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you” (Hos. 3:2-3). The book of Hosea ends with the hope of redemption.
We tend to approach Proverbs 31:10-31 as a recipe to be tried and tested. And as done with most recipe books, we dog-ear and separate favorite pages from the rest. But Proverbs 31:10-31 is not a “formula” for biblical womanhood. The verses are God-breathed Scripture—profitable for our teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16). For this reason, we do well to study the passage within its context. Proverbs 31:10-31 follows thirty chapters within the book of Proverbs: how do these preceding verses help us to understand this excellent wife? And how can a contextual view of the text shape our own desire for godly femininity?
The woman who struggles to take hold of God’s promise now grips the feet of God’s prophet in thanksgiving. I’m reminded here of Abraham who, when given a son through the deadness of Sarah’s womb, believed that God could raise even the dead (Hebrews 11:19). Yes, God gives His children good gifts. Yet His blessings are always meant to offer more than mere provision--they are given to reveal more of Him to us. And that is by far the greatest reward of all!
The widow had nothing but a single jar of oil. Elisha tells her to borrow many vessels from her neighbors. Her jar of oil would miraculously multiply as she poured it into each vessel. God’s means of provision for this woman sends her to many doors on that day—the more she knocked on, the more vessels she would receive. The more vessels she borrowed, the more oil she would have for her son’s freedom and for their livelihood (2 Kings 4: 2-7).
Why is Elijah sent to this widow? She was not among the people of Israel and she herself testifies of her sins. Clearly, she doesn’t choose God but He chooses her (John 15:16). He saves her just as He has and will redeem all those He has predestined for adoption as children through Jesus Christ; this is according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His own glorious grace (Ephesians 1:5-11)! Salvation is of the LORD.
Jezebel’s hatred of God’s covenant people is one example of the larger cosmic battle between the offspring of the woman and the offspring of the serpent. God put enmity between the serpent and the woman in Genesis 3:15. From here onward, Scripture unfolds the pattern of two communities: those who belong to the promised Seed of the Woman and those who are hostile to that Seed and his people.
Job’s wife reminds me of myself in some ways. I am certainly not above sounding like a foolish woman when faced with frustrations, disappointments and pain. My prayer is that God’s demonstrated kindness to me—above all, the atoning death and imputed righteousness of His Son—would continuously guard me to a faith that reveals itself in perseverance and joy in trial (James 1:2-5). I want to found clinging to Christ when weighed!
Rizpah, Saul’s concubine, is mentioned within a larger drama involving powerful kings, a broken oath, famine, execution by hanging, and propitiatory justice. In short, the plotline is intense. The story is found near the end of the book of 2 Samuel and it’s darker than any fictional folklore the Grimm brothers could have produced. Rizpah held a lengthy vigil over the dead bodies of her sons and her actions moved the mercy of the king of Israel—and the King of Heaven.
The Mosaic Law declared a woman unclean for seven days during her menstrual cycle. After this period, she was to cleanse herself by washing (Lev. 15:19-28). Scripture tells us that the bathing woman, Bathsheba, “had been purifying herself from her uncleanness” (2 Sam. 11:4). Perhaps the same spring weather that sent David to the roof also led Bathsheba to conduct her ritual cleansing in some airy corner of her courtyard. We can only speculate since the passage doesn’t specify her exact location. But we do know this: the king of Israel stood atop watching a ceremony intended for the LORD alone.
Abigail enters the scene of this narrative like a busy triage nurse, assessing damage and treating wounds. It’s immediately clear that Nabal’s household rested on Abigail’s wisdom. A servant came to inform her of the impending disaster and looked to her for their salvation (1 Sam. 25:14-17). Abigail made haste and gathered large portions of food and drink—displaying generosity where Nabal had shown greediness. She laid these provisions on donkeys and set out to meet David (1 Sam. 25:14-20). One unarmed woman charged toward four hundred swordsmen.
Hannah addressed God as “the LORD of Hosts” (Yahweh Sabaoth) in her prayer. The name translates as “the LORD Almighty,” the one who rides before legions of armies. We might imagine this victorious title declared at the parting of the Red Sea or the conquest of Jericho, but Hannah’s narrative is the first time the name appears in the Old Testament. The woman who was thundered against by a persistent adversary, needed the LORD Almighty to remember and defend her.
I’ve often considered Naomi “the female Job” of the Bible. She and Job could have been understanding friends. They both knew pain and loss (Job 1:13-21). And they both attributed their suffering to God’s sovereign hand (Job 6:4). Like Job, Naomi’s narrative inspires an old question: can a loving and all-powerful God ordain human suffering and remain wholly consistent with his character? Our passage answers “yes” as we continue.
In the days of the judges when everyone did what was right in his own eyes, a Moabite woman does what is right in God’s eyes (Ruth 1:1; Judges 21:25). Ruth reflects God’s own covenant love for his people in choosing to leave her familial home for the saving of another. She turned from father, mother, and country for a people she didn’t know and found refuge under the wings of Israel’s God (Ruth 2:11-12).
Most parents dream great dreams for their children. It’s only natural I suppose. But what if your child comes through miraculous means? What if his birth is personally announced by God? What if that child is dedicated to the LORD from the womb and is declared a future savior of your people? What hopes does a mother cherish then? I don’t refer here to the Lord Jesus but to Samson, Israel’s Judge.
Pharaoh’s fatal law must have arrived sometime after the birth of Aaron since he was alive and didn’t appear to be in danger of the edict. Unfortunately for Jochebed, her third pregnancy collided with the crisis of the decree. The king’s war against a nation found its target in her womb. But this mother would remember God’s former work of salvation.
The outcast Tamar was languishing away from God’s covenant family because of superstition and neglect of duty. God had promised to bless Abraham and his offspring (Gen. 12:1-3). This blessing would extend to all the families of the earth—as far as the curse is found. We caught a glimpse of this when God sustained Hagar and her boy for Abraham’s sake (Gen. 21:13, 20). Would this blessing stretch to Tamar too?
Thoughts of pregnancy must have consumed Rachel. Each month brought a fresh hope and then the bloody reality of her emptiness. I can’t help but remember God’s poem to Woman: “In pain you shall bring forth children.” The pain of Genesis 3:16 includes infertility as much as it does labor contractions. The effects of the Fall are here—but so is God’s mercy.
