Pt. 4-””Left To Yourself: God’s Toughest Assignment”
Author’s note: Conclusion of a four-part series, this reflection explores prayer, discernment, and the responsibility of both leaders and those who guide them.
This week was cringe worthy as I listened to our nation’s leader openly admit, “I know more than anyone—my ego needed to win.”
Not because ego is unfamiliar to power, but because there was no humility, no empathy for those affected, no evidence of emotional capacity beyond self.
What unsettled me most was not the confession—it was the absence of remorse.
Scripture warns us about this condition. In Romans 1, Paul describes what happens when truth is persistently rejected: God “gives them over” to a reprobate mind. Not ignorance, but refusal. Not a moment of pride, but a settled pattern where conscience grows quiet, empathy erodes, and natural affection is dulled. The elders used to say plainly: it’s a terrible thing to be turned over to yourself.
I often wonder whether those in this condition even sleep at night. In many ways, they do—because conscience no longer disturbs them. Emotions still flare, but only when ego, image, or advantage is threatened. Scripture calls this being “past feeling”—emotionally reactive, yet morally numb.
So the question many of us are asking—quietly, prayerfully—is this:
How did faith leaders not discern this?
And here is where my struggle sharpens. I find myself more troubled by pastoral silence than political failure. Political leaders answer to systems, voters, and history. Faith leaders answer to God and to the consciences they help shape. When discernment is muted in the pulpit, compromise is baptized as wisdom, and silence is mistaken for grace.
My practice has always been to pray for our presidential leaders and their cabinets. Scripture instructs us to do so, and I have taken that calling seriously.
My quandary now is this: how do we pray for a leader who shows reprobate traits? Do we pray for blessing, restraint, repentance—or interruption?
Scripture gives us three sobering models:
Pharaoh shows us power that repeatedly rejects truth until God confirms what was chosen. Moses’ prayers eventually shifted—not toward Pharaoh’s comfort, but toward God’s will prevailing when persuasion no longer reached.
Saul shows us an anointed leader who retained position long after obedience faded. Samuel mourned and prayed until God finally said, “How long will you grieve?”—a reminder that prayer must sometimes release attachment to outcomes and realign with where God is moving.
Nebuchadnezzar offers a different ending. He was proud, self-congratulating, and convinced his success proved his greatness—until God interrupted him. His power was stripped, his mind humbled, and when his sanity returned, so did his praise. Nebuchadnezzar teaches us that interruption can be mercy, and humbling can be restorative.
Together, they teach us this:
Sometimes prayer shifts—from change the heart, to limit the damage; from restore the throne, to restrain the harm; from success, to mercy. That shift is not faithlessness. It is discernment.
A Prayer for Leaders
So my prayer—for those in office and for those who shepherd God’s people—is not for unchecked blessing, but for merciful interruption. That God would surround leaders with voices of sound wisdom, not flattery, and grant them ears willing to hear. And if pride has grown loud and conscience quiet, may God do what He did for Nebuchadnezzar: interrupt long enough for understanding to return, humility to take root, and truth to be spoken again.
Mama-Wisdom Reflection
I once heard an older woman full of faith say, “God will warn you, then whisper, then wait—and if you still won’t listen, He’ll let you have your way.” They taught us that the most dangerous place to be isn’t under God’s correction, but outside of it. And they’d sigh and say, “Baby, it’s a terrible thing… to be turned over to yourself.”
Sometimes the most loving thing God can do for a nation is interrupt its leaders before pride hardens into silence.
