I still remember when The Princess Bride first came out in theaters. I had seen television previews featuring Billy Crystal and Carol Kane, two well-known comedians and actors. Without the broader context of the story, their scene seemed strange to me—more like shouting and bitterness than comedy. Because of that brief impression, I had no desire to see the movie in theaters. Many others seemed to feel the same way, and the film only barely recouped its production and marketing costs.
Later, when I finally watched the movie, I fell in love with it. It was filled with good versus evil, adventure, sword fights, romance, and, of course, the unforgettable Rodents of Unusual Size. Over time, The Princess Bride gained a devoted following and was even included among the American Film Institute’s top love stories. I had missed the opportunity to enjoy it on the big screen because I had formed a conclusion from one small scene, without understanding the whole story.
In a similar way, many people can take a verse or two from the Bible out of context and form serious misconceptions about God and His goodness. In this entry, I want to address two of those misconceptions and also consider a third: the misunderstanding that can arise when we separate God’s attributes from one another instead of seeing the beautiful synergy of who He is and how He works in our lives.
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. (Jer 29:11-13)
Over the past five years, since Sarah was first diagnosed, we have heard Jeremiah 29:11 used in many different ways. In some circles, it has been presented as a promise that God intends for every believer to experience success in all things, healing from every illness, and protection from every form of harm. Some even connect this verse to the idea that, with God’s help, we can “manifest” whatever we desire. But that understanding misses the context of Jeremiah 29, as well as the nature of the promise and the people to whom it was first given.
Jeremiah was written during a painful and uncertain time in Israel’s history. The northern kingdom had already fallen to Assyria more than a century earlier, and now Babylon stood at the gates of Jerusalem, threatening the kingdom of Judah. The people faced what seemed like two choices: surrender to Nebuchadnezzar II or seek help from Egypt in hopes of escaping Babylon’s power. Through Jeremiah, God called His people to trust Him—not by avoiding exile, but by submitting to it. The promise of a future and a hope did not mean immediate comfort or freedom from suffering. In fact, it came in the context of judgment, displacement, and seventy years of exile.
That is why Jeremiah 29:11 cannot be treated as a simple guarantee that God will spare us from all harm or give us only the blessings we desire. The promise was first spoken to the exiled people of Judah, and it pointed beyond their immediate suffering to God’s faithfulness to His covenant purposes, including His promises connected to David’s line and ultimately fulfilled in the Messiah. When we read this verse in context, we do not find a shallow promise of ease; we find something far deeper: God remains good, faithful, and sovereign even when His purposes lead His people through suffering. As I shared last in my last post, Scripture often calls us not away from suffering at any cost, but into God’s greater purposes through it—our salvation, our transformation into the likeness of Christ, and our fellowship with Him and with the people of faith.
No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. (1 Cor 10:13)
In 2 Corinthians 1:8-9, Paul describes an affliction so severe that he and his companions were burdened beyond their strength and even despaired of life itself. Yet he explains that God allowed this so they would not rely on themselves, but on the God who raises the dead. Our weakness is therefore not a sign that God has abandoned us, but a place where He strips away self-sufficiency and teaches us deeper dependence on His resurrection power.
Then later in chapter 12 of the same letter in verses 9-10, Paul shows that God’s blessing in weakness is not always the removal of suffering, but the gift of sustaining grace. When the Lord says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,” He reveals that our limitations can become the very place where Christ’s strength rests upon us. Because of this, Paul can rejoice in weakness, not because pain is good in itself, but because God uses it to display His power, deepen our dependence, and bless us with more of Himself.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Ps 55:8-11)
As I bring this post to a close, I want to turn our attention from correcting misconceptions to beholding the greatness of God and the beauty of His Word. The God of the Bible is worthy of our faith, our trust, our worship, and our obedience. His goodness is not fragile, shallow, or separate from the rest of who He is. His holiness, power, wisdom, knowledge, and sovereign rule all uphold and perfect His goodness, so that everything He does is righteous, purposeful, and worthy of praise.
This is why we can trust that His plans are truly good, even when they do not unfold according to our expectations. Isaiah 55 reminds us that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, nor are His ways our ways; as the heavens are higher than the earth, so His ways and thoughts are higher than ours. In Christ, God has already given us the greatest gift—His own Son—and through Him He makes us more than conquerors, not by sparing us from every sorrow, but by holding us fast and conforming us to Christ. Romans 8 reminds us that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, according to His purpose, and that good is defined by His perfect wisdom, not our limited sight. Therefore, we can rest in His goodness, submit to His ways, and glorify Him as the One whose Word never returns empty and whose purposes never fail.
Challenge Questions for Reflection
- Are there verses I have understood mostly through personal desire, cultural sayings, or isolated phrases rather than through the fuller context of Scripture?
- When I think about God’s goodness, do I expect Him mainly to remove suffering, or am I learning to trust that He can work faithfully and lovingly within suffering?
- Where has weakness, disappointment, illness, or loss revealed my dependence on myself—and how might God be calling me to rely more deeply on the One who raises the dead?
- Do I trust that God’s thoughts and ways are higher than mine, even when His purposes unfold through waiting, pain, or outcomes I would not have chosen?
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