In a world where everything is shifting, it’s been incredibly comforting to remember each day that God is unchanging. He’s the same today as He’s been for eternity. As He declares concerning His eternal nature, “I the LORD do not change” (Malachi 3:6). Since His rock‑solid, unchanging character is a Gospel essential and a necessary foundation for our faith to flourish, it’s no surprise that the enemy of our souls seeks to undermine and destroy this truth—so that we shift our gaze and steady stand from the Rock to the sinking sand of trusting in ourselves, others, and the wisdom of the world. But Scripture teaches that “the way that seems right to a man leads to death” (Proverbs 14:12), and as Jeremiah declares, trusting in anyone or anything besides God leads to a desert wasteland (Jeremiah 17:6).
Is God really who He says He is?
This is the oldest lie in the Bible, uttered by the Serpent in the garden as He tempted Adam and Eve to doubt God’s absolute goodness and sovereign rule (Genesis 3:1). At the core of His deception was the lie that God is not who He says He is and cannot be trusted. The enemy speaks the same lies today—trying to get us to move from resting in the goodness and character of God.
One of the greatest temptations I’ve faced over 37 years as a Christian has been to doubt God’s eternal, unchanging nature as the God who is not only able to do all things, but the One who “acts on behalf of those who wait for Him” (Isaiah 64:4). This temptation first surfaced when I quit my job to attend seminary in my early 20s. I knew the Lord was leading me to pursue theological education, but at the time I only had enough money for the first classes and a part‑time job to support me for the next four years. The constraints of my salary left me with almost no money after paying my tithe, bills, and tuition—but I was convinced this was God’s plan. At times, lies would break through, telling me that God would not or could not provide, that I would never make it and that I was going to be destitute.
Over three decades later, I can testify that those five years (it took longer than I’d hoped), rather than leaving me destitute, shaped me more than any other life experience. Through daily dependence on the Lord and studying His Word I learned to trust that He is who He says He is and can and will do everything He promises. I learned to trust God for manna, which would be necessary in other seasons of life, to find my hope in God alone, and to rest in His unwavering promise to provide (Philippians 4:19).
Can God really provide?
The enemy stepped up His strategy to discourage and destroy my faith during the same time with another temptation—to doubt God’s unchanging power. He whispered through my own thoughts, the careless words of others, and the lies of the culture that I would never get married. As a woman in her late 20s living in the South, not being married was a travesty, and I was marked as one who must have somehow missed the kindness and grace of God. I remember one day running into a friend from college in a store who, upon learning I wasn’t married, asked bluntly, “What’s wrong with you?”
The fiery dart of her words pierced my heart, and I began praying to God in fear with complaints, asking why He didn’t, wouldn’t, or couldn’t bring me a husband. All that I’d learned about the sovereignty of God went out the window as I traded this truth for man‑made wisdom which said I needed to figure this out on my own. The more I focused on these fears and doubts, the less I trusted God and the more I despaired. Some advised me to look for a husband, to put myself out there, to lower the bar—after all, it wasn’t that desirable to be so spiritual, they argued. Like Job’s counselors, they echoed the Serpent’s lie, seeking to cast a slur on God’s character, unchanging nature and power. Their message could be summed up with this declaration: “You cannot trust or rely on God alone for this. He’s God, but not that powerful. You’ve got to look to yourself, others, and the wisdom of the world to get what you want.”
Thanks to the kindness and mercy of the Lord, He shone the spotlight on the lies I was believing (Psalm 23:3). He gave me wisdom to discern the enemy’s strategy to undermine my faith and get me to turn away from trusting God (Proverbs 2:6). After realizing this, I resolved before the Lord to stake all my hope in Him alone and reject every other plan that would lead me away from trusting in the living Lord (Psalm 62:5). I quit accepting offers to go out on dates and stopped trying to figure out how I could find a husband. Instead, I focused on my studies, work, and time with other believers—and gave a firm reply to anyone who asked how I expected to get married: “If God wants me to get married, He will have to drop my husband on my doorstep.” Most laughed or smirked—but amazingly, no one ever said another word. For once, the enemy seemed silent.
After settling into this rhythm, God began to restore my hope, joy and peace (Romans 15:13). When I returned from a trip to Israel with my grandmother in the middle of the school year, I discovered that a man had mysteriously joined our class. We became friends and began spending time after class talking. Surprisingly, one Sunday afternoon, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to find standing on my doorstep the answer to years of prayer—this man of faith, who was full of the Holy Spirit and who had firmly determined to trust in the same unchanging, all‑powerful God I was trusting. A year and a half later, we were married.
Had I listened to the lies of the enemy and those who sought to discredit God’s character and power, I would have missed this blessing: The Lord miraculously brought my husband across the world to pursue PhD studies—from South Africa to Mississippi—and dropped him on the doorstep of my seminary class and of my home—just as I had prayed.
Standing Firm Against the Lies
Since that time, hundreds, if not thousands, of voices have tried to pull me away from believing that God can do all things and that nothing is impossible for Him (Luke 1:37). I was told we’d never make it on the mission field with middle‑school aged daughters, that a ministry salary wouldn’t meet our expenses, that I’d never be healed of depression or sickness, and that God would never give me the job I prayed for. Their advice always urged me to shrink back in fear—shifting my trust from Christ to self, others, or worldly wisdom.
Like the Serpent in the Garden, their strategy wasn’t designed to help me—but to draw me away from pure devotion to God—the same God who spoke the world into creation, parted the Red Sea, made covenants with His people, and sent His Son to do the unimaginable—offering His life on the cross to atone for our sins so we could be reconciled to God and gain eternal life.
If God did not withhold His one and only Son, as the apostle Paul writes, “but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). Moving from the greater to the lesser, we can be absolutely, utterly confident that our loving Father “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). He is the same God, and we can fully trust Him to fulfill every promise and provide for our every need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:19).
When the enemy whispers that He cannot be trusted, that His power is insufficient, or that His kindness won’t extend to us, we can stand firmly on the unshakable truth of His Word, and with confidence declare: “I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him” (1 Timothy 1:12). And with these words, we can also echo the Lord’s command: “Get behind Me, Satan” (Matthew 16:23).