"He trusted in the Lord, the God of Israel," so that there was none like him among Judah's kings; "he held fast to the Lord," not departing from following Him, and kept the commandments the Lord commanded Moses (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 18:5–6).

This description of Hezekiah's faithfulness is one of the most remarkable in Scripture. His righteousness is set alongside David's, and he is esteemed above the kings before and after him. As an example for believers, Hezekiah would be a model leader to follow.

One phrase in particular caught my attention: "he held fast to the Lord." The Hebrew word is dabaq, used also of a man leaving his father and mother to "hold fast" to his wife, so that they become one flesh (Genesis 2:24). It conveys devotion and loyalty — the strongest of connections, such that the fate of one is bound to the other. Such devotion is beautifully expressed by Asaph: whom does he have in heaven but God, and there is nothing on earth he desires besides Him; though his flesh and heart fail, "God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever" (cf. Psalm 73:25–26).

Friends, do we hold fast to the Lord? Is He our chief desire, or are we more captivated by earthly relationships and pursuits? What is the essence of our prayers? Do they echo the concern of the Lord Jesus, who prayed at the most agonizing moment of His life, "not my will, but yours, be done"? If not, let us reexamine our faith and truly cling to the Lord.

"Have you not heard that I determined it long ago?" God planned it from days of old and now brought it to pass (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 19:25).

Speaking of the power and achievements of Assyria, the Lord says plainly that He did it — He planned it and brought it to pass. God was both the strategist and the one who carried it out. Assyria was simply His chosen instrument.

Friends, some have criticized small-minded thinking in believers. It is said that believers should plan big things, pursue impossible dreams, and expect grand results — because God can do all these things. The problem is that such a perspective can make God's greatness depend on the scale of our ambitions. If we plan small things, pursue modest dreams, and expect ordinary results, are we thereby diminishing God's greatness?

The Lord is great regardless of the smallness or greatness of our plans. He is not more exalted when we put Him to the test by pursuing impossible aims. Satan tried to draw the Lord Jesus into that very thing (Matthew 4:1–11), but Jesus answered him with Scripture: "You shall not put the Lord your God to the test" (Matthew 4:7; Deuteronomy 6:16).

Friends, God's greatness is displayed in us not by the greatness of our initiative but by the purity of our devotion to trust and obey Him.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Hezekiah's faith was tested in exactly the way the comment describes. When Sennacherib's field commander taunted Jerusalem — "Do not let Hezekiah make you trust in the Lord" (18:30) — and when the threatening letter arrived, Hezekiah "went up to the house of the Lord and spread it before the Lord" (19:14). His prayer asked not merely for rescue but for God's honor: "that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you... are God alone" (19:19). That night the angel of the Lord struck the Assyrian camp, and Sennacherib withdrew (19:35–36). Assyrian records confirm the campaign and boast of shutting Hezekiah up "like a bird in a cage," but notably do not claim the capture of Jerusalem.

The verse the comment cites is part of God's reply to Assyrian arrogance: the empire that boasted of its conquests was merely an axe in God's hand (compare Isaiah 10:15). The comment's caution about equating faith with the scale of our ambitions is a healthy one. Scripture commends faithfulness in small things — "one who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much" (Luke 16:10) — and describes an ambition worth having: "to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs," working with your hands (1 Thessalonians 4:11).

Hezekiah "broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made," for until then the people had made offerings to it; it was called Nehushtan (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 18:4).

The Lord had told Moses to make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who was bitten would live when he looked at it; so Moses made a bronze serpent, and if a serpent bit anyone, he would look at the bronze serpent and live (a paraphrase of Numbers 21:8–9).

There are several centuries between the original event in Numbers and Hezekiah's act in 2 Kings. God originally commanded Moses to make this bronze serpent for a very particular time and purpose: to heal those bitten by venomous snakes, which God had sent to punish Israel for grumbling against Him and Moses in the wilderness. God never commanded the people to worship this image. In fact, such worship was explicitly forbidden in the Ten Commandments: they were not to make carved images or any likeness of anything in heaven, on earth, or in the waters, nor bow down to them or serve them (cf. Exodus 20:4–5).

Yet the people of Israel preserved the bronze serpent and "made offerings to it," an act of worship and devotion. In doing so they committed idolatry and violated God's command given through Moses. They took what God had given for their good and turned it into an idol. What was designed to remind them of God's mercy and lead them to worship the invisible God became a stumbling block, so that they worshiped the created thing rather than the Creator.

Paul reflects similarly on sinful humanity in Romans: they "exchanged the glory of the immortal God" for images resembling mortal man, birds, animals, and reptiles (a paraphrase of Romans 1:23).

Friends, let us not turn into evil what God has given for our good. Everything in creation is designed to glorify God and help us see Him as our supreme delight. "The heavens declare the glory of God" (Psalm 19:1). Whatever we do, we are to "do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31).

This is why the Westminster Shorter Catechism begins by asking, "What is the chief end of man?" and answers, "To glorify God, and to enjoy him forever."

If at any point we confuse God's benefits for God Himself, we are guilty of idolatry. Everything we receive from Him must draw our affections back to Him, the source of every good thing (cf. James 1:17). As the psalmist declares, the nearness of God is our good (cf. Psalm 73:28, NASB). In the same psalm he says there is none in heaven but God, and nothing on earth he desires besides Him; though his flesh and heart fail, God is the strength of his heart and his portion forever (cf. Psalm 73:25–26).

Friends, what do we count precious in this life? Is it our families? Our middle-class prosperity? Our health? No — it is none of these things. It is the Lord, for He is the strength of our heart and our portion forever. He is our chief delight, beside whom everything else pales. He is our heart's desire; by comparison, every other love looks like hate (cf. Luke 14:26). This is God's purpose for everything and every relationship: that through them we might more fully enjoy Him in many and varied ways.

What do we count desirable in heaven? Our salvation? Eternal bliss? Freedom from the limitations of sin, sickness, and death? All these are good, but they are empty and dark apart from the Lord. There is no salvation apart from God, no bliss apart from the joy of the Lord, no freedom from sin apart from His forgiveness, and no power to heal and live forever apart from the Source and Giver of life. It is in Him and from Him that all these good things flow.

Friends, let us not forget this: the Lord is our joy! So let us hold everything and every relationship loosely, so that idolatry will not be found in our hearts if God ever takes any of these things away. Let us have the attitude of Job, who lost his prosperity, his family, and his health, yet still declared, "blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21), and, "Though he slay me, I will hope in him" (Job 13:15).

And if we find anything in our lives competing with our affection for Christ and our obedience to God, let us be willing to shatter it completely and decisively, just as Hezekiah shattered the bronze serpent.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The bronze serpent has an unusual history in Scripture: it was commanded by God, used by God to heal, later turned into an idol, destroyed by a faithful king — and then reclaimed by Jesus as a picture of Himself. as Moses lifted up the serpent, "so must the Son of Man be lifted up" (John 3:14–15; see #1920). The object that became an idol when separated from God's purpose became a powerful symbol of the gospel when seen in its true light.

Hezekiah's act also took courage. The bronze serpent was an ancient relic connected to Moses himself, and many in Judah would have considered it sacred. The name he gave it — Nehushtan — is a Hebrew wordplay meaning something like "a piece of bronze." By naming it plainly, Hezekiah stripped it of its false aura. 2 Kings 18:5 honors him for exactly this kind of trust: "He trusted in the Lord," so that there was none like him among the kings of Judah. The comment's closing call to be willing to shatter anything that competes with Christ reflects that same spirit.

In the fourteenth year of King Hezekiah, Sennacherib king of Assyria came up against all the fortified cities of Judah and seized them (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 18:13).

Assyria destroyed the Northern Kingdom of Israel and took its people captive. Then it set its sights on Judah. We are told that Sennacherib successfully seized all the fortified cities of Judah and was on his way to take Jerusalem, the capital.

Hezekiah tried to appease Sennacherib by giving him whatever he demanded. But even after he paid, rather than stopping Sennacherib's advance, it only emboldened him to demand the surrender of Jerusalem.

While we honor King Hezekiah, who declared his trust in the Lord in the face of the threats of the great Assyrian army, we should understand that this trust seems to have been a last resort. He had lost all the fortified cities of Judah to Sennacherib. He had enriched Sennacherib with all the temple gold and silver. What reason would Sennacherib have to keep Hezekiah alive even if he surrendered? After all, since Sennacherib did not withdraw after receiving what he demanded, why would he show mercy to Hezekiah in surrender? Feeling cornered and having exhausted all earthly options, Hezekiah prayed to the Lord.

It appears that if it were not for the Assyrian king's foolishness in proudly challenging the Lord, there might have been a different outcome.

The Lord says through the prophet Isaiah, "Because you have prayed to Me about Sennacherib king of Assyria, I have heard you" (2 Kings 19:20).

I wonder. Did Hezekiah not pray while the Assyrian king was besieging and capturing the fortified cities of Judah? Did he perhaps think he could resist or repel the Assyrian army by his own strength or cunning? Were there seeds of pride here that would appear again with the Babylonian envoys? Or, having exhausted every other option, and even all the gold and silver, was he left with only prayer?

But pray he did, and God answered his prayer in a grand display of sovereign power. God Himself decimated the Assyrian army — 185,000 of them — in the night (2 Kings 19:35). Later, Sennacherib was killed even as he was bowing before his false god (2 Kings 19:37).

Friends, let us not pray to the Lord as a last resort. Let us not live according to our own strength or wisdom but follow the Lord Jesus, who said, "I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me" (John 8:28). Peter also wrote that whoever speaks should do so as one speaking the very words of God, and whoever serves should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ (a paraphrase of 1 Peter 4:11).

The point of this kind of God-dependent living is not to deny our humanity or freedom but to affirm God's sovereignty and give Him all the glory. When we carefully obey God's Word, we do this. When we humble ourselves and confess our helplessness, we do this. When we earnestly pray for His will to be done and His Name to be exalted in us, we do this.

Hezekiah affirmed God's sovereignty and gave Him glory. Sennacherib did not. God always works in such a way that He is most glorified, for to do otherwise would be to go against His very nature. If we understand this — and all of Scripture gives repeated testimony to it — it will govern all that we do in this life. We too will always work for God's greatest glory. This is also what it means to pray in such a way that we learn to align our wills with God's will.

In every situation, whether easy or hard, let us be true to this calling. It does not matter whether you live only a few years sheltered by cardboard walls on a garbage dump in Mexico City or many years in a magnificent penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows in Manhattan; our calling is the same. Whether rich or poor, hungry or well-fed, in hardship or in ease, we all share the same mission as Paul, who said, "For me to live is Christ" (Philippians 1:21).

AI-Expanded Reflection

The question of when Hezekiah began to trust is a fair one, and the biblical sources offer more than one angle on it. Isaiah 22:8–11 criticizes Jerusalem for inspecting its armory, reinforcing its walls, and building a reservoir, while failing to look to the One who made it all — which supports the comment's reading that prayer came after other strategies. On the other hand, 2 Chronicles 32:1–8 records Hezekiah fortifying the city and then telling the people that Sennacherib had only an arm of flesh, while they had the Lord to fight their battles. Readers weigh these accounts differently, and both are probably true of a real king under real pressure.

Assyria's own record of the campaign survives. Sennacherib's annals, preserved on clay prisms, list the forty-six fortified towns of Judah he took and boast that he shut Hezekiah up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage. Notably, they do not claim the city fell. The reliefs from Sennacherib's palace at Nineveh depict the siege of Lachish in detail — the victory he chose to display was not Jerusalem. Historians have long noted how closely this aligns with the biblical account's shape.

The comment's closing application — prayer as first resort rather than last — stands on firm ground whatever one concludes about Hezekiah's timing. Paul's instruction to present every request to God with thanksgiving (Philippians 4:6) assumes prayer running alongside ordinary action, not waiting until action has failed.

Why do bad things happen to good people?

Hezekiah is considered one of Israel's most faithful kings — Scripture itself says there was no one like him among all of Judah's kings, before or after (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 18:5). He purified the Temple, reestablished its services, and gathered all Israel to celebrate Passover after years of neglect, resulting in a joy in Jerusalem unmatched since Solomon's own days (a paraphrase of 2 Chronicles 30:26).

Then what happens? Sennacherib, king of Assyria, threatens Jerusalem. Hezekiah and Isaiah cry out to heaven in prayer (2 Chronicles 32:20), and the LORD miraculously delivers Jerusalem from Assyria's hands. Afterward, Hezekiah falls ill, near death (2 Kings 20:1) — again turning his face to the wall and praying (2 Kings 20:2). The LORD hears his prayer, sees his tears, and heals him, adding fifteen years to his life. It's specifically in times of trouble and uncertainty that Hezekiah repeatedly turns to the LORD in prayer. After his healing, he himself writes that it was actually for his own benefit that he suffered such anguish (a paraphrase of Isaiah 38:17).

It's genuinely hard to see any "benefit" while in the midst of personal suffering. Like Hezekiah, it's often only in hindsight that we recognize the LORD's hand was working even through our hardest seasons. What does the LORD expect from us during these times? To come to Him in prayer, cry out with real tears, plead for mercy, and then trust Him, saying, as Jesus Himself prayed, not what I will, but what You will (a paraphrase of Mark 14:36).

To God be all the glory!

AI-Expanded Reflection

The specific sequence this comment traces — genuine faithfulness, followed immediately by genuine crisis, followed by genuine deliverance, followed by yet another crisis — is worth noticing as its own honest pattern about the Christian life more broadly, since Hezekiah's story doesn't offer a single crisis resolved once and settled permanently. Faithful obedience here doesn't purchase immunity from further hardship; it simply becomes the established pattern he keeps returning to, crisis after crisis, rather than a one-time transaction completed after the first deliverance. That may be the more honest and durable takeaway than expecting any single answered prayer to be the last hardship faced.

Assyria's army marched against the Northern Kingdom, conquered the land, and removed all its inhabitants — then continued south to devour Judah as well. King Hezekiah refused to subjugate himself and Judah to Assyria's king, and as a result, every city and town fell to Assyria except Jerusalem itself. With Jerusalem now under siege, Assyria's king demands complete surrender, blaspheming the LORD's name and inciting Jerusalem's people to revolt against their own king. Hezekiah was a genuinely great, sincere, godly king among Judah's many — Scripture itself says there was no king like him among all of Judah's kings, before or after, since he held fast to the LORD without ever turning away, keeping the commands the LORD gave Moses, so the LORD remained with him, prospering him in everything he undertook (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 18:5–7).

Rather than complaining to God about this foreign king's harassment, Hezekiah humbled himself before the LORD. God sends Isaiah to comfort him, promising that Ahab wouldn't need to fear the words the Assyrian officials had used to blaspheme Him, since God would cause the Assyrian king to hear a report making him return to his own country, where he'd be cut down by the sword (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 19:6–7).

Israel's miraculous deliverance from Assyria came exactly as the LORD promised through Isaiah. The formidable Assyrian army never even shot an arrow or built a siege ramp against Jerusalem — instead, many of their fighting men were struck down by God's own angel. The LORD showed His mighty power to both Israel and her enemy alike.

I once again realized that living a godly life before the Lord isn't a guarantee against calamity, misfortune, or hardship. My own father had a car accident and nearly lost his life just a couple of days ago — a truck struck him at full speed, barely missing him directly, hitting instead near the gas tank inlet. Had it hit him directly, he might not be here with us today. I've been praying for his salvation for a long time — he now at least attends church, though he hasn't yet accepted Christ. I know this happened for God's purpose, even beyond what my finite understanding can grasp. We pray and tell God our dire situations, exactly as Hezekiah did, and He hears our cry and delivers us from whatever formidable threat we face. We may question why hard things happen, blinded by them, sometimes losing sight of His love and faithfulness — but let's not forget that God genuinely cares, and His deliverance comes, even if not as quickly as we'd like, but surely. Whatever difficulty anyone faces, let's find the strength to hold to the victory already secured on the cross.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Given the very personal, recent crisis this comment shares about the commenter's own father, I'll keep this reflection focused narrowly on the biblical passage itself. Hezekiah's specific response to the blasphemy in this account is worth adding one more detail to — before praying, he first takes Assyria's letter directly into the Temple and physically spreads it out before the LORD (2 Kings 19:14), a small but striking gesture that turns an abstract insult into something laid out concretely for God's own attention. That posture — bringing the actual, specific source of distress into God's presence rather than simply describing it in general terms — is a fitting, practical picture of exactly the kind of honest prayer this comment describes offering during genuine crisis.

Friends, I love this account. Hezekiah and Judah's people are hunkered down in Jerusalem, their last remaining city, as Assyria's vast, seemingly unstoppable army threatens to crush them, offering only surrender or death. But Assyria's messenger foolishly exposes the one weakness that would begin this mighty nation's own downfall: pride. In their arrogance, they not only exalted their own greatness, but insulted and challenged Israel's God directly. And the LORD has to remind them that their greatness and success had always been His doing — they were merely His chosen tool to punish other nations, and Israel, for their sins and idolatry. They would have continued in their success, had they not turned on their own Master — as though a hammer could accomplish anything apart from the hand wielding it.

Hezekiah's seemingly last resort turns out to be his best resort — calling on the LORD. He appeals to God on the basis of His own name, asking Him to save Judah from Assyria's hand specifically so every kingdom on earth would know the LORD alone is God (a paraphrase of 2 Kings 19:19–20). As a result, God fights for Judah, wipes out 185,000 Assyrian soldiers, and sends the rest home in shame, never to return.

Two lessons here. First, it's good to pray for God's provision and protection — Jesus promises His disciples that if they remain in Him, and His words remain in them, they can ask whatever they desire, and it'll be done for them (a paraphrase of John 15:7). What an incredible promise! Second, when we pray, let's always remember to seek what brings Him the greatest glory. Doing so, we can have real confidence God will grant our request.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The specific basis of Hezekiah's prayer is worth noting as a genuinely instructive model of intercession, since he doesn't primarily appeal to Judah's own suffering or need — he appeals directly to what the outcome would demonstrate about God's own character to a watching world. That reframing changes what's actually being asked for: not simply relief for Judah, but vindication of God's reputation, with Judah's rescue functioning as the visible evidence. This comment's own second lesson — praying with God's glory as the actual aim, not just personal relief — is essentially describing this exact pattern Hezekiah models directly in the text.