Why does the Bible spend so much time listing the names and duties of temple gatekeepers? In 1 Chronicles 26, these behind-the-scenes figures take center stage—and it raises some interesting questions about the value of quiet, dependable work. This blog reflects on what it means to guard the threshold, both then and now.

1 Chronicles 25 describes a temple band like no other—complete with harps, cymbals, and a surprising dose of prophecy. What does it mean to prophesy through music, and how did ancient Israel view the connection between sound and the sacred? This post explores the blurry lines between ritual and creativity, structure and emotion.

What happens when a king counts his people and everything goes wrong? In 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles, David's census sparks divine anger and a devastating plague—with no clear explanation why. This post explores the confusion, contradictions, and quiet intensity of a story that refuses to be easily resolved.

Why does the story of David and Bathsheba vanish in 1 Chronicles 20 when it’s front and center in 2 Samuel? This blog explores how history sometimes gets a rewrite—and what that means for how we remember leaders, both ancient and modern. When the scandal disappears, what else might be missing?

A young king listens to bad advice, and what starts as a condolence visit spirals into war. In 2 Samuel 10 and 1 Chronicles 19, we watch how fear and suspicion—fueled by unnamed advisors—reshape history. This post explores the ripple effects of influence, and how the voices we trust can steer far more than just our thoughts.

In the middle of David’s military triumphs, there’s an unexpected pause—a quiet question about an old friend’s son. When David brings Mephibosheth to his table, it’s not about strategy or politics; it’s about memory, loyalty, and the kind of promises that outlast people. This blog explores how one moment of kindness can echo more deeply than a dozen battles.

David wanted to build a temple, but instead, he got a promise of a lasting dynasty—something he wouldn’t live to see. This passage got me thinking about how we define legacy: is it what we build, or what we set in motion? Maybe real legacy isn’t something we control, but something we learn to let go of.

Even the best-laid plans can crumble when key details are overlooked. In 1 Chronicles 13-15, David’s first attempt to move the Ark of the Covenant ends in disaster—but he doesn’t give up. This story offers a thoughtful look at how failure can lead to reflection, adjustment, and a second chance.

After years of running, waiting, and wondering, David finally becomes king over all Israel—but not without a long and winding journey. His story invites reflection on the uneasy balance between action and patience, and how leadership often depends on timing beyond our control. What if the waiting seasons in life are shaping us more than we realize?

What can a small tribe with a complicated past and Israel’s first king teach us about history? In 1 Chronicles 7-10, the tribe of Benjamin and the rise (and fall) of Saul take center stage, offering a glimpse into how stories of triumph and failure are preserved side by side. This reflection explores how the Chronicler gives space to both honor and honesty in recounting Israel’s lineage.

1 Chronicles 6 reads like a list of names and places, but beneath the surface lies a story about how people connect to the spaces they inhabit. The Levites, a tribe without a homeland, carried their purpose into scattered towns across Israel, shaping community life through their presence. This reflection explores how place and purpose intertwine, both in ancient times and today.

Reading through 1 Chronicles 3–5 felt a bit like flipping through the Bible’s version of a phonebook—just names, line after line. But even in these seemingly dry passages, there’s something to notice about memory, identity, and what gets preserved. Not every page is thrilling, but maybe that’s not the point.

Most of 1 Chronicles 1–2 reads like an endless list of names, but a few unexpected ones quietly shift the tone. Tamar, Keturah, and Achar don’t follow the usual pattern—and their inclusion hints at something deeper. What do these surprising names reveal about who gets remembered and why?