Reading through Daniel (1–2) this morning, I can’t help but be reminded of the reality of my (our) humanity. Oh, how I wish I could say I was like Daniel—faithful in captivity, righteous in the midst of cultural darkness, courageous in uncertainty. How I wish God’s Word affirmed my greatness…
But truthfully, it’s Nebuchadnezzar who humbly reveals the true state of my heart: sleepless nights, anxious thoughts, endless searching for something to ease my frantic distress. I reach and demand comfort to calm my fear of the future. And while I may not call on magicians, enchanters, sorcerers, or astrologers, I do call on comfort itself—therapists, food, supplements, Google, ChatGPT, relationships, grumbling, Instagram—all to explain away my anxiousness and soothe my fear of the impossible or the unknown.
Much like Nebuchadnezzar, who worried about the meaning of his future, I worry about the future of my kids. I often say how impossible one of my children feels to parent, and I find myself distressed by what the future may hold. All the big things—safety, health, financial security—keep me awake through the night. I live in that “when’s the other shoe going to drop?” sort of place.
In Daniel 2, the king’s dream brought him sleeplessness, desperation, and anxiety, which led him to place impossible demands on empty sources of knowledge and limited human beings. But Daniel didn’t reach for empty measures. He faithfully turned to the Sovereign God—whose name stands forever, to whom wisdom and might belong, the One who knows what is in darkness and in whom light dwells. He asked his household to pray, to seek mercy, and then walked in full trust and faith, assured that the faithful and humble God would provide all that was needed. The impossible decree of death placed on Daniel, his household, and the failed wise men was overcome through God’s mercy and power by the means of prayer.
By God’s power, Daniel met the needs of Nebuchadnezzar, but he did not glorify himself. He worshiped and glorified the one true God, declaring that it is from Him alone that wisdom flows. He is the only one who reveals mysteries, grants understanding and knowledge, and makes known what is true and certain.
It is not the wise men (or in our day: ChatGPT, Google, therapists, influencers, self-help books, podcasts) who can overcome sleepless nights and anxious hearts. What Nebuchadnezzar does next is where I find myself right now:
He fell upon his face and confessed, “Truly, your God is God of gods and Lord of kings, and a revealer of mysteries.”
Here is where I feel humbled by the simple truth that through prayer and God’s mercy, my places of impossible can be overcome and made possible not by earthly means or sources of knowledge, but only from the one in whom all wisdom is held.
My Prayer
Lord, oh how I am much like the ancient Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar—anxious, desperate to know, fearful to hold power yet fearful to lose it. Add control in there, too. But Lord, through Your design and Your Word, You use Daniel—and ultimately Jesus—to humble my heart. You teach me to instinctively reach for prayer, because trust and faith in what is unseen is greater than the things that can be seen.
Daniel 2
