The recent Snowpocalypse has been relatively uneventful—and for that, I am thankful. I hope it stays that way. Snow days have a funny way of slowing life down just enough to expose how restless we really are. After everyone at our house began to feel a bit stir-crazy, I decided to take some time for writing. I headed down to the basement, cracked open a Diet Mountain Dew, scooped out a few bowls of ice cream, and opened my Bible to the Old Testament book of Ezra.

Ezra isn’t usually the first book people turn to when they’re looking for encouragement. It doesn’t have the emotional highs of the Psalms or the sweeping drama of Exodus. But as I read through its ten chapters, I was reminded once again that all Scripture is given for our learning. As the Apostle Paul reminds us, “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (Romans 15:4).

Ezra gave me hope this afternoon. Not the cheap, surface-level kind, but the deep, sturdy hope that comes from seeing God at work over long stretches of time, through flawed people, against real opposition, and in the midst of genuine repentance. What follows are three observations from Ezra that bring practical application to Christian living—observations I hope will encourage you to open this book for yourself and make your own discoveries.

Observation 1 – God’s Providence Shines in Ezra

Providence is God’s care for His creation, but more specifically, His special care for His people. It includes those moments—often behind the scenes—when things look bleak by outward appearance, yet God is quietly arranging events according to His redemptive purposes.

Right out of the gate, Ezra gives us a striking example. In Ezra 1:2, Cyrus, king of Persia, issues a decree: “The Lord, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and He has charged me to build Him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah.” Let that sink in for a moment. Cyrus is a pagan king, ruler of the dominant world empire, and yet he openly attributes his authority to the God of heaven—the God of Israel—and claims that this God has commissioned him.

This is providence on full display. God raises up Cyrus, turns his heart, and directs his authority toward the restoration of God’s people. Not only does Cyrus permit the Jews to return to Jerusalem, but he actively encourages them to rebuild the temple.

And it doesn’t stop there. In Ezra 1:7, we’re told that Cyrus brings out the vessels of the house of the Lord that Nebuchadnezzar had carried away from Jerusalem 7 decades earlier and placed in the house of his gods. These weren’t symbolic items; they were real treasures—sacred objects stolen from the temple and assumed to be lost forever. Yet here they are, carefully inventoried and returned.

That’s the kind of thing God does. For seventy years, God’s people lived in exile. Generations were born and died far from the land God had promised. Yet God not only brings them back—He brings them back with what they lost. Most of the people returning had never seen these treasures before. This would make a fantastic episode of Antiques Roadshow.

Ezra continues to show us God’s providence in deeply personal ways. In chapter 3, verses 12–13, we witness a moment of emotionally mixed worship. As the foundation of the new temple is laid, some people shout for joy while others weep loudly. The ones who weep are the older men—those who had seen the original temple before its destruction.

Think about that. If they had been in Babylon for seventy years, then they must have been very young when they last saw the temple—or incredibly old now. Either way, they carried decades of loss, memory, regret, and longing. Standing there as the foundation was laid, they weren’t just seeing a building project; they were seeing the faithfulness of God stretched across a lifetime.

This, too, is providence. God not only restores His people objectively; He also leaves tokens of His love—personal reminders that He has not forgotten them. Ezra is filled with these moments. God’s care is not abstract or mechanical; it is personal, patient, and purposeful.

Observation 2 – God’s Good in the Midst of Enemies

One of the most practical features of Ezra is that it refuses to pretend obedience is easy. Almost as soon as the rebuilding begins, opposition arises. In chapter 4, adversaries approach the Israelites with what appears to be friendly intent: “Let us build with you” (Ezra 4:2). But their motives are corrupt. When their offer is rejected, they pivot quickly—from cooperation to sabotage.

They discourage the workers. They bribe officials. They send letters filled with half-truths and outright lies to Persian authorities. It’s a smear campaign designed to halt the work—and for a time, it succeeds.

This is an important lesson for anyone who follows God: the presence of God’s leading does not eliminate opposition. In fact, it often invites it. Faithfulness does not mean smooth sailing.

What’s remarkable is how God works through this resistance. God’s people respond wisely. They appeal to history. They ask the Persian officials to search the records. And sure enough, in chapter 6, a scroll is found containing Cyrus’s original decree.

The result is almost shocking. The Persian leadership not only reaffirms the decree but adds a severe warning: anyone who interferes with the rebuilding will have a beam pulled from his house and be impaled on it—and his house turned into a dunghill. BTW, in your own life, watch out for the dunghill people. Apparently, the Persians didn’t take kindly to obstructionists. But notice something important: God doesn’t fix the problem instantly. Letters are exchanged. Time passes. Uncertainty lingers. Providence unfolds slowly. And during that time, faith is stretched.

Someone reading this right now is probably living in Ezra 4 or 5. You’re doing what you believe God has called you to do, and yet resistance keeps showing up. Ezra reminds us not to be surprised. As Peter says, “Do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you (1 Peter 4:12).”

A friend and I recently talked about how seeds grow. We all prefer sunlight, but some growth requires darkness. There are processes that happen underground—unseen, uncomfortable, necessary. The same is true spiritually. Some growth happens in the night.

God is working even when it feels slow. His providence shines, but sometimes it takes a minute.

Observation 3 – God’s People Repent and Represent

The final chapters of Ezra confront us with a sobering reality: restored people can still drift. In chapter 9, Ezra learns that many of the leaders have intermarried with surrounding nations, compromising their faith and identity. God’s people were blending in instead of being faithful.

Ezra’s response is deeply instructive. He mourns. He confesses. He recounts God’s mercy and says something profoundly humbling: “God has punished us less than our iniquities deserved” (Ezra 9:13). That statement alone could fuel a lifetime of reflection.

In chapter 10, the people gather. Accountability is established. Repentance is in order. And remarkably, the majority respond. They confess. They turn away from sin. They choose faith and obedience over convenience.

Repentance isn’t a popular doctrine. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s also freeing. God does not offer false encouragement or cheap grace. He offers real restoration through real repentance.

Ezra shows us that God’s people don’t just repent—they represent. They live differently because they belong to God. And that difference becomes a testimony to God’s faithfulness.

If Ezra teaches us anything, it’s this: God is at work—through providence, through opposition, and through repentance—to accomplish His redemptive purposes. And that is good news worth sitting with, even on the snowiest of days. Many of us Christians can lose sight of redemption in the Old Testament, but Ezra is another signpost pointing to ultimate return and future restoration in Jesus Christ (John 3:16).