HHaudio&text
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
1:
"Courage in Crisis"- Exodus 1:15-21, 2 Kings 5:1-4
The
Midwives (Shiphrah and Puah) and Naaman's Servant Girl
2:
"Compassion Across Boundaries"- Exodus 2:5-10, 1 Kings
17:8-16
Pharaoh's Daughter and the Widow of Zarephath
3:
"Wisdom That Protects"- Exodus 18:13-26, 2 Samuel
20:16-22
Jethro and the Wise Woman of Abel Beth Maacah
4:
"Bold Faith in Action"- Numbers 27:1-11, Joshua 2:1-21
The
Daughters of Zelophehad and Rahab
5:
"Speaking Truth in Power"- 2 Kings 22:14-20, Esther
4:12-16
Huldah and Mordecai
6:
"Unexpected Service"- Matthew 27:32, Mark 15:21, Acts
10:7-8
Simon of Cyrene and Cornelius' Servants
7:
"Grace in the Final Hour"- Luke 23:39-43
The
Penitent Thief
8:
"Overcoming Fear to Obey"- Acts 9:10-19
Ananias of
Damascus
9:
"The Ministry of Encouragement"- Acts 4:36-37; 9:26-27;
11:22-26
Barnabas
10:
"Partnership in Ministry"- Acts 18:2-3, 24-26, Romans
16:3-4
Priscilla and Aquila
11:
Creative Service for God's Glory - Exodus 31:1–11; 35:30–35
Bezalel
and Oholiab
12:
Hidden Courage That Preserves Hope - 2 Kings 11:1–3
Jehosheba
13:
Faithful in the Shadows - 2 Timothy 1:16–18
Onesiphorus
14:
Prayer That Moves Heaven - 1 Chronicles 4:9–10
Jabez
15:
Obedient in the Ordinary - Ephesians 6:21; Colossians 4:7
Tychicus
16: Faith
That Crosses Cultures - Book of Ruth
Ruth
17:
A Bold Voice in a Silent Crowd - Judges 3:31
Shamgar
18:
The Legacy of the Forgotten -Mark 2:1–5, Hebrews
11:32–40
Reflection on unnamed or briefly mentioned
faithful servants
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
1: Courage in Crisis, Audio
Welcome, friends. I’m so glad you’ve joined us today for the very first session of our new Bible study series called Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact. Over the next several weeks, we’re going to open our Bibles and discover how God delights in using people the world often overlooks. They’re not the big, well-known names in Scripture. Many of them lived quietly, sometimes even remaining unnamed. But their small acts of obedience made a lasting mark in God’s story—and they still encourage us today.
Now, I know many of us in this group have been Christians for decades. We’ve taught Sunday school classes, we’ve served in church kitchens, we’ve prayed faithfully for loved ones. Some of us may feel like our opportunities for “big” acts of service are behind us. We don’t get out as much as we once did. But here’s the good news—and it’s really good news—God does not measure our worth the way the world does. In God’s eyes, there are no forgotten people, and no act of faith is ever wasted.
Today’s session is called Courage in Crisis. And our focus is on two stories: the Hebrew midwives Shiphrah and Puah in Exodus 1, and a servant girl in 2 Kings 5, who helped lead a powerful military man to the Lord’s healing.
Shiphrah and Puah: Quiet Defiance
Let’s start with Shiphrah and Puah. You’ll find their story in Exodus 1:15–21.
The Israelites had grown numerous in Egypt, and Pharaoh, the king, was afraid of them. So he gave an awful, cruel order. He told two Hebrew midwives that whenever they helped an Israelite woman give birth, if the baby was a boy, they must kill him. Imagine being given such an unthinkable command! But these two women feared God more than they feared Pharaoh. Verse 17 tells us clearly: “The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them. They let the boys live.”
What courage. These women weren’t warriors or queens. They didn’t hold public power. Yet when faced with a moment of decision, they chose obedience to God over fear of man.
And did you notice how they resisted evil? They didn’t raise a rebellion or shout in the streets. Instead, they answered Pharaoh with clever words: “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.” That little bit of wisdom protected them and spared countless lives.
And the Lord saw their bravery. Scripture tells us He was kind to the midwives, that He gave them families of their own, and that the children of Israel multiplied. Think about this: through their quiet defiance, they preserved the very nation from which the Messiah, Jesus Christ, would one day come.
Naaman’s Servant Girl: A Voice of Faith
Now let’s move to our second story, in 2 Kings 5:1–4.
Naaman was a commander in the army of Aram, a powerful man, respected by his king. But Naaman had leprosy, the dreaded skin disease that brought both shame and suffering. In Naaman’s household was a servant girl, captured during a raid from Israel. She was far from her homeland, living as a slave, yet her heart stayed tender toward her God.
One day, she spoke up to Naaman’s wife: “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” Just one sentence. Just one small act of faith. Yet it set everything in motion. Naaman heard about it, went to Elisha the prophet, and was eventually healed—not just in body, but in soul, as he came to acknowledge the God of Israel.
Isn’t it striking? A nameless captive girl—someone who would have been considered unimportant in her culture—became the spark that led a great military leader to faith. All because she dared to speak of God’s power with confidence.
Courage in Our Own Lives
So what do these two stories teach us?
First, they remind us that courage is not about having power or influence—it’s about choosing to trust God when others might give in to fear.
The midwives and the servant girl didn’t set out to make history. But when a crisis came, they made God-honoring choices. And their ripples still reach us today. Like a stone dropped in a pond, their faith continues to send waves through time.
Second, they remind us that God honors the courage of ordinary people. Shiphrah, Puah, and the servant girl were not rulers, prophets, or kings. Yet their obedience mattered greatly to God’s plan.
And third, they encourage us that our lives—right now, even later in life—are still part of God’s ongoing story. We may not stand before kings or generals, but every prayer whispered, every kind word spoken, every act of encouragement is like a ripple that spreads farther than we can imagine.
Think about it: perhaps a phone call to a lonely neighbor, or a note to a young parent who feels weary, might be the very thing God uses to strengthen their faith.
Reflections and Questions
Let me pause and ask: Have you ever been in a situation where you had to choose between doing what was easy and what was right? What gave you the courage to choose the harder but better path?
And here’s a fun reflection: If you could have dinner with someone from history who showed great courage, who would it be? Maybe Corrie ten Boom, who sheltered Jewish families during World War II. Or perhaps one of these midwives themselves. What would you ask them about their moments of fear and trust?
Encouragement for Today
Friends, let me leave you with this thought: In God’s kingdom, courage is not measured by size, age, or circumstance. It is measured by trust.
As Corrie ten Boom once said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” And Charles Spurgeon encouraged believers with these words: “Trust in God, and do the right.”
I know life isn’t easy at times. Many of us face health struggles, worries for our families, or the feeling that the world around us is changing too fast. But the good news is this: the same God who honored Shiphrah, Puah, and a nameless servant girl is still at work in your life and mine.
He doesn’t ask us for grand gestures. Just small steps of faith. A prayer lifted up. A word of truth spoken kindly. A willingness to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. Those small steps can echo far beyond what we see.
Closing Devotional Thought
Picture a still pond on a quiet day. Then imagine dropping in a pebble. The ripples widen and widen, reaching far beyond the center. That’s what courageous faith does. Shiphrah and Puah dropped a pebble when they defied Pharaoh. The servant girl did the same when she spoke to Naaman’s wife. And you and I—we drop pebbles every time we trust God, every time we obey Him, every time we act in love.
We may not know where the ripples will go. But God does. And He promises that not one act of faith is wasted.
Into Action
As you go about your week, consider this: is there one small act of courage God is calling you to take? Maybe it’s speaking a word of encouragement when someone feels hopeless. Maybe it’s sharing a verse with a family member who’s struggling. Maybe it’s simply praying faithfully for someone God has placed on your heart.
Whatever it is, trust that God sees it. Trust that He can carry those ripples far beyond what you imagine.
Let’s close with this encouragement from Matthew 10:28. Jesus said, “Don’t be afraid of those who want to kill your body; they cannot touch your soul. Fear only God.” That’s the courage Shiphrah and Puah had. That’s the faith the servant girl showed. And that’s the trust God still invites us into today.
Thank you for joining me for this first session of Hidden Heroes. Next time, we’ll continue discovering how God delights in everyday obedience. Until then—trust Him, and take that small, courageous step.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
2: Compassion Across Boundaries, Audio
Welcome back, friends. Today we’re looking at the theme Compassion Across Boundaries. Last time we talked about courage, and now the focus turns to compassion—how kindness sometimes comes from the most unexpected people and places. Our Scriptures take us to Egypt, where Pharaoh’s daughter rescued baby Moses, and then to a small town in Sidon, where a poor widow sustained the prophet Elijah during a famine.
Pharaoh’s Daughter: Compassion Greater Than Fear
Exodus 2:5–10 tells us about Pharaoh’s daughter. She went down to the Nile to bathe and noticed a basket among the reeds. Inside was a crying baby boy—Moses. The text says her heart was moved with pity. She immediately recognized that he was a Hebrew child. She would have known her father’s command that all Hebrew boys must be killed. And yet—knowing whose child this was and what it could mean for her—she chose compassion.
Pharaoh’s daughter didn’t just rescue Moses; she gave him opportunity. She arranged for his own mother to nurse him, and later she adopted him as her son. Moses grew up in Pharaoh’s courts, equipped with learning and influence that God would one day use to lead His people out of slavery.
This wasn’t a small or safe decision. It was deliberate rebellion against her father’s orders, and it came at great personal risk. But her compassion overcame fear and family expectation. It crossed the cultural divide between Egyptian royalty and the enslaved Hebrew people.
The Widow of Zarephath: Compassion Even in Need
Then in 1 Kings 17, we meet a widow gathering sticks during a drought. Elijah, God’s prophet, asks her for water and bread. Her reply is heartbreaking: she had only a handful of flour and a little oil left—just enough for one last meal for herself and her son before dying of hunger.
Yet Elijah asked her to first make some bread for him. What a test of faith! And astonishingly, she agreed. She shared out of her scarcity, showing compassion even when her own family’s future seemed hopeless.
And God provided. The jar of flour never ran out. The jug of oil never went dry. Day after day, her household and Elijah had enough to eat, sustained by God’s miraculous provision.
Her small act of trusting compassion placed her in the stream of God’s redemptive work. Though she was not an Israelite, her kindness blessed God’s prophet, and her faith honored the Lord.
What These Women Teach Us
Both of these women—an Egyptian princess and a Gentile widow—were outsiders to Israel. They were not part of God’s chosen people, and yet God used them in critical moments.
Pharaoh’s daughter risked her position to save a Hebrew child.
The widow risked her last meal to care for a stranger.
Neither could see the larger picture—but God was weaving their choices into His great plan of redemption.
Their stories remind us that God’s compassion flows freely across cultural, social, and even spiritual boundaries. Sometimes He uses the most unexpected people—people we might never imagine—as His vessels of kindness.
And doesn’t the same hold true for us? Many of us have received unexpected kindness: perhaps a neighbor stepping in when needed most, or a stranger with just the right word or gesture when we felt unseen. These are glimpses of how God works through ordinary, often unlikely, people to care for us.
Reflection for Us
So let me ask: Has someone ever surprised you with generosity or kindness when you weren’t expecting it? Did it encourage you in your trust of God’s care?
And in your own life—what’s the hardest boundary you’ve had to cross in order to help someone? Was it financial cost? Was it fear? Or maybe the person was simply very different from you. What gave you the courage to show compassion anyway?
Compassion Today
In today’s world, divisions are everywhere—politics, race, beliefs, even within families. But the Bible reminds us that compassion doesn’t stop at lines drawn by culture. Pharaoh’s daughter saw a crying baby and saved him, regardless of ethnicity. The widow of Zarephath saw a hungry stranger and fed him, despite her own desperation.
God still uses this kind of compassion today. Sometimes He calls us to be the ones crossing lines with kindness. Other times, He provides for us through people we wouldn’t expect. His love is bigger than our categories.
Living It Out
So what might living this truth look like for us?
It could mean reaching out to someone we don’t usually connect with—maybe a neighbor who doesn’t attend church, or even someone we usually disagree with.
It could mean giving out of what feels small—maybe just time, a listening ear, or a simple prayer. God can multiply what looks like little.
It could mean being open to receiving compassion as well as giving it. That can be just as humbling, but it reminds us that God provides however He chooses.
Think of Clara Barton, who founded the American Red Cross. During the Civil War, she served soldiers on both sides—not asking who they fought for, but simply seeing them as human beings in need. That’s compassion across boundaries.
Devotional Closing
Friends, compassion is like building a bridge across a wide river. Pharaoh’s daughter built a bridge between Egyptian royalty and Hebrew slavery. The widow built a bridge between Gentile poverty and God’s prophet. And when we act with compassion, we build those same bridges.
You and I may feel limited today—by age, by health, by opportunity. But every simple act of kindness is a bridge for God’s love. A phone call to someone lonely. A prayer whispered for someone in pain. A meal shared, a note written, a listening ear offered.
Compassion doesn’t need to be grand—it just needs to be willing. And when it flows through us, even across differences, God uses it to bring life and hope to others.
Next time, we’ll continue walking with these hidden heroes of faith. Until then, may we each look for one opportunity this week to show compassion—even across a boundary. For we never know how God may multiply it for His purposes.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
3: Wisdom That Protects,
Audio
Today, our theme is Wisdom That Protects. Scripture brings us two very different stories: one of Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, giving him wise counsel, and another of a courageous woman who saved her city with bold words of wisdom. Both remind us that wise advice, humbly given and humbly received, can prevent disaster and preserve lives.
Jethro’s Practical Counsel
In Exodus 18, Moses had just led God’s people out of Egypt. Now, as they camped in the wilderness, Moses sat all day long as judge—listening to disputes, deciding cases, and giving guidance. From morning till evening, the people stood in line waiting for him.
When Jethro, his father-in-law, saw it, he gently asked, “What is this you are doing? Why are you doing it all alone?” Moses explained, “Because the people come to me to seek God’s will.”
Jethro’s reply was wise and direct: “What you are doing is not good. You and these people will wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone.”
Then came the solution: Moses should remain the people’s representative before God, but he needed to delegate everyday matters to capable, trustworthy men who feared God. They would handle the minor disputes, while Moses would oversee the harder ones. Not only would this lighten his load, but it would also ensure the people’s needs were met more quickly and fairly.
What’s beautiful here is Moses’ humility. He could easily have brushed Jethro off. After all, wasn’t he the great leader who spoke with God? But instead, he listened, recognized the wisdom, and did exactly as suggested. His obedience helped prevent burnout and strengthened the community.
The Wise Woman of Abel Beth Maacah
Now let’s turn to 2 Samuel 20. In this story, Israel faced civil conflict. A man named Sheba had stirred up rebellion against King David. Joab, David’s general, pursued him to the town of Abel Beth Maacah and surrounded the city, threatening destruction if Sheba was not turned over.
At that crucial moment, a wise woman called out from the city wall. She asked to speak with Joab, and when he came, she reasoned with him. She reminded him that their city had a reputation for peace and faithfulness in Israel. And she asked, “Why do you want to swallow up the Lord’s inheritance?”
Joab responded that his true target was not the whole city, but only Sheba. If they would hand him over, the city would be spared. The woman returned to her people, persuaded them with her wisdom, and they delivered Sheba to Joab. The city was saved, and the people were spared needless destruction.
Here we see boldness at work. One woman, unnamed in Scripture, spoke wisely and courageously in a tense, dangerous moment. Her careful words preserved her community and stopped violence in its tracks.
Godly Wisdom in Action
Put together, these stories show us just how powerful wisdom can be.
Jethro observed carefully before speaking, offering counsel that protected Moses’ health and strengthened the nation’s leadership.
Moses listened humbly, showing that wisdom must be received, not just spoken.
The wise woman quickly grasped the heart of the issue and spoke boldly, preventing Joab from destroying her entire city.
Her community acted on her counsel, even though it required making a hard decision.
True wisdom isn’t about how much knowledge you have—it’s about knowing when to speak, how to act, and being willing to listen.
Reflection for Us
So let me ask: Who’s the wisest person you know? Is it their age, their experience, their ability to listen? What sets them apart?
And when was the last time you faced the choice to stay silent or to speak up? What moved you toward one or the other?
Trusting God’s Wisdom
These accounts remind us that God often gives wisdom through unexpected sources. Remember, Jethro was not an Israelite; he was a Midianite priest. Yet God used him powerfully to guide Moses. Likewise, the wise woman of Abel was not a prophet or official leader—but her wisdom saved thousands.
It’s humbling, isn’t it? God may speak to us not only through pastors and teachers, but through family, friends, or even a stranger who shares a thoughtful word. And sometimes He calls us to be that voice for others—offering calm, steady wisdom that prevents harm.
Proverbs tells us that “an open rebuke is better than hidden love, and wounds from a sincere friend are better than many kisses from an enemy.” Sometimes, wisdom is simply the courage to speak truth in love, even when it’s not easy.
Devotional Thought
Wisdom is like an umbrella in the storm. When used well, it doesn’t just protect the one holding it—it shields those gathered under it.
Jethro lifted an umbrella of wisdom over Moses and the people of Israel, protecting them from exhaustion and frustration. The wise woman of Abel spread her umbrella over her city, saving it from destruction.
And you and I—we can do the same. We may think our words don’t carry much weight anymore. But a gentle suggestion, a thoughtful question, a calming perspective—these can be exactly the wisdom someone needs. In God’s hands, even small words of counsel can preserve homes, strengthen churches, and guide families.
Living It Out
How do we live this kind of wisdom?
Offer wisdom gently. Like Jethro, take time to observe before speaking. Don’t rush, but share thoughtfully.
Listen humbly. Like Moses, be willing to receive advice—even from unexpected people.
Speak boldly. Like the wise woman, when destruction looms, have courage to step forward and offer peace.
A modern example is Billy Graham. He was not only known for preaching powerfully but also for surrounding himself with wise counselors and listening to their advice. His humility and wisdom protected his ministry from pitfalls that ruined many others. That’s wisdom that protects.
Closing
Friends, wisdom that protects isn’t about always having the answer—it’s about being open to God’s voice through others, and being willing to share godly counsel ourselves. It builds peace instead of division, and preservation instead of destruction.
May we ask God for wisdom: to listen carefully, to speak truthfully, and to walk humbly. For just like Jethro and the wise woman, our words—guided by the Spirit—can still protect lives today.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
4: Bold Faith in Action,
Audio
Today we turn to the theme Bold Faith in Action. In Scripture, bold faith is rarely about making a spectacle of ourselves. Instead, bold faith is about stepping forward when justice and righteousness are at stake—choosing courage over silence, even when it feels risky. We’ll see this in two stories: the daughters of Zelophehad in Numbers 27, and Rahab in Joshua 2. Their backgrounds were very different, but both displayed faith that changed history.
The Daughters of Zelophehad: Voices for Justice
In Numbers 27, we meet five sisters: Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milkah, and Tirzah. Their father, Zelophehad, had died in the wilderness. He left no sons, and by Israel’s law, property passed only through men. These daughters faced the loss not just of land, but of their father’s name and legacy.
Instead of remaining quiet, these women came forward—publicly—to speak before Moses, Eleazar the priest, the leaders, and the whole assembly. They respectfully but firmly asked, “Why should our father’s name disappear from his clan because he had no son? Give us property among our father’s relatives.”
Moses could have dismissed them, but instead he brought their case before the Lord. And the Lord’s answer was clear: “What Zelophehad’s daughters are saying is right.” Their claim changed more than their own situation—it reshaped Israel’s inheritance laws so daughters could receive land when no sons remained.
Their bold step of faith ensured justice for future generations of women in Israel. They didn’t act out of selfishness, but out of a desire for fairness, dignity, and family honor. It’s a reminder that sometimes bold faith challenges systems that don’t reflect God’s heart for justice.
Rahab: Risking Everything for God’s People
Then, in Joshua 2, we meet a very different woman: Rahab. She was a prostitute living in Jericho, a city about to face God’s judgment. When two Israelite spies entered her home, she hid them on her roof. She risked her life, for the king’s men demanded she turn them over.
But Rahab had been paying attention. She had heard stories of how the Lord dried up the Red Sea, how He gave Israel victory over mighty kings. And she believed. As she told the spies, “The Lord your God is God in heaven above and on earth below.”
Rahab’s bold faith acted on that belief. She protected the spies, misdirected the soldiers, and helped Israel’s plan succeed. In return, she asked for mercy for her family. A scarlet cord tied in her window became the sign of her safety. She and her household were spared when Jericho fell. Astonishingly, Rahab would later be listed in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus Christ. This outsider, with a broken reputation, was grafted into God’s redemptive story because of her faith.
Lessons from Bold Women of Faith
What do these stories show us?
The daughters of Zelophehad remind us that bold faith speaks respectfully, yet firmly, against injustice.
Their request was not simply personal—it was rooted in righteousness and fairness.
Rahab reminds us that bold faith acts, even with incomplete information. She didn’t have all the answers, but she trusted what she knew of God’s power and staked everything on Him.
Both remind us that bold faith brings change that lasts beyond the moment. The daughters’ voices changed Israel’s laws. Rahab’s courage saved her family and wove her into God’s covenant story.
And in both cases, God honored their boldness.
Bringing It Closer to Home
Now let’s pause to reflect. Have you ever had to stand up for what was right, even when it was uncomfortable? What gave you courage? Maybe it was your love for someone else, or your conviction of God’s truth.
And think about our world today: If you could ask God to change one unfair situation, what would it be? Poverty? Prejudice? Neglect of the elderly? Our prayers are important, but so are our actions. What small step could you take to be part of the solution?
Bold faith is rarely comfortable, but it is always powerful.
Devotional Thought
Think of bold faith like a key that unlocks doors to justice and mercy. The daughters of Zelophehad turned a key that opened justice for generations of women. Rahab turned a key that opened salvation for her family.
We sometimes think our season for bold action has passed. But bold faith doesn’t depend on age or status. It might look like speaking up when someone is mistreated, making a phone call to encourage a struggling friend, or gently challenging something that isn’t right. These acts—big or small—are still bold when done in faith. And like those sisters or Rahab, we may never see the full ripple effect, but God does.
Culture Connection
We live in a time when many people feel voiceless. Structures of injustice can seem too big for one person to challenge. Yet Scripture tells us the bold faith of five sisters reshaped the nation, and the risky choice of one woman preserved her family. God still uses unexpected voices to do His work.
Living Wisely and Boldly Today
How do we live this out?
Speak up when necessary. If you see someone overlooked or treated unfairly, ask God for courage to respond.
Support those on the margins. Like Rahab, we may be called to stand with those the world avoids.
Trust God with the risks. Bold steps don’t guarantee comfort—but they invite God’s hand to work.
Think of Rosa Parks. She was a quiet woman on a bus who refused to give up her seat. That simple act of bold faith sparked a movement. She didn’t know how history would unfold, but she trusted that what she did was right.
Closing
Friends, bold faith challenges injustice, protects dignity, and opens doors for God’s redemption. The daughters of Zelophehad and Rahab remind us: God doesn’t need perfect resumes or flawless reputations—He uses willing voices in courageous moments.
Perhaps God is nudging you toward a step of bold faith—a prayer spoken aloud, a phone call made, fairness defended, kindness extended. Trust Him to use it, for He delights in using unexpected voices—even yours and mine—for His purposes.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
5: Speaking Truth in Power,
Audio
Today we focus on a theme that touches us all at some point in life: Speaking Truth in Power. Sometimes God places us in positions where our words matter—not just for ourselves, but for others. And in those moments, silence would be easier, but courage is what God calls for. Our two passages today highlight Huldah, a prophetess in Jerusalem, and Mordecai, a man urging Esther to step into her calling.
Huldah: A Prophetess with Authority
Our story from 2 Kings 22 takes place during King Josiah’s reign. The lost Book of the Law had just been rediscovered in the temple. The priests and officials needed to know what God required, so they went in search of a prophet. Now, you might expect them to consult familiar names—Jeremiah or Zephaniah—but instead, they went to Huldah, a prophetess living quietly in Jerusalem.
Huldah did not soften the message. She declared that God’s judgment was coming on Judah for forsaking Him and worshiping idols. Yet, to King Josiah, she also delivered mercy: because he had humbled himself and wept before God, he would not see the disaster with his own eyes.
It’s striking, isn’t it? A woman in the ancient world, sought out by the king’s highest officials, entrusted with delivering God’s word without compromise. She balanced truth and grace, judgment and mercy. That’s what faithfulness looks like when speaking God’s word in a place of influence.
Mordecai: A Call to Courage
Now we turn to Esther 4. When a plot arose to destroy all the Jews, Mordecai sent word to his cousin Esther, who was queen. He told her plainly: “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone will escape. If you remain silent, deliverance will come from somewhere else—but who knows whether you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”
Mordecai’s words pierced through Esther’s fear. They reminded her that her influence was not an accident of history. She was positioned by God for just that moment. She responded with courage, calling for a fast, and resolved to approach the king at the risk of her life: “If I perish, I perish.”
Mordecai’s truth-telling shaped destiny. His courage to speak plainly to Esther gave her the push she needed to embrace the role God had entrusted to her.
Lessons for Us
Huldah and Mordecai show us that speaking truth in power requires both clarity and courage.
Huldah spoke God’s message exactly as she received it. No editing, no softening of the hard parts. True messengers don’t adjust the truth for comfort.
She also conveyed mercy where it applied. Truth doesn’t take away hope; it shows the whole picture of God’s justice and compassion.
Mordecai refused to remain silent. His integrity was not for sale, even when silence might have spared him trouble.
He challenged Esther to see her purpose. He helped her look beyond personal safety to God’s larger plan.
Both risked everything by speaking faithfully. Neither knew how their words would be received—but they feared God more than people.
Applying This in Our Lives
We may not stand before kings, but we do face moments that require truth-telling. It might be in a family situation, where someone needs loving correction. It might be in church life, when a decision needs to be guided by Scripture. Or it could simply be a conversation with a friend weighed down by lies from the world, who needs to hear God’s truth through us.
Speaking the truth to those in authority—whether that authority is a boss, a leader, or even a family elder—is never easy. But God prepares us for such moments. Our job is to be faithful, not fearful.
Let me ask: Have you ever had to speak truth to someone you respected or feared? How did you find courage in that moment? And if you could privately counsel a world leader today, what would you say? What truth would you most want them to hear from God’s Word?
Devotional Thought: Right Place, Right Time
Both Huldah and Mordecai remind us of this: God positions His people exactly where He wants them. Huldah wasn’t living in the palace; she was in the Second District, living out her life as Shallum’s wife. Yet God brought leaders to her door. Mordecai wasn’t wearing a crown; he was fasting in sackcloth at the king’s gate. Yet his words set Esther on her courageous path.
And here’s the encouragement for us: your influence matters where you are right now. God has placed you in your family, your church, your friendships, and your neighborhood for reasons you may not see. At just the right moment, He will give you opportunities to speak truth—to encourage, to guide, to correct, or to comfort.
We often think we aren’t in positions of great influence anymore, but influence isn’t just about titles. It’s about faithfulness. A moment at the dinner table. A phone conversation with a grandchild. A kind but firm word in a church meeting. These are God-ordained places where truth and courage meet.
Culture Connection
We live in a culture that prizes politeness and avoids offense—even at the expense of truth. Political speeches are practiced and polished. Media often spins the story. But God’s kingdom still moves forward through ordinary believers who are willing to speak what is right, even when it’s uncomfortable. Huldah didn’t bend the message for the king. Mordecai didn’t let Esther hide in ease. In the same way, we are called to truth that is steady, humble, and courageous.
Living It Out
So how can we practice this in our own lives?
Use your voice where it counts. Pray first, then say what you believe God would have you say—with grace and love.
Encourage leaders and truth-tellers. Like Mordecai urging Esther, we can encourage pastors, teachers, or family leaders to stay faithful.
Speak truth in everyday moments. A gentle correction to a loved one, a word of Scripture to someone discouraged—these may not feel dramatic, but they carry eternal weight.
A modern example is Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor during World War II, who spoke against the Nazi regime. His courage cost him his life, but his witness echoes for generations. Not all truth-telling leads to such sacrifice, but all truth-telling requires courage.
Closing
Friends, God still places His people in the right places for the right times. Whether it is a prophetess in Jerusalem, a man at the city gates, or a grandmother with her family, His truth is entrusted to ordinary voices.
Will we stay silent when He nudges us to speak? Or will we trust Him enough to say what’s right, even when it feels risky?
Let’s pray for courage to speak God’s truth in love—wherever and whenever He gives us the opportunity. For who knows if we, too, have been placed “for such a time as this”?
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
6: Unexpected Service,
Audio
Some of the most important things God does through us don’t begin with a volunteer sign-up or a grand plan. Often, they happen when we’re interrupted—when we’re pulled into a moment of need we never expected. Today’s focus, Unexpected Service, comes from two stories: Simon of Cyrene carrying Jesus’ cross, and Cornelius’ servants running a simple errand. Both show us how God uses ordinary service, even reluctant service, for extraordinary purposes.
Simon of Cyrene: Carrying the Cross
Matthew 27:32 and Mark 15:21 both tell us about a man named Simon from Cyrene. He was probably in Jerusalem for Passover, and Scripture says he was just passing by when Roman soldiers forced him to carry Jesus’ cross. He didn’t volunteer. He didn’t plan for it. He was compelled—drafted into the scene of history’s greatest moment.
Can you imagine the confusion in his heart? Perhaps the shame of carrying a criminal’s cross, the fear of Roman authority, and the frustration at having his day interrupted. Yet, that unexpected burden aligned Simon forever with the crucifixion of Christ. Mark even mentions Simon as “the father of Alexander and Rufus,” which suggests that his family later became part of the early church. That single moment of interrupted service may have changed his whole household’s story.
Cornelius’ Servants: A Simple Errand
Now turn to Acts 10:7–8. Cornelius, a Roman centurion and a Gentile, received a vision from God to send for Peter. So, he called two servants and a devout soldier and sent them to Joppa. These men were simply doing their duty—faithful servants obeying their master. Yet the errand they carried began one of the most significant turning points in church history: the gospel breaking through to the Gentiles.
They weren’t preachers. They weren’t known leaders. They were runners of errands. But their faithfulness in a seemingly small act opened the door to a movement that would eventually spread the good news to the ends of the earth—including to us.
Lessons for Us
What do Simon and Cornelius’ servants show us?
God often works through interruptions. Simon was “just passing by.” Yet that interruption became sacred history.
Service fills the gaps when others cannot. Jesus could no longer carry His cross, so Simon stepped into that place. Sometimes service means carrying what someone else simply cannot.
Faithful service in small things matters. Cornelius’ servants just followed instructions. But their accuracy and obedience made sure Peter heard the full story.
Service stretches our comfort. Simon carried the cross of a condemned man. The servants, as Gentiles, approached a Jewish religious leader. Real service often pushes us into awkward or costly places.
God honors even reluctant obedience. Simon may not have wanted this assignment. But God wove his unwilling “yes” into His master plan.
For Our Lives Today
Most of us know routine tasks all too well—grocery shopping, household chores, paying bills, checking on family, serving at church. It’s easy to feel those small acts don’t really matter. But our stories today remind us: no service is wasted in God’s hands.
Think for a moment: Have you ever helped someone and only later realized how important that small act was? Maybe it encouraged them more than you knew. Maybe it created a bond of friendship. Perhaps it planted a seed for faith.
Or think of one routine task you do faithfully: cooking, praying, making phone calls, even showing up at church with a smile. What if God is using that act in ways you cannot yet see?
Devotional Thought: Drafted into God’s Plan
Picture Simon: caught off guard, shouldering a cross he never asked for. Picture Cornelius’ servants: simply running an errand, carrying words from their master. Neither looked important. Neither seemed like a “calling.” Yet both became part of God’s unfolding story of redemption.
Here’s the encouragement: God doesn’t need us to always be ready with perfect plans or pure enthusiasm. He needs our availability. Even reluctant moments—when we grumble, when we’re tired, when we feel unnoticed—can be used by Him. Simon carried the weight. The servants carried the message. Both were swept into blessings far bigger than they could understand.
Mother Teresa once said, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.” And God multiplies even the smallest task offered—whether in love, or, like Simon, offered simply because we showed up.
Culture Connection
In our culture, special recognition usually goes to big accomplishments—awards, titles, public achievements. Quiet service is often overlooked. But in the kingdom of God, small faithful acts often matter most. Carrying a cross no one else could. Running an errand that nobody noticed. Making a meal, writing a note, listening to a friend. These humble services become sacred when offered to the Lord.
Changed Life
This truth reshapes how we see interruptions and routine. A changed life learns to say, “God, could You be in this moment?” when an unexpected need appears. Or, “Use this ordinary task for Your purposes” when we do the repetitive, unnoticed work. Service—big or small, reluctant or willing—is part of God’s plan to love the world through His people.
Suggestions
Say Yes to Interruptions. Next time help is needed suddenly, pause before saying “not now.” That interruption may be a sacred invitation.
Serve Faithfully in the Ordinary. Keep doing the everyday things—checking on someone, serving at church, calling a neighbor. God weaves them into His bigger work.
Be Available. Don’t worry about grand plans. Simply being present—like Simon in the crowd—may be exactly what God uses.
A real-life example of this is Edward Kimball, a Sunday school teacher who once quietly visited a teenager working in a shoe shop. That young man was Dwight L. Moody, who became one of the most influential evangelists of his day. Kimball never sought the spotlight. He just showed up and served. His “ordinary” act changed history.
Closing
Friends, sometimes our greatest role in God’s kingdom is not the dramatic act, but the ordinary yes. Whether it’s carrying someone’s burden when they cannot, or faithfully doing the routine work entrusted to us, God can make it extraordinary.
So next time you’re interrupted or asked to help in a way that feels small, remember Simon. Remember Cornelius’ servants. Your service, however reluctant or ordinary, may be part of God’s extraordinary plan.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
7: Grace in the Final Hour,
Audio
Some moments in Scripture shine like a beacon of hope for all of us—and today’s passage is one of them. In Luke 23, as Jesus hung on the cross, two criminals were crucified beside Him. Both began their suffering mocking Him, but one experienced a remarkable change of heart in the very last hours of his life. This penitent thief reminds us of a truth we all need to hear: it’s never too late for God’s grace.
The Thief’s Transformation
As the soldiers and crowds mocked Jesus, one thief joined in—but something changed as the hours dragged on. Maybe he heard Jesus pray, “Father, forgive them.” Maybe he saw Jesus’ quiet strength, His refusal to curse or threaten. Whatever the reason, this man shifted from taunting to believing.
First, he rebuked his companion: “Don’t you fear God, since we are under the same sentence? We are punished justly… but this man has done nothing wrong.” That’s the beginning of repentance—honest acknowledgment of guilt and recognition of Jesus’ innocence.
Then he turned to Jesus with a simple, heartfelt plea: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Notice—he didn’t demand rescue from the cross. He didn’t bargain or justify. He just asked to be remembered. That’s remarkable faith, especially when Jesus looked least like a king—bruised, bloodied, and dying.
And Jesus replied with one of the most stunning promises in all of Scripture: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Immediate, certain, and complete. No delay. No probation. Just grace—in the final hour.
Lessons from the Penitent Thief
Repentance begins with honesty. The thief owned his guilt without excuses. True faith doesn’t hide behind defenses.
Faith recognizes Jesus clearly—even in weakness. While others mocked Him, this man saw a king.
Boldness flows from new faith. He defended Jesus publicly with his last breath.
His request was simple but profound. “Remember me” was enough. Sometimes all faith can say is, “Lord, don’t forget me.”
Grace is immediate. No baptism. No good works. No time left. Just faith. And it was enough.
Hope for Us
This story is often called a “deathbed conversion,” but don’t miss the heart of it: God’s mercy has no expiration date. Salvation isn’t earned by years of effort—it’s received by trust in Jesus.
That means for anyone who thinks they’ve waited too long, or fallen too far—there is hope. And for us who watch loved ones struggle, it reminds us never to give up praying, never to assume someone can’t turn to God, even at life’s end. As Augustine said, “Do not despair; one of the thieves was saved. Do not presume; one of the thieves was damned.”
A Word of Challenge
While it’s encouraging that salvation is possible at any moment, this thief also reminds us of urgency. He turned to Jesus at his last chance. We don’t know when ours—or anyone’s—will be. Grace is always available, but tomorrow is not guaranteed. The best time to turn to God is always now.
Devotional Thought: The Last-Minute Miracle
We live in a world quick to write people off as too late, too broken, too far gone. But at Calvary, a dying man discovered it is never too late while there is still breath and faith. Jesus’ reply wasn’t, “It’s too late, your opportunity has passed.” It was: “Today you’ll be with me.”
Think of it: in his last conscious moments, the thief went from nailed to a cross in shame, to promised a place in paradise with Christ. That’s the power of grace.
And here’s the invitation to us: Do we see others the way Jesus does? Do we believe in “last-minute” mercy? Do we trust His willingness to forgive even when the story seems finished?
Living This Out
Pray for the seemingly unreachable. Ask God to stir faith in those who seem hardened—even if it feels like the final hour.
Extend grace, not judgment. It’s easy to dismiss people by their past. Jesus looked past this man’s rap sheet and saw a soul worth saving.
Receive grace yourself. Many of us carry guilt for years. This passage reminds us that Christ’s forgiveness covers even our worst failures—immediately and completely.
A modern parallel is John Newton, once a slave trader, who repented late in life and wrote Amazing Grace. He often said, “I am a great sinner, but Christ is a great Savior.” His story echoes the thief’s—not too late for grace, not too late for redemption.
Closing
Friends, the penitent thief has a word for every one of us. For those who wonder, “Have I missed my chance?” the answer is no—grace is still here. For those who think of loved ones who reject Christ, take heart—God’s mercy can break through even in the final breath.
True faith sees who Jesus really is, even in His darkest hour. And God’s mercy is wide enough to welcome anyone—whether we’ve followed Him for a lifetime or discover Him in the last moments.
So let us live with urgency, hope, and gratitude, remembering that God’s grace is always enough—right to the very end.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
8: Overcoming Fear to Obey,
Audio
Today’s story is about a believer named Ananias—a man we hear about only once in the Bible, but whose obedience helped change the entire course of Christian history. His life reminds us that God often calls all of us, ordinary believers, beyond our comfort zones. And when we say yes, even in fear, our obedience can open the door for God’s extraordinary purposes.
Ananias’ Call
Acts 9 introduces us to Saul of Tarsus. Saul was the church’s worst nightmare. He hunted Christians. He stormed houses, dragged believers into prison, and approved of their deaths. When we first meet him, he’s carrying orders to arrest followers of Jesus in Damascus.
In the middle of that mission, Saul meets Jesus on the road. Blinded by the encounter, he’s left helpless, fasting and praying in Damascus. And this is where the Lord speaks to an ordinary disciple named Ananias.
“Ananias?”
“Yes,
Lord.”
“Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask
for a man named Saul. Place your hands on him to restore his sight.”
Ananias’ immediate response? Fear. And who could blame him? He said, in essence, “Lord, I’ve heard all about this man. He’s dangerous. He arrests people like me. And now You want me to walk right into his house?”
Yet God’s answer was firm and full of purpose: “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles, their kings, and the people of Israel.”
And Ananias went.
Lessons from Ananias’ Obedience
There are several lessons for us in this story:
He was honest about his fears. Ananias didn’t fake courage. He told God plainly, “Lord, I’m afraid.” God doesn’t shame us when we admit our struggles.
God revealed a bigger plan. Ananias didn’t know Saul’s full story—but God did. Saul would one day become Paul, the apostle who carried the gospel across the Roman world. Ananias’ obedience fit into that plan.
He welcomed Saul with family language. When Ananias entered the house, he placed his hands on Saul and called him “Brother Saul.” Imagine the trust and grace it took to use that word for the very man who had terrorized Christians.
He ministered with both words and actions. He prayed, laid hands on Saul, and restored his sight. Through this act, Saul was healed, baptized, and strengthened.
His obedience became a hinge point for history. Saul of Tarsus became the great apostle Paul—and God used an ordinary disciple’s trembling yes to begin it.
Fear and Obedience in Our Lives
Have you ever felt God nudging you to do something that scared you? Maybe it was forgiving someone who hurt you. Maybe it was talking to a family member about faith, or reaching out to a neighbor you’d rather avoid. Like Ananias, our first instinct is often to say, “Lord, are You sure?”
But here’s the truth: God doesn’t wait for us to be fearless before He asks us to be faithful. We can tell Him our fears honestly, then obey anyway. And when we step forward, even nervously, God provides what we need.
Devotional Thought: When God Asks the Impossible
Think about Ananias. His assignment seemed impossible: heal the church’s enemy. We often feel the same way when God nudges us toward people we’d rather not approach—the critic, the difficult neighbor, even the relative who dismisses our faith.
But notice: God could have healed Saul without Ananias. Instead, He chose to use an ordinary disciple. Why? Because sometimes our obedience toward the unlikely person is part of God’s redemption plan—not just for them, but for us too.
Your simple “yes” may become someone’s turning point.
Culture Connection
We live in a society that tells us to avoid risk, stick with “safe” people, and stay within our comfort zones. But the gospel calls us beyond that. Ananias risked stepping into harm’s way, only to discover that God was already working there. The same is true today: sometimes the people who scare us most are the very ones God intends to transform.
A Changed Life
When we learn to obey even while afraid, our perspective changes. We stop asking, “What if I get hurt?” and start asking, “What if God is about to do something amazing here?” A changed life trusts that God knows the bigger picture, even when we don’t.
Living This Out
Say yes—even afraid. If God prompts you to reach out, pray like Ananias did, but then go. His Spirit will meet you in the moment.
Offer grace where it’s unexpected. Maybe there’s someone others avoid or mistrust. A kind word, a prayer, or even a “Brother” or “Sister” may be exactly what reflects God’s heart.
Trust God with the results. Ananias didn’t know how Saul’s story would unfold, but his obedience set it in motion.
A modern example is Henrietta Mears, a Sunday school teacher who influenced young men like Billy Graham. She wasn’t famous, but her faithfulness launched ministries that impacted millions. Like Ananias, she said yes—and God multiplied the impact.
Closing
Friends, Ananias’ story reminds us that ordinary believers in ordinary places often carry out extraordinary assignments. You don’t have to be fearless to be faithful. You just need to say yes.
And who knows? Your trembling obedience may be the beginning of someone else’s transformation—the hinge on which their story turns.
Hidden
Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session
9: The Ministry of Encouragement,
Audio
Some people are remembered for their boldness. Others for their miracles or their leadership. But today’s story is about someone remembered for something quieter but no less powerful: encouragement. In the book of Acts, we meet Barnabas—a man whose very name means “son of encouragement.” While he never wrote a gospel or a New Testament letter, his gift of believing in others changed the shape of early Christianity.
Barnabas: A True Encourager
We first meet Barnabas in Acts 4. His given name was Joseph, but the apostles nicknamed him Barnabas, “son of encouragement.” And he lived up to that name. In that first picture of him, Barnabas sold a field he owned and gave the proceeds to the apostles—generosity flowing from a heart that wanted to support the church.
Later, in Acts 9, when Saul of Tarsus tried to join the disciples in Jerusalem, no one trusted him. Can you blame them? This was the man who had been arresting Christians and approving their execution. Everyone was suspicious. Everyone, that is, except Barnabas. He took Saul by the hand, brought him to the apostles, and vouched for him. His words opened doors for Saul that otherwise would have remained firmly shut.
And in Acts 11, when the church in Antioch began to grow rapidly, the leaders in Jerusalem sent Barnabas to check things out. He arrived, saw God at work, and was glad. He encouraged the believers to stay strong. Then, noticing the size of the opportunity, Barnabas went out and found Saul to join him. It was at Antioch, under their teaching, that disciples were first called Christians.
Barnabas’ Quiet Power
What makes Barnabas remarkable isn’t flashy ministry—it’s his steady encouragement of others.
Generosity of resources. He sold his land to provide for others. Encouragement often costs something—time, money, or energy.
Generosity of reputation. He risked his good name by vouching for Saul when everyone else doubted. Encouragers open doors for people who cannot open them themselves.
Generosity of vision. He saw Paul’s gifts and brought him into ministry. Later, he gave John Mark a second chance after failure. Mark eventually wrote the Gospel that bears his name. That’s the fruit of encouragement.
Generosity of humility. For a time, it was “Barnabas and Paul.” Soon Paul’s leadership became more prominent, and Barnabas stepped back. True encouragers don’t compete with the people they lift up.
Because of Barnabas, Paul had his start. Because of Barnabas, Mark had his recovery. Barnabas proves that encouragement multiplies, shaping leaders who go on to shape the church.
Reflection for Us
Think about your own life. Who has been a Barnabas to you? Who encouraged you when you doubted yourself? Maybe it was a parent, a teacher, a pastor, or even a friend. Their words likely shaped important choices in your life.
Now, who in your circle could use a Barnabas right now? A grandchild uncertain about their future? A neighbor going through a hard season? A church member quietly serving without recognition? What simple word or gesture this week could remind them of their value?
Devotional Thought: The Gift of Believing in Someone
Barnabas never sought the spotlight. His ministry was quietly powerful: believing in people when others would not.
Picture it. Paul, the former persecutor, arriving in Jerusalem with no friends and no credibility. Barnabas stood beside him and said, “I believe him.” Suddenly, the door to ministry swung open. Years later, John Mark failed on a missionary journey. Paul gave up on him, but Barnabas did not. He gave him another chance. And Mark became a gospel writer.
Barnabas’ legacy is this: he believed in people. That was his gift. That’s what God used.
And that’s something God can still use in us—when we tell someone, “I see God working in your life,” or “I’m proud of you for not giving up.” Small words, but deeply powerful.
Culture Connection
In our culture, criticism comes easily. News and social media often focus on tearing people down. But encouragement stands out. It brings life where there is heaviness. In a world quick to dismiss or “cancel,” encouragement restores, uplifts, and creates space for second chances.
A Changed Life
When we practice encouragement, our perspective changes. We stop seeing people just as they are and begin to see what God is shaping them to become. That shift helps us partner with God in cultivating others’ faith. A changed life isn’t just one encouraged by others, but one that becomes an instrument of encouragement to others.
Living This Out
Speak life into someone’s potential. Think of one person who needs to hear, “I believe in you.” Tell them this week.
Write it down. A short note or card reminding someone of their worth can be treasured for years.
Look intentionally for unnoticed servants. At church, thank the one setting up chairs or running the sound board. Their quiet service deserves encouragement too.
A modern example is Fred Rogers—“Mister Rogers.” His entire ministry was encouragement. He looked into the eyes of children and told them they mattered. He believed in their potential and made kindness his platform. In his own way, Fred Rogers was our modern Barnabas.
Closing
Friends, Barnabas shows us that one of the most powerful ministries isn’t preaching or leading—it’s simply encouraging. Believing in someone else at just the right moment. Opening doors. Offering second chances. Speaking life. That’s the kind of ministry that shapes leaders and changes the church.
This week, let’s ask God to make us more like Barnabas—people who see potential, speak life, and pass on the gift of encouragement. Because sometimes, the greatest impact comes not from being the hero of the story, but from helping someone else become who God created them to be.
Next session, we’ll talk about Hospitality That Welcomes and discover how God uses open doors—and open hearts—to advance His kingdom.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 10: "Partnership in Ministry" , Audio
Welcome back, my friends. I’m so glad you’ve chosen to join me for today’s study. Many of you have walked with the Lord for decades, you’ve served in churches, raised families, prayed faithfully, encouraged others, and lived through many seasons of life. And while our pace of life may be slower now, the truth is, God still has ways for us to make an eternal impact. Today, we’ll be looking at a couple in the New Testament who show us what it means to serve together in everyday life — Priscilla and Aquila.
Our study today is called Partnership in Ministry, and it comes from several passages: Acts 18, Acts 18:24–26, and Romans 16. These verses highlight this faithful husband and wife who used their home, their work, and their marriage as tools in the Lord’s service. Their story is both ordinary and extraordinary. Ordinary, because they were tentmakers by trade — not wealthy business owners, not priests, not rulers. And extraordinary, because their faithfulness helped strengthen the church in its earliest days.
Let me set the scene. In Acts 18, Paul arrives in Corinth and meets a Jewish couple named Aquila and Priscilla. Claudius, the Roman emperor, had forced all Jews out of Rome, so they had relocated to Corinth and started working as tentmakers. Paul, who also knew this trade, began working alongside them. But it didn’t stop there. They welcomed him into their home, sharing life as well as work. Their shop became more than just a business; it became a meeting point where conversations about Christ could naturally flow.
Now, that doesn’t sound too unusual, does it? Many of us have seen how ordinary workplaces can become places of witness. Maybe your job years ago gave you opportunities to share your faith with coworkers or to encourage someone during a hard season. That’s exactly what Priscilla and Aquila were doing. They didn’t build a wall between “spiritual life” and “work life.” They simply brought their love for Jesus into both.
But their ministry wasn’t limited to their occupation. Scripture tells us that they opened their home as a place for ministry. In Romans 16, Paul sends greetings to this couple, mentioning that the church was meeting in their house. Picture that for a moment: believers gathering in their living room, breaking bread together, praying, and encouraging one another in faith. Their home became a safe refuge for God’s people. Isn’t that a beautiful thought? Homes, no matter how large or small, can become sanctuaries when they are opened for the Lord’s work.
One of the most powerful moments in their story happens in Acts 18:24–26. A young, gifted preacher named Apollos was teaching in Ephesus. He was passionate, eloquent, and bold, but he didn’t yet have the full picture of Jesus. Now here’s what I find remarkable: Priscilla and Aquila didn’t embarrass him, they didn’t correct him harshly, and they didn’t stand up in the synagogue to declare everything he was missing. Instead, they invited him into their home. Over what was likely an ordinary meal, they patiently explained Jesus more fully to him. That quiet act of mentoring had a multiplying effect, because Apollos went on to play a key role in the growth of the church at Corinth.
It’s striking, isn’t it? Sometimes we wonder, “What difference could I make at my age?” But Priscilla and Aquila show us the power of small gestures. A listening ear, a word of encouragement, an open door, a meal at the table — these ordinary offerings become ways God uses us to shape lives. Their quiet, faithful presence helped sharpen one of the great teachers of the early church, simply because they were willing to invite him in.
Paul later writes in Romans 16 that Priscilla and Aquila even risked their lives for him. We don’t know the details, but we know it must have been serious for Paul to say that all the Gentile churches were grateful for them. Their devotion to Christ and their courage to protect others made them trusted ministry partners for Paul. He didn’t call them assistants, or helpers, but co-workers. That speaks volumes about the respect and value he placed on them.
Now, tucked within all these references to Priscilla and Aquila is another small but fascinating detail. Four out of six times this couple is mentioned in Scripture, Priscilla’s name comes first. That was unusual in those days. Many believe this suggests she may have been the more visible teacher or the one who took the lead in certain aspects of ministry. But here’s the important thing: there is never a sign of competition between them. Their partnership wasn’t about who was most important. It was about using their combined gifts for the Lord. Isn’t that refreshing? In a world where people often measure status and power, their story is about complementing each other, not competing with one another.
For those of us who are married, this shows us a glimpse of what teamwork in a godly marriage can look like. For those who are single, widowed, or partnered in friendship and service, the lesson still applies: God often works through relationships — whether between spouses, friends, or coworkers. Partnership multiplies impact. Two together accomplish what one alone cannot.
So what does all of this mean for us today? Many of us may no longer host big gatherings or have busy workplaces bustling with opportunities. But we do still have homes, relationships, and influence. We still have the ability to encourage someone younger in the faith, to write a note, to offer prayer, to invite a neighbor over for coffee, to faithfully intercede for missionaries and church leaders. And every time we do, we live out the same spirit that Priscilla and Aquila demonstrated.
Their story reminds us that ministry is not confined to church buildings. It’s not limited to pastors or missionaries. Ministry happens at the dinner table. It happens in quiet living rooms. It happens when we offer hospitality, when we listen well, when we take time to guide someone in faith. God delights in using ordinary moments for extraordinary purposes.
And here’s one more encouragement: their story shows us that faithfulness lasts. Priscilla and Aquila weren’t shooting stars that made one big splash and then disappeared. They had a long faithfulness, serving consistently over years, in different places, through many circumstances. Friends, at our stage in life, what a gift it is to know that long faithfulness matters. You may not feel as strong or active as you once were, but your years of consistent love, prayer, and encouragement have been shaping the lives of others all along. And even now, you still carry that same potential.
As we close, let me leave you with this thought: God doesn’t ask us to be spectacular, just faithful. He doesn’t require us to have perfect knowledge or flawless energy, just open hearts and willing hands. Like Priscilla and Aquila, we can take the resources God has given us — our homes, our wisdom, our friendships, our stories — and offer them back to Him. When we do, He multiplies them in ways that ripple through the lives of others.
Billy Graham once said, “A good marriage is the union of two forgivers. When couples work together in ministry, they multiply not only their effectiveness but also their joy in serving God.” And the early church father John Chrysostom observed, “The love of husband and wife is the force that welds society together. When that love is dedicated to God’s service, it becomes a powerful witness to the world.”
But beyond marriage, this is true of any partnership for God’s work. When you stand side by side with someone in faith — whether a spouse, a dear friend, or a fellow believer at church — you amplify one another’s efforts. You remind each other to press on. You reflect the love of Christ more fully.
So I encourage you this week: think of one person you could invest in, even in a small way. Invite them to talk about faith. Offer to pray with them. Share a little of your story. That simple step may echo far beyond what you ever imagined.
Let’s pray together.
“Father, thank You for the example of Priscilla and Aquila. Thank You for reminding us that You use ordinary people in ordinary places to do extraordinary things. Help us to see our homes, our conversations, and our relationships as opportunities for ministry. Give us open hearts to invest in others and open hands to share what we have. Teach us to serve together so that our lives, like theirs, will bear witness to Your kingdom. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Thank you for joining me for this study, friends. May you go into this week encouraged, knowing that God delights in using your life, right where you are, to multiply His kingdom work.
Would you like me to also craft a short closing “take-home reflection” section, almost like a devotional reminder your group could carry with them for the week?
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 11: Creative Service for God's Glory, Audio
Welcome, friends. I’m so glad you’ve joined me again today as we continue our journey through Scripture. You know, one of the things I cherish about opening God’s Word together is that it never treats our lives as “ordinary.” Even the small things, the daily things, the talents we may take for granted—God has a way of weaving those into His beautiful story of redemption.
Today, we’re going to look at two men who don’t often get much spotlight in the Bible, but their role was incredibly important. Their names are Bezalel and Oholiab, and we find their story in Exodus 31 and Exodus 35. These men weren’t priests, they weren’t prophets, and they weren’t kings. They were craftsmen—skilled workers with steady hands. And yet, God called them by name, filled them with His Spirit, and gave them the privilege of building the tabernacle, that sacred tent where His presence dwelled among His people.
Let’s hear how Exodus 31 begins: “Look, I have specifically chosen Bezalel son of Uri, grandson of Hur, of the tribe of Judah. I have filled him with the Spirit of God, giving him great wisdom, ability, and expertise in all kinds of crafts.” Isn’t that something? God didn’t just ask Moses to lead, or Aaron to serve as priest. He looked at this humble craftsman, called him out by name, and poured His Spirit into him so his skills would serve a holy purpose.
And let’s not miss Oholiab. The Lord personally appointed him, as well, to assist Bezalel. Together they were not only builders but also teachers. Exodus 35 tells us the Lord gave them the ability to pass on their skills to others. So this was not a one-man show. It was a team effort, a shared calling, where God used multiple gifts to accomplish His purpose.
Now, sometimes we fall into thinking that spiritual work is just for pastors, teachers, or missionaries. But this part of the Bible reminds us that God delights in using every kind of gift. Cooking, sewing, woodworking, quilting, fixing cars, painting, writing, gardening—whatever He has put in our hands. When these talents are offered to Him, they become as much an act of worship as a sermon or a hymn.
Imagine the beauty of that tabernacle: the lampstand with its golden blossoms, the richly colored curtains of blue, purple, and scarlet thread, the carved wood, the engraved gemstones. Every stitch, every carved edge, every detail mattered to God. Why? Because beauty reflects His nature. The same God who painted the sky at sunrise and scattered wildflowers in the fields invited His people to create beauty for His glory.
And this, my friends, is the lesson for us today: our skills—no matter how modest they seem—are sacred when we place them in His hands. A quilt, a loaf of freshly baked bread, a handwritten card, a garden bursting with color, even the repairs we make around the house—these may feel small, but when done in love and offered to God, they become holy service.
Maybe you’re thinking, “Well, I’m older now. I don’t have the strength I once did.” That’s true for many of us. But listen again to what Scripture says: the Spirit of God gave Bezalel not only skill but wisdom. With age comes a wisdom that is worth more than gold. And what did Bezalel and Oholiab do with their skills? They taught others. That means part of our calling, especially later in life, is to pass along what God has given us to younger generations. A recipe, a verse, a prayer, a way of living that is faithful—these are gifts worth sharing.
You know, I think of a quilt. At first it looks like scraps—just leftover pieces of fabric. But when they’re stitched together with love, they become a blanket that brings warmth and beauty. In the same way, your skills, your stories, your wisdom, even your struggles, when offered to God, are stitched into His greater design. Nothing is wasted in His hands.
Culture often tells us that creativity is for the young or for professionals who can draw, paint, or build something impressive. But God sees it differently. He values the homemade card tucked into an envelope, the cookies baked for a neighbor, the small garden carefully tended, the note of encouragement written to a friend. These are creative acts of service, and when they point to His love, they shine with eternal value.
This story also challenges us to think differently about work itself. Bezalel and Oholiab remind us that there’s no such thing as “just a job” when it’s done for the Lord. Our work—whether building, cooking, organizing, teaching, or repairing—can be ministry. Scripture says in Colossians 3:23, “Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.” That means every act, every effort, can be transformed into worship if it’s done with the right heart.
So how can we live this out today? Start by asking, “Lord, what do I have in my hands, and how can I use it for You?” For some, it might be using sewing or quilting gifts to bless someone in need. For others, it might be baking bread for a neighbor who’s lonely or writing cards for missionaries and church members. Maybe it’s helping a friend with small tasks, offering a listening ear, or tending to the beauty of God’s creation in your yard or garden. None of it is too small. In fact, it’s in the small acts that God often works most powerfully.
There’s a story I love about Lilias Trotter, a missionary and artist in the late 1800s. She was a gifted painter, but she gave up a career in art to serve in North Africa. Even so, she continued to draw and write, and those sketches and reflections still point people to God’s beauty more than a century later. Her art became ministry—not because it was displayed in galleries, but because it was offered to God.
Friends, you and I may not be building the tabernacle like Bezalel and Oholiab, but we are building something. With every note of encouragement, every meal shared, every prayer lifted, every stitch sewn, every act of care, we are building up the temple of God’s people—the church.
Let me leave you with this: God does not ask us to bring what we don’t have. He simply asks us to offer what we do have. When we do, His Spirit fills it and multiplies it beyond what we can imagine.
Charles Spurgeon once said, “Every faculty you have, my friend, was given you by God, and ought to be used for God.” And Francis Schaeffer added, “A Christian should use these arts to the glory of God, not just as tracts, mind you, but as things of beauty to the praise of God.”
So let’s ask ourselves: if God invited us to help decorate His house today, what skill would we bring to Him? What’s in our hands right now that He can use for His glory?
Let’s pray together.
“Gracious Lord, thank You for giving us skills, talents, and creativity. Thank You for reminding us through Bezalel and Oholiab that every gift, no matter how practical or simple, can be used in Your service. Teach us to see our lives, our abilities, and our days as opportunities for worship. May everything we make with our hands and everything we do with our hearts point people to Jesus. In His name we pray. Amen.”
Thank you for joining me for today’s study, my friends. As you go into this week, may you see your creativity, your skills, and even your small acts of service as sacred gifts offered to God. Remember, in His hands, nothing you do is ordinary—it all becomes part of His glorious work.
Would you like me to also write a short reflection exercise at the end of the script, something your group could carry into the week—like a simple question or practice to help them live this passage out daily?
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 12: Hidden Courage That Preserves Hope, Audio
Welcome, friends. I’m so glad you’ve joined me again today as we open God’s Word together. Over and over, Scripture reminds us that the Lord often does His greatest work through people who aren’t standing center stage. In fact, behind-the-scenes faithfulness has always been one of His favorite tools. Today, we’re going to see that in the story of a remarkable woman named Jehosheba.
We meet her in 2 Kings 11, at one of the darkest times in Judah’s history. Queen Athaliah had seized the throne after her son, King Ahaziah, died, and to secure her power, she began to destroy the rest of the royal family. It’s almost unthinkable—children being hunted down in order to eliminate the line of David. If she had succeeded completely, the royal line through which God had promised to bring the Messiah would have ended right then.
But in the middle of this chaos, one quiet act of bravery made all the difference. Scripture tells us that Jehosheba, the sister of King Ahaziah, took his infant son, Joash, and hid him away with his nurse. She concealed him in the temple, right under Athaliah’s nose, and he remained hidden there for six years until the time came for him to be revealed as king. Think of it: one courageous decision, made without fanfare, preserved the hope of God’s people and ensured the faithfulness of God’s promise.
Now, Jehosheba wasn’t a queen ruling with authority, and she wasn’t a prophet thundering in the public square. What she did was quiet. She simply saw danger threatening a helpless child and she stepped in. And yet her action safeguarded God’s promise of a Savior through the line of David. Without her, the family line might have ended. With her, hope endured.
What’s striking is that Jehosheba lived in two very different worlds. She was the daughter of King Jehoram and related to Queen Athaliah—a family line soaked in rebellion against God. Yet she was also married to Jehoiada, the high priest, a man devoted to the Lord. In a moment of crisis, she had to choose which side to stand on. Would she allow evil to run its course, or would she risk her life to resist? She chose courage. And she chose faithfulness to God over loyalty to corrupted family ties.
Isn’t that such a powerful picture of how our choices, even the hidden ones, can shape the future? She didn’t take up a sword, she didn’t fight a visible battle. Instead, she used wisdom and discernment. She acted quickly, she coordinated with her husband, and together they protected the boy until the time was right. Sometimes, friends, courage doesn’t look like standing on a battlefield. Sometimes it looks like protecting, praying, waiting, and watching for God’s timing.
And here’s what touches me most about her story: Jehosheba probably never thought of herself as a hero. She simply saw what needed to be done and did it. Isn’t that often how courage works in our lives too? Many of you know what it’s like to make sacrifices for your children, or to protect a vulnerable loved one, or to stand up quietly for what’s right when others won’t. You didn’t do it for credit, you didn’t do it for recognition—you did it because it was the right thing. And that, my friends, is courage in its purest form.
This story reminds us that courage is not always loud. It doesn’t always come with applause or headlines. The truth is, most real courage is hidden—done in kitchens, living rooms, prayer closets, hospital hallways, or nursing homes. It’s the quiet decision to stay faithful. It’s protecting someone’s dignity. It’s praying for loved ones every day, even if they never know. It’s guarding truth and hope for the next generation.
Think of how much was preserved because Jehosheba chose courage. The child she protected, little Joash, would one day take the throne and be part of God’s line leading to Jesus. Her hidden act became part of God’s eternal plan. Friends, never underestimate what God can do through even the smallest steps of faithfulness.
This connects so beautifully with other stories in Scripture. When the Hebrew midwives defied Pharaoh and spared the Israelite babies, they saved a generation that included Moses. When Rahab hid the spies in Jericho, her faith preserved not only her family but also her place in the family line of Jesus. When Esther took her stand—first hidden in the palace—she rose at just the right moment “for such a time as this.” Over and over again, God honors quiet, hidden acts of faith and multiplies them beyond what we could imagine.
So how do we take this to heart today? For many of us, our lives don’t feel dramatic anymore. We may not travel far or stand before large crowds. But that’s not what God is asking of us. He calls us to faithfulness in the place we are. To quietly preserve hope through prayer. To protect the next generation by telling the stories, by modeling integrity, by staying steady in our faith. To look for the vulnerable ones—grandchildren, neighbors, friends—who need encouragement, and to quietly shield them in whatever ways we can.
Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is something no one else sees. A whispered prayer. A faithful word of truth. A hidden act of kindness. Those are the Jehosheba moments God uses to safeguard His promises.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God. God will be constantly crossing our neat little plans.” And Corrie ten Boom, who knew something about hidden courage, said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” Jehosheba’s story echoes those truths. She didn’t know how the future would unfold—she just trusted God enough to risk protecting it.
So this week, let her story encourage you. Whatever quiet act God is calling you to—do it with courage. Do it with faith. And trust that He sees and values it, even if no one else ever does.
Let’s pray together.
“Lord, thank You for the story of Jehosheba and her hidden courage. Thank You for reminding us that bravery is not always loud, but sometimes is quietly lived in hidden acts of faithfulness. Help us to be steady, to protect what is precious, to preserve hope for the next generation. May our prayers, our actions, and our faith—no matter how unseen—be used by You to keep Your promises alive in this world. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Thank you for joining me for today’s study, friends. May you go into this week remembering that even your quietest acts of faith are seen by God and may carry forward hope for others long after you are gone.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 13: Faithful in the Shadows, Audio
Welcome, my friends. I’m so glad you’re here with me today as we walk a little further into God’s Word. One of the sweetest blessings of studying the Bible together is that it reminds us again and again that the Lord values the quiet acts of faithfulness—the things we might overlook or think unimportant—that often become the most powerful reflections of His love.
Today, our focus will be on a man whose name you don’t hear very often in sermons or Sunday school lessons, but whose story carries deep encouragement. His name is Onesiphorus, and we find him in 2 Timothy 1:16–18. Paul writes these words:
“May the Lord show special kindness to Onesiphorus and all his family because he often visited and encouraged me. He was never ashamed of me because I was in chains. When he came to Rome, he searched everywhere until he found me. May the Lord show him special kindness on the day of Christ’s return. And you know very well how helpful he was in Ephesus.”
Can’t you just hear the gratitude in Paul’s voice? He had been abandoned by many who once stood by him. Rome was not a safe place to be identified as Paul’s friend, especially when Paul was viewed as a criminal for preaching the gospel. But in that hard, lonely chapter of Paul’s life, Onesiphorus didn’t step back—he drew near.
The truth is, Paul didn’t need someone to fix everything. He didn’t need clever speeches or strategies to secure his release. What he needed was encouragement. He needed someone to look at his chains and say, “I’m not ashamed to stand with you.” Onesiphorus did exactly that. Paul says he “refreshed” him. Isn’t that a beautiful word? Just being present, just showing loyalty and companionship, breathed life back into the weary apostle.
Now, that sounds simple—just showing up—but let’s not underestimate what this meant. In Rome, visiting someone in prison was socially dangerous. If you were tied to a prisoner accused of treason or stirring rebellion, suspicion could fall on you too. Onesiphorus knew the risk, but he searched for Paul anyway. Verse 17 tells us he didn’t stumble across him by accident—he “searched everywhere until he found him.” That’s persistence. That’s love in action.
And what strikes me most about this small glimpse of his life is that Onesiphorus wasn’t doing any of this for recognition. He didn’t visit Paul so his name would appear in Scripture. He didn’t search for him so he could earn applause. His faithfulness was born from loyalty, from genuine friendship, and from the compassion of Christ working through him. Paul remembers him with such gratitude that, even near the end of his own life, he prays for God’s mercy and kindness to rest on Onesiphorus and his family.
Friends, doesn’t that remind us of the people who have stuck by us in difficult times? Maybe you’ve had an “Onesiphorus” of your own—a neighbor who came by to sit with you in your grief, a friend who visited you in the hospital, someone who stayed in touch during a lonely season, refusing to let you feel forgotten. Those people leave a mark on our hearts, don’t they?
But here’s the other side of the lesson: not only do we need an Onesiphorus—we are also called to be one. Encouragement is a ministry. It’s part of how God strengthens His church. And sometimes the most Christlike thing you or I can do is simply show up, sit down, hold a hand, and remind someone they aren’t alone.
Think of job’s friends in the Old Testament. Before their words got tangled, the best thing they did was simply sit in silence with him, sharing his grief. Think of Ruth, who chose to walk with Naomi into a future she did not know. Think of Jonathan, who came out to find David in the wilderness when Saul was hunting him, and who strengthened his hand in the Lord. In each case, encouragement wasn’t about fixing the problem. It was about standing faithfully with someone in their struggle.
That’s what we see in Onesiphorus. Faithful in the shadows. Present in the hard places. Unashamed of the chains. Persistent enough to search until he found Paul. That is friendship with the fragrance of Christ.
Now let’s bring this closer to home. In our world today, friendship can often be shallow. We might have plenty of contacts, but when suffering comes, it can feel very lonely. Sometimes, when someone falls on hard times, people avoid them because they don’t know what to say or are uncomfortable around pain. But Christian friendship reflects Christ Himself, who promises never to leave or forsake us. Being an Onesiphorus means showing up when it’s hard, staying when it’s costly, and refreshing weary souls by the gift of your presence.
Maybe you’re thinking, “Well, I can’t travel anymore. I can’t do the things I used to.” But keep in mind, presence is more than physical. A phone call, a handwritten note, a prayer spoken in secret—all of these are ways to refresh someone in Christ’s love. And they may mean more than you ever know.
Henri Nouwen once said, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.” That’s the kind of ministry Onesiphorus lived out. It still shines as an example for us today.
So let me encourage you this week with a simple but powerful challenge: think of one person who may be feeling forgotten, alone, or burdened. Ask God to show you how to encourage them. It could be a prayer for them daily. It could be a note in the mail. It could be a call or a visit. However you do it, choose to show up. Offer companionship. Be faithful in the shadows.
Because here’s the truth: when you do that, you are reflecting Christ Himself—the One who came to be Emmanuel, “God with us.” Jesus did not stay distant from our suffering. He entered it. He bore it with us and for us. That is what true faithfulness looks like.
Thank you, friends, for joining me today. Remember, the ministry of encouragement is never wasted. May the Lord use each of us as a source of comfort and hope in the lives of others—faithful, steady, and shining with the love of Christ.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 14: Prayer That Moves Heaven, Audio
Welcome, dear friends. It’s a joy to be with you again today as we dive into a short but powerful story from Scripture—one that encourages us to pray boldly and trust God fully. We’re going to spend some time with a man named Jabez, whose prayer, though brief, opens a window into how we can approach God with confidence and heartfelt faith.
You find his story tucked away in 1 Chronicles 4:9-10. The passage says, “There was a man named Jabez who was more honorable than any of his brothers. His mother named him Jabez because his birth had been so painful. He prayed to the God of Israel, ‘Oh, that you would bless me and expand my territory! Please be with me in all that I do, and keep me from all trouble and pain!’ And God granted his request.”
What a remarkable moment, isn’t it? A man whose name means ‘pain’ or ‘sorrow’ chooses to pray for blessing instead of limitation. Imagine the courage it took to ask God for blessing and growth when his name and perhaps his reputation were tied to hardship. But Jabez didn’t accept that as his destiny. He prayed for God to rewrite his story, and the Bible tells us that God answered his prayer.
Let’s take a closer look at what Jabez asked for, because it’s an example of prayer that is both bold and deeply honest. First, he asked God to bless him. That blessing likely goes beyond material wealth. It’s spiritual blessing, favor in relationships, peace in heart and mind, wisdom to walk rightly. Next, he asked God to enlarge his territory. Now, that phrase can mean more than land. In a spiritual sense, it’s about influence—growing the sphere where God works through us, extending the reach of our faith, touch, and service to others.
Jabez also asked for God’s hand to be with him. That’s a beautiful acknowledgment that, on his own, he couldn’t succeed. He needed the guidance, strength, and presence of God every step of the way. And finally, he asked to be kept from harm, to be protected so that pain would not be his constant companion. Remember, his name was linked to pain, but through this prayer, he asked for a new future—one shaped by God’s protection and care.
This prayer isn’t about tiptoeing around God with timid requests, nor is it a demand for more than is right. It’s a heartfelt invitation to walk with God boldly, trusting fully in His goodness and sovereignty. Jabez shows us that it’s okay, even good, to ask for blessing, opportunity, strength, and protection. God delights in hearing such prayers when they come from a sincere, humble heart aligned with His purposes.
Think about your own prayer life for a moment. Have you ever hesitated to ask God for something big because you felt undeserving or worried you’d be bothering Him? Jabez’s story invites us to lay those fears down. God isn’t put off by our boldness; rather, He welcomes our honest, confident prayers.
There’s a beautiful truth here: prayer is like opening a window to let fresh air into a stuffy room. The good things God can do are always available, but they flow in only when we open ourselves up through faith and trust.
Our fast-paced culture sometimes teaches us to rush through prayer or treat it as a last resort. But Jabez’s prayer challenges us to make prayer our first step, our boldest step, our daily lifeline.
I’m reminded of George Müller, a man of prayer who faithfully ran orphanages by simply trusting God’s provision. He didn’t ask for small things—he prayed boldly, knowing God could do immeasurably more than he could imagine. And God always answered.
So how can we live this out? Start by praying like Jabez—with honesty about your needs, boldness in your requests, and trust in God’s loving care. Ask Him to bless your life, to enlarge your influence for good, to be present with you in every step, and to protect you from harm. And pray similarly for those you love, that they too will experience God’s blessing and guidance.
Remember, faith-filled prayer moves heaven, invites God’s presence, and shapes lives—not just ours, but everyone we touch.
Thank you for sharing this moment of study. May you carry with you the courage to pray boldly and the peace that comes from trusting God’s gracious answers.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 15: Obedient in the Ordinary, Audio
Welcome back, dear friends. It’s a blessing to share God’s Word with you again. Today, we’re going to learn about a man named Tychicus, someone who played a quiet but crucial role in the early church. His story reminds us that faithful service in ordinary tasks is essential to the health and mission of the body of Christ.
Tychicus isn’t one of the famous apostles or miracle workers we often hear about. He was a beloved brother, a faithful servant, and a trusted helper of the Apostle Paul. Paul himself describes Tychicus as “a beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord’s work” (Ephesians 6:21) and says he will bring a full report about Paul’s situation to the churches (Colossians 4:7).
In Paul’s day, carrying letters was no small job. There were no postal services, no phones, no email. Delivering messages meant walking long, dangerous roads, often facing threats from bandits and harsh weather. Paul entrusted Tychicus with his most precious letters—like Ephesians and Colossians—letters inspired by the Holy Spirit that would shape the church for generations. Can you imagine the trust Paul had in Tychicus? He didn’t just hand him a note; he handed him the very words of God for the church.
But Tychicus did more than deliver letters. Paul sent him to encourage and comfort the believers, to strengthen their hearts and answer their questions about Paul’s circumstances. And alongside Tychicus traveled Onesimus, the converted runaway slave whom Paul was returning to his master with a plea for forgiveness. Tychicus’s presence likely softened that delicate situation, showing us how even ordinary tasks carried out faithfully support the gospel’s advance.
What does this tell us about faithfulness? First, Paul saw Tychicus as family, not merely a courier or assistant. The most ordinary work, when done with love and devotion, builds deep relationships. Second, Tychicus served Jesus first, which made him trustworthy in every task. We learn that serving God through daily duties, no matter how small, is truly honoring Him.
It’s important to remember that the work Tychicus did was not glamorous. It went unseen by most, but it was vital. As we look around us today, our churches, communities, and families run on faithful people who do the “small” things—setting up chairs, folding bulletins, visiting shut-ins, preparing meals, and more. These roles aren’t lesser callings; they are the glue that holds everything together.
I often think about how a house is built. The nails and screws aren’t admired, but without them, the whole structure would fall apart. Tychicus was like those nails—holding things steady so the church could grow. And in our steady obedience—coming week after week, doing what needs done—we honor God and strengthen His people.
Our world today often values visibility and fame. We count followers, likes, and public acclaim. But God sees through that. He prizes faithfulness in the shadows. Tychicus was faithful without applause, trusted with vital missions, and loved as a brother in Christ.
So what about us? Maybe your daily tasks feel ordinary or unnoticed. Maybe you think your role isn’t important. But let me encourage you: every phone call you make to check on someone, every prayer whispered for a friend, every act of kindness—even the small ones—adds up in God’s kingdom. Your faithfulness today might be exactly what someone else needs to keep going in their faith tomorrow.
Thank you for joining me today. May you go forward encouraged that your faithful service in the ordinary is precious to God and powerful beyond measure.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 16: Faith That Crosses Cultures, Audio
Welcome, friends. It’s a joy to gather once more and explore God’s faithful work across generations and cultures. Today, we turn to the beautiful story of Ruth—a story that shows us how faith can cross every boundary and how God welcomes all who seek Him, no matter their background.
Ruth’s story unfolds during a difficult time in Israel’s history when divisions and cultural boundaries were sharp. She was a Moabite, a foreign woman from a people often hostile to Israel. Yet, in a remarkable display of faith and loyalty, Ruth chose to leave behind her homeland and gods to follow Naomi, her mother-in-law, and to embrace the God of Israel as her own. She said these famous words that have echoed through the centuries: “Where you go, I will go; where you stay, I will stay. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God”.
This was no small decision. Ruth was stepping into the unknown—leaving comfort and familiarity for a new country, a struggling family, and a faith she had only begun to understand. Her loyalty to Naomi was heroic. It meant trusting God’s providence and embracing hardship alongside her.
As the story continues, we see Ruth’s faithfulness rewarded. She gleans in the fields of Boaz, a relative of Naomi’s late husband. Boaz notices her hard work and integrity and extends extraordinary kindness beyond what the law required. This provision reflects how God cares for those who honor Him and walk in obedience.
Eventually, Ruth marries Boaz, and their son Obed becomes the grandfather of King David. Incredibly, Ruth, a foreigner, becomes part of God’s chosen family and the lineage that leads to Jesus Christ Himself. Her story is a powerful reminder that God’s love breaks through every barrier—cultural, national, and social—and weaves the lives of all who seek Him into His redemptive plan.
What draws us most to Ruth—her steadfast loyalty, her courage in the face of uncertainty, or her wholehearted faith—is a question for reflection. Perhaps it’s all of these combined. Her example challenges us not only to trust God but also to open our hearts and churches to those who are different, welcoming them as God has welcomed us.
In our world today, where divisions often make relationships difficult, Ruth’s story calls us to believe in God’s inclusive love. It challenges us to cross boundaries in kindness and faith, knowing that God’s family is open to all who seek Him.
Thank you for sharing this moment of study. May Ruth’s faith inspire you to live boldly, love deeply, and welcome others as part of God’s great family.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 17: A Bold Voice in a Silent Crowd, Audio
Welcome, dear friends. It’s wonderful to be together again as we discover fresh lessons from God’s Word. Today’s story is brief but powerful, and it carries an important reminder for all of us: God can use anyone, anywhere, with whatever they have to bring deliverance and hope.
We find Shamgar mentioned in just one verse, Judges 3:31. It says, “After Ehud came Shamgar son of Anath, who struck down six hundred Philistines with an ox goad. He too saved Israel.” That’s it. No long speeches or detailed history, just one extraordinary act of courage and faith.
But what an act it was! Shamgar didn’t have fancy weapons or a trained army. He likely was a farmer, or an ordinary man working the fields, armed with an ox goad—a tool used to prod oxen, long and sturdy but not designed for battle. And yet, with that simple farming tool, Shamgar defeated 600 Philistines and delivered his people.
Think about that for a moment. An ox goad was not a weapon crafted for war, but God used it to bring victory. Just like He used the slingshot of David and the staff of Moses, He used Shamgar’s everyday tool for extraordinary purposes.
This story encourages us deeply. It tells us that God isn’t waiting for perfect credentials or flawless resources before using us. He looks for hearts willing to act, to stand up when others remain silent. Maybe you feel ordinary or unequipped—remember Shamgar.
His courage inspired an entire nation and brought peace, even if only for a time. And though we don’t know all the details about him, God remembers and honors that bold faith. The prophetess Deborah later mentioned Shamgar in her song of victory, a sign that his act was significant in Israel’s history.
So what can we take from Shamgar’s story today? First, God sees when His people suffer under oppression and raises up deliverers—even in unexpected ways. Second, we don’t need to wait for "perfect" before stepping forward. Your “oxgoad” might be your voice, your kindness, your willingness to pray, or a skill you’ve forgotten you have. Third, courage truly matters. One faithful act can change everything.
When you see injustice or sorrow around you, don’t just lament. Ask God how He might want to use you—in your home, your community, your church—to bring light and hope. You might be His Shamgar for this season.
Thank you for joining today’s study. May you go forward encouraged that your faithful courage, even in small ways, can make an eternal difference.
Hidden Heroes: Quiet Lives, Lasting Impact
Session 18: The Legacy of the Forgotten, Audio
Welcome, dear friends, to this final session in our series. Today, we reflect on a deeply encouraging truth: God sees and honors the countless faithful servants whose names may be forgotten by history, yet whose faith shaped eternity.
Our Scriptures remind us that many critical moments in God’s story depended on people we know little about—sometimes only a verse or a few words. In Mark chapter 2, for example, we see four unnamed men carrying a paralyzed friend on a mat, who by their boldness lowered him through a roof so Jesus could heal him. Their faith opened the door to healing and transformation, even though history never recorded their names.
The book of Hebrews, chapter 11, calls to mind many heroes of faith—Gideon, David, Samuel, and others. But it also hints at dozens, even hundreds, of unnamed faithful men and women who endured hardship, persecution, and suffering, yet held firm in their trust of God’s promises. Though we don’t know their names, their legacy shines brightly in the history of salvation.
We live in a culture that prizes fame and recognition. We often think success rises with how many people know our names or follow our stories. But Scripture tells a different story—that faithfulness matters more than fame. The widow who gave two coins, the boy with his small lunch, the servant girl who pointed Naaman to God’s prophet—all of these quiet acts were vital parts of God’s unfolding plan.
It may surprise you to know that some of the most important servants in Scripture receive little more than a passing mention. The Ethiopian eunuch baptized by Philip likely sparked the church’s spread in Africa, yet we don’t even know his name. The jailer who received Paul’s message changed his family’s destiny, but he is simply “the jailer.” God measures importance by the heart, not by human recognition.
As you reflect on your own faith journey, ask yourself: if someone wrote your story, which unnamed person would you want remembered? Maybe it’s a parent who sacrificed faithfully, a teacher who stayed patient through lessons, or a neighbor who quietly checked in when you were down. Maybe it’s a church member who served without fanfare. These unnamed heroes often shape us more profoundly than we realize.
Your own acts of faithfulness, though sometimes unnoticed, may ripple far beyond what you see. Whether it’s a prayer offered in secret or a kind word given when no one’s watching, every piece fits into God’s eternal tapestry. God’s kingdom stands not only on great leaders but on countless steady servants—the foundation stones often invisible to the crowd but essential to the structure.
Charles Spurgeon once said, “A great many persons are able to become Sunday School teachers, far more than do become such. Why should not the graves of all our villages be as fragrant with the dust of departed Sunday School teachers as our cemeteries are with the flowers that bloom above them?” Mother Teresa reminded us, “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”
These words echo the heart of today’s study—that faithful service, no matter how small it seems, shapes generations. The women who supported Jesus’ ministry with their resources, the man who shared his lunch with Jesus, the unnamed disciples who first preached to Gentiles—all were part of God’s great plan.
So today, be encouraged. Your faithfulness matters. Your quiet acts of love, your faithful prayers, your patient service—God sees them all and values them deeply. You don’t need recognition or applause to be part of His kingdom work. You just need faithfulness.
Thank you so much for journeying through these studies with me. May you go forward in the peace that comes from knowing your faithful service is precious in God’s sight and lasting beyond all time.