Trusting God In Every Season

Trusting God in Every Season

Isaiah 46

The human heart craves stability. In a world rocked by uncertainty, we're all searching for something solid—a place to stand when the winds howl and the waves crash. When life becomes turbulent, we instinctively look for shelter—a refuge that can hold. Some look to family and friends, hoping that shared love will ease the load. Others build financial security, thinking money can buy peace—or at least shine a light in the valley of shadows. Some pursue knowledge, convinced that understanding can lead them out of the storm. Others lean on their health or inner resolve, hoping strength alone will sustain them. But here’s the question: When we place our ultimate trust in these things, are we not giving our hearts to what Scripture calls idols? God’s first command is unmistakably clear: “You shall have no other gods before Me” (Exodus 20:3). We may not bow before carved statues or golden calves—but the things we love most, trust most, and cling to most reveal where our faith truly lies.

There’s nothing wrong with close relationships, wise financial planning, growing in understanding, or taking care of our health. In fact, Scripture encourages all of these. But when these good gifts become our greatest hope—when they capture our devotion, define our worth, or become the anchor of our identity—they stop being gifts and start becoming gods. Today, we turn to the words of the prophet Isaiah—a message spoken to God’s people on the edge of one of their greatest crises: the coming judgment of Babylon. Isaiah warned them not to trust in fragile alliances or powerless idols—idols that had to be carried—but to trust in the living God who promises to carry His people.

So, before we turn to the text, ask yourself honestly: Where have I placed my trust? Is it in something that can be taken from me? Something that cannot save? Or is it in the One who has promised, “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He… I will carry you” (Isaiah 46:4)?

Counterfeit Security

In Isaiah 46, we’re given a prophetic glimpse into God’s warning to His people through His servant Isaiah. At the time, the Assyrian empire was rising as a brutal and dominant power in the east, swiftly conquering nation after nation. This looming threat raised a crucial question: Where would God’s people place their trust? Faced with fear, Damascus and the northern kingdom of Israel turned to human alliances, choosing to trust in Syria and urging Judah to join their coalition against Assyria. But their plans failed. Though Assyria initially allowed Hoshea, a puppet king, to reign from 732 to 723 BC, Israel eventually rebelled and stopped paying tribute. The consequence was swift and devastating—Israel was crushed and exiled in 722 BC.

Judah, choosing a different path, opted to avoid the coalition and instead placed its trust in tribute payments to Assyria, hoping political appeasement would buy their safety. But that too proved to be a false security. Eventually, under King Hezekiah, Judah stopped paying the tribute. Assyria responded with a siege, but unlike their northern neighbors, Judah turned not to alliances or idols—but to the Lord. And in a miraculous display of God’s power, He sent His angel and struck down 185,000 Assyrian soldiers in a single night (2 Kings 19:35). Judah was spared—not because of politics or power—but because they placed their trust in God.

Yet Isaiah, even in the aftermath of that great deliverance, delivered a sobering warning: the people's hearts were still prone to wander. Though they had seen God’s faithfulness firsthand, the day was coming when they would again turn from their Creator to powerless idols. The prophet looked ahead to a future judgment—not from Assyria, but from Babylon. A time would come when Jerusalem would fall, the temple would be torn down, and the people would be exiled for 70 years. In captivity, they would be surrounded by Babylonian gods like Bel and Nebo, who were celebrated in pompous processions and revered as symbols of victory. But Isaiah reminded Judah that these so-called gods were empty illusions—incapable of saving, incapable even of standing on their own. In a stunning reversal, when Cyrus the Great conquered Babylon, those same idols had to be loaded onto oxcarts and carried away—powerless to save even themselves, let alone a nation. Isaiah declares their fate plainly: “They go off into captivity, lifeless, mute, and defeated.” Their emptiness is exposed. What kind of god needs saving?

Like Israel and Judah, we are tempted to trust in counterfeit securities. Whether it’s money, fame, power, family, or health, these things can easily lull us into a false sense of safety and control. But the lesson from Scripture is clear: trusting in what is temporary will always lead to disappointment. These things, though not evil in themselves, were never meant to carry the weight of our hope. They can vanish in a moment. To place our ultimate trust in them is not only an exercise in futility—it is also an offense against God who alone is eternal, faithful, and unshakable. Why trust what must be carried when you can trust the God who carries you?