God’s Perfect Timing?

   

Words have meaning. This is the basis of all communication.

As a pastor, one of my callings is to communicate. That means I want to be thoughtful about the words I use, because words can either clarify or confuse. My goal is always to communicate clearly about God and what it means to follow Jesus.

That’s not always easy. People have different levels of understanding, and the level of precision changes depending on the context. I don’t use the same theological precision in a sermon or a blog post as I would in an academic paper or lecture. Preaching and writing devotionally aim for clarity, not footnotes.

Recently, I was reminded how important word choice is. I was with a group of pastors, and we were sharing sermons and series ideas. I shared my series on Nahum: The Justice and Comfort of God. The big idea of one sermon, drawn from Nahum 2, was:

God will not let injustice stand forever—He brings down the oppressor in His perfect time.

One of the pastors asked me about that phrase “in His perfect time.” It’s a fair question. Because when you are the one experiencing oppression, abuse, or violence, God’s delay doesn’t feel perfect. It feels like abandonment.

That question pushed me to wrestle with the language I chose to use. Is “perfect” really the right word to describe God’s timing?

The Tension of God’s Timing

I wrestled with this thought in the first sermon of the series. Nahum 1:7 declares:

“The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him.”

That’s a beautiful promise. But it’s also hard to believe when life isn’t good. When you are being oppressed. When hardships stack up. When there seems to be no end in sight to the violence and oppression that you are experiencing.

If you lived under the Assyrian Empire, a people known for their brutality, you probably weren’t saying, “God is good.” You were wondering, “Where is God?”

That’s the tension of faith. God is our refuge—not because He shields us from every evil, but because of His promises to rescue, restore, and provide. His covenant love means He is faithful to His people even when circumstances scream otherwise. Finding refuge in God is like finding a cave in a storm: the rain and the wind don’t stop, but you are sheltered because you know that the violence and abuse are not the final word. Yet, even as I type this I recognize how flimsy a promise is when you are in the midst of hardship and trouble.

At the same time, Nahum 1:3 reminds us:

“The LORD is slow to get angry, but His power is great,

and He never lets the guilty go unpunished.”

That slowness is good news when we are the ones in the wrong. But when we are the victims of evil, we want God to act quickly. This creates a tension: God’s patience feels like delay, even neglect.

So when I say, “God brings down the oppressor in His perfect time,” I don’t mean it’s easy or comfortable or aligned with our schedules. I want to communicate the reality that: God’s timing is purposeful, trustworthy, and at just the right time. 

In the back of my mind, when I wrote the sermon, I had Romans 5:6, “For while we were still helpless, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly” (CSB), in mind. So, it was this sentiment that I wanted to communicate when I chose to use the word “perfect.”

Why “Perfect” Still Fits

I’m open to rethinking words if they don’t serve well. But here’s why I think perfect is still the right word for God’s timing.

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1. Perfect reflects God’s character.

God is holy, just, and wise. Everything He does flows from His perfect nature—including when He chooses to act.

What looks to us like slowness, delay, or silence is not a mistake on God’s part. He knows more than we do. He sees the end from the beginning. He acts with perfect knowledge and wisdom.

The psalmist affirms this:

“As for God, His way is perfect” (2 Sam. 22:31; Ps. 18:30).

2. Perfect captures God’s patience and justice.

Nahum reminds us that God did not act on a whim. He gave Assyria time to repent. The prophet Jonah preached to Nineveh a century earlier, and they did repent—for a while. But their repentance did not last, and they returned to violence, idolatry, and deceit.

God’s judgment on Nineveh was not impulsive. It was deliberate. From our perspective, it may have felt too late. From God’s perspective, it was the right moment—when His justice would be unmistakable, and when His people would be delivered.

Peter says it this way:

“The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. Instead, He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” (2 Pet. 3:9)

God’s delay is not neglect—it’s mercy. But when the time comes, justice is certain.

3. Perfect offers comfort to believers.

Those who suffer under oppression need to know that God has not forgotten them. His timing may not align with ours, but He is never late.

Paul reminds us that God acted in history “at just the right time”:

“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.” (Rom. 5:6)

God’s timing in salvation is the ultimate model of perfection. Christ came at the moment chosen by God—neither too soon nor too late. If His timing was perfect in bringing salvation, we can trust His timing in bringing justice.

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Living with the Tension

None of this makes suffering easy. The Psalms of Lament are filled with cries of “How long, O Lord?” They give voice to the frustration of waiting. They remind us that God welcomes our questions and even our protests.

And yet, many of those same psalms end in trust:

“But I trust in your unfailing love;

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing the LORD’s praise,

for he has been good to me.” (Ps. 13:5–6)

The laments teach us how to hold tension. We can cry out honestly, even desperately, while also affirming that God’s love is unfailing and His ways are good.

That’s why I still believe perfect is the right word. Not because God’s timing feels perfect to us, but because it flows from His perfect character and leads to His perfect purposes.

Trusting God’s Perfect Will

Nahum’s message is heavy: the downfall of Nineveh, a city of violence and deceit. But woven through the judgment is hope: God sees, God cares, and God acts. His justice is never absent, even when it feels delayed.

For us, the cross of Jesus is the ultimate picture of both judgment and mercy. At the cross, God’s justice fell on sin, and His mercy was extended to sinners. The timing of that event was not random—it was perfect.

If God’s timing was perfect at the cross, then I have to believe that it was perfect when God finally brought judgement to Nineveh.

So when I say, “God brings down the oppressor in His perfect time,” I am not denying the pain of waiting. I am affirming the deeper truth: that God is sovereign, wise, and good. His timing may not feel perfect, but it cannot be improved upon.

Final Thought

Laurie Braaten, in his commentary on Nahum (New Beacon Commentary: Nahum-Malachi) wrote:

“God’s people are called to live as though God’s justice prevails now, and trust that if not now, then in the final judgment the oppressors will receive their deserved punishment and the people of God will be vindicated.”

That’s the call for us: to live as though God’s justice is already here, even as we wait for its fullness.

Words matter. And I still believe perfect is the right word to describe God’s timing, because God’s will and God’s timing flow from His perfect love, His perfect wisdom, and His perfect justice.

So let’s keep trusting, even in the waiting.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Final Verdict and Future Hope

When Justice Applies to Everyone

In April 2013, a Michigan judge handed down one of the most unusual rulings of his career—against himself. Judge Raymond Voet had a posted policy in his courtroom: if a phone went off during proceedings, its owner would be fined $25.

During a prosecutor’s closing argument, Voet’s own smartphone started talking—loudly—asking for voice commands. Embarrassed, the judge silenced it as quickly as he could. But at the next recess, he fined himself $25. “Judges are human,” he said. “We’re not above the rules.”

That’s what real justice looks like—applied fairly, without favoritism, even to the one in charge.

Nahum 3 shows us the same truth about God. No matter how powerful Nineveh was, no matter how untouchable Assyria thought itself to be, God did not overlook their evil. His justice is perfect, consistent, and unavoidable.

When Evil Runs Its Course

Nahum describes Nineveh as a “city of blood,” built on violence, lies, and plunder. Ancient accounts tell of unspeakable cruelty—captives tortured, treaties betrayed, wealth stolen. Assyria’s power grew through deceit and terror, not justice and peace.

God’s verdict? Enough.

Nineveh would be exposed for what it truly was. Once feared, it would now be shamed. The empire that humiliated others would be humiliated itself.

And God reminds Nineveh of history: Thebes, a mighty Egyptian city Assyria once conquered, had seemed invincible too. But it fell. And so would Nineveh. What they had done to others would now return upon their own heads.

The Collapse of False Power

Nahum uses vivid images: 

Nineveh like ripe figs, falling at the slightest shake.
Its soldiers like locusts, swarming in greed but disappearing when danger comes.
Its leaders like sleeping shepherds, abandoning the flock.

The message is clear: the empire’s wealth, armies, and defenses would not save it. The wound would be fatal. And while Assyria’s victims had once wept in terror, now they would rejoice at its downfall.


Where We Fit In

What do we do with a text this heavy?

First, it reminds us that God deals with His enemies in two ways. In Jonah’s day, Nineveh repented—and God relented. But when repentance faded, judgment came. The same is true for us: we must continually turn our hearts back to God, pledging our allegiance to Jesus, or else we risk sharing Nineveh’s fate.

Second, Nahum points us to Christ. On the cross, Jesus absorbed the violence, humiliation, and exposure that sin produces. The taunts, the filth hurled at Him, the shame of being stripped bare—it’s the fate Nineveh faced, and the fate humanity deserves. But Jesus bore it in our place. He took on our judgment so that we could receive God’s mercy.

Without Him, Nineveh’s fate becomes our fate. With Him, we are delivered.


The Final Verdict and Future Hope

Nahum 3 is more than history—it’s a preview of God’s ultimate justice.

For the oppressed: comfort—God will set things right.
For the oppressor: warning—repent before judgment comes.
For God’s people: hope—the downfall of evil is certain, and the reign of God is forever.

As Laurie Braaten writes, “God’s people are called to live as though God’s justice prevails now, and trust that if not now, then in the final judgement the oppressors will receive their deserved punishment and the people of God will be vindicated.”

We live in that tension. We long for God’s justice now, but we hope in His final verdict. And as we wait, we worship, because in Jesus the victory has already been secured.


A Challenge for the Week

Take time this week to worship God for the hope we have in Christ. Thank Him that His justice is real, His timing is perfect, and His mercy is available now.

When life feels unfair, chaotic, or overwhelming, remember: God’s justice brings down the oppressor and delivers His people. Our future is secure in Jesus.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Destruction of Nineveh

Where There Is No Hope for the Future…

Some years ago, a small town was chosen as the site for a new hydroelectric plant. The plan was to build a dam across the river, which meant the whole town would be submerged underwater. The announcement came months in advance, giving residents time to get their affairs in order and relocate.

But something strange happened. House repairs stopped. Community projects ceased. Even lawn care came to a halt. Before anyone had left, the place looked abandoned.

When someone asked a resident why everything had fallen into neglect, he answered, “Where there is no hope for the future, there is no power in the present.”

That’s a life lesson worth remembering. Hope for tomorrow produces strength for today. And the opposite is also true—when you believe there’s no hope, you stop living with purpose.

Nahum’s prophecy worked in the opposite direction. His announcement of Nineveh’s destruction gave Judah hope. Under Assyrian oppression, they could remember: God sees, God cares, and God will rescue. They could celebrate and worship again because their future was secure in God’s hands.

God’s Justice on the Move (Nahum 2:1–2)

Nahum opens with a warning to Nineveh: the attacker is coming. For decades, Assyria had been the aggressor, conquering nations with ruthless cruelty. Now the tables were turning. God Himself was against them.

It’s important to remember: God is not passive toward injustice. He gives time for repentance, but His patience is not indifference. When the time comes, He raises up instruments of His justice to set things right.

The Fall of the Mighty (Nahum 2:3–7)

Nahum paints a vivid picture—shields dyed red, soldiers in crimson, chariots racing through the streets, confusion on every side. Nineveh’s power and military pride were no match for God’s judgment.

The queen herself would be led away into exile, and the people who once repented at Jonah’s preaching now moaned in hopeless defeat. Pride and power are fleeting. No empire, no church, no individual is beyond God’s humbling hand.

Emptiness After Exploitation (Nahum 2:8–10)

Nineveh, once overflowing with wealth and people, would become a ghost town. The Assyrians had plundered countless nations, but now their own treasures would be carried off.

This is the way of the world’s kingdoms—wealth gained through oppression and greed never leads to lasting rest. In the end, it leaves only ruin.

The Lion Becomes Prey (Nahum 2:11–13)

Assyria liked to think of itself as a lion—powerful, fearless, able to devour whatever it pleased. But now, the lion was hunted. God’s chilling words come at the end of the chapter: “Behold, I am against you.”

Those are the most terrifying words a human or a nation can hear. The Babylonians may have been the ones to conquer Nineveh, but the victory came from the Lord’s hand.

From Nahum to Now

James 5:1–8 reminds us that God still opposes those who exploit and dehumanize others. Whether it’s a nation, a corporation, or an individual, when people use their power to harm rather than to help, they set themselves up against God—and He will act.

For God’s people, the message is one of patience and hope. Like Judah under Assyrian rule, like the early church under Roman persecution, we are called to live courageously as we wait for the day Jesus returns to make all things right.

Living in the Meantime

Nineveh’s downfall isn’t just history—it’s a warning. Oppose God’s ways, and eventually, God Himself will oppose you. But it’s also a promise for the oppressed: evil will not have the final word.

So we keep proclaiming His Kingdom, using what we have to restore rather than exploit, and standing firm in faith. Because one day, the Lion of Judah will return, and every oppressor will fall before Him.

Challenge for the Week: Take time to worship. Thank God for the hope we have in Jesus. It’s this hope that keeps us steady when the world seems to be unraveling.

Final Thought: Nahum 2 reminds us that the most important question in life is not Who is against me? but Is God for me? Nineveh’s wealth and power couldn’t protect it when God said, “I am against you.” But in Christ, we can hear the opposite: “I am for you.”The difference comes down to where we stand with Him. The only safe place to be… is on God’s side.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Downfall of the Oppressor

Text: Nahum 1:9–15

What kind of God steps into the darkness for the sake of His people?

Nine months after SEAL Team Six took out Osama bin Laden, they carried out another extraordinary mission. Jessica Buchanan, an American aid worker, had been kidnapped by Somali pirates. In the dead of night, two dozen SEALs parachuted into southern Somalia, killed nine armed captors, and rescued her—all without a single American casualty.

What happened next is even more powerful. Jessica later shared that after her rescue, the SEALs had her lie down, then formed a human shield by lying on top of her. Why? Because there was still the threat of more armed terrorists in the area. These men had already risked their lives to save her, and now they were laying down over her to protect her until the helicopters came.

To the world, that moment was extraordinary. But for the SEALs, it was simply what they do—because it’s who they are.

That’s what Nahum wants us to see about God. In Nahum 1, Judah was surrounded by a brutal empire. Assyria seemed unstoppable. Their cruelty was legendary. And yet, God declared that the oppressor would fall, the yoke would be broken, and His people would be free again.

Why? Because it’s what He does—because it’s who He is.

Nahum gives us a vision of a God who is not distant or indifferent, but one who rescues, redeems, and restores. And in this short but powerful passage, we witness both judgment on evil and hope for God’s people.

The Futility of Evil Schemes (Nahum 1:9–10)

“Why are you scheming against the Lord?” Nahum asks. Assyria had set itself against God’s people—and in doing so, against God Himself. But their power, their alliances, their strategies—none of it could stand. Their downfall was inevitable.

Verse 10 paints the image clearly, even if it’s difficult to translate. They’ll be tangled in thorns, stumbling like drunkards, burned up like dry stubble. It’s vivid, poetic language for a simple truth: no matter how powerful evil appears, it cannot outlast the justice of God.

We may not always understand the timing, but the promise is firm: the wicked will not win. This is the hope we hold onto as we await the return of King Jesus—who will bring justice and restore all things.

The Power and Promise of God’s Justice (Nahum 1:11–14)

Verse 11 introduces the one behind Assyria’s evil schemes. Most commentators identify this as a wicked king—an advisor leading the empire into oppression and violence. But in verse 12, God Himself speaks: “This is what the Lord says…”

This is the only time in Nahum we hear that familiar prophetic refrain. And what follows is God’s declaration: Assyria may be great in number and strength, but they will be cut down. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Here’s the hard part: God says He used Assyria to discipline Judah. That’s difficult to process, but it’s consistent with covenant language throughout the Old Testament. God allowed hardship—not because He delighted in suffering, but because He was shaping and correcting His people. Yet even that had a limit. God promises: “I will afflict you no more.” (v. 12)

God then issues a military-style command. The word “commanded” in verse 14 carries the weight of a king’s decree. The dynasty will be ended. Their gods will be shattered. Their grave is ready. This isn’t symbolic—it’s exactly what happened. The Assyrian empire fell, never to rise again.

The Celebration of the Redeemed (Nahum 1:15)

The tone changes in the final verse. There, on the mountains, is a messenger bringing good news: peace has come!

This echoes Isaiah 52:7, which Paul quotes in Romans 10:15: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” In Nahum’s context, it’s the good news of Assyria’s defeat and Judah’s redemption.

Even though the final collapse hadn’t yet occurred, the announcement of it was cause for celebration. Judah was told to resume its festivals, to keep the vows made in desperate prayer. Deliverance had come.

This peace wasn’t just the end of violence—it was the restoration of wholeness. It was shalom: the return of what sin and oppression had fractured. That’s the peace God promises His people.

So live like it’s already here.

What This Means for Us

Nahum isn’t just about ancient Assyria—it’s about God’s judgment on all evil. His people have found comfort in this book across centuries, from Babylon to Rome. And we find comfort in it today.

We still live in a world where injustice, violence, and oppression seem to reign. Sometimes it even feels like God is silent or distant. But Nahum reminds us: God sees, God cares, and God will act.

Yes, some hardships are the result of our own disobedience. But many come simply from living in a broken world. Either way, they are not outside of God’s sovereignty. Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” in 2 Corinthians 12 wasn’t removed. But God used it to shape his faith and remind him that God’s power is made perfect in weakness.

So trust God in every circumstance. Whether in hardship or joy, loss or triumph, trust that God is at work—for your good and for His glory.

And celebrate the Gospel! Jesus has already won the decisive battle. The cross and the resurrection were our D-Day. Now we live in that in-between time—awaiting the full arrival of VE-Day, when Christ returns, evil is fully destroyed, and peace reigns.

In the meantime, we worship. We proclaim. We live in hope.

Final Thought

We worship a God who does not ignore evil. He sees every injustice, hears every cry, and promises that one day He will make all things right.

The downfall of the oppressor is not just a historical event—it’s a gospel pattern. God breaks the chains of the enemy, rescues His people, and invites them into peace.

So when the weight of the world feels heavy, when evil seems to have the last word, remember Nahum’s message: The victory belongs to God. Evil will fall. Peace will come.

And until that day, we live by faith, we celebrate the good news, and we rest in the refuge of our Rescuer.

Because rescue isn’t just what He does—it’s who He is.