Faithful God, Flawed King

II Kings 18:1–5 introduces Hezekiah with breathtaking praise: “He did what was right in the eyes of the LORD… He trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel, so that there was none like him among all the kings of Judah after him, nor among those who were before him.” That is not faint commendation. Scripture places Hezekiah in a category all his own.

And for good reason. Even Judah’s “good” kings usually hedged their obedience. They tolerated the high places. They allowed idols to linger. They compromised just enough to keep the peace. But not Hezekiah. He tore the high places down. He cut down the Asherah poles. He smashed the sacred pillars. He even destroyed the bronze serpent Moses had made in the wilderness—an object once used by God, now being worshiped as a god itself. Nothing was spared if it competed with the LORD.

Because Hezekiah trusted God and refused to depart from Him, Scripture says the LORD prospered him wherever he went. From a distance, it looks like a flawless story: faithful king, divine favor, uninterrupted success. The greatest king Judah ever had…RIGHT?

Not even close.

When you read carefully, Hezekiah’s reign is marked by repeated misunderstandings of God’s blessings and dangerous miscalculations about the world around him. Politically, his decisions are often disastrous. Nationally, his leadership brings the kingdom to the brink of collapse. From Judah’s perspective, his reign is deeply disappointing.

And yet—this is why Hezekiah matters—the one thing he never lets go of is God.

That is why he is my guy.

After experiencing God’s blessing again and again, Hezekiah makes a fatal assumption: if God has blessed me so far, He will bless whatever I decide to do next. So without seeking the LORD, Hezekiah rebels against Assyria—the most powerful empire on earth—convinced that divine favor guarantees divine protection.

It does not.

God does not abandon Hezekiah, but neither does He shield him from the consequences of foolish choices. When Sennacherib, king of Assyria, marches against Judah, Hezekiah panics. He sends word: “I have done wrong; withdraw from me. Whatever you impose on me I will bear.” He empties the royal treasury. He strips gold from the doors of the temple itself. He gives it all away.

And it still isn’t enough.

Sennacherib presses forward, conquering Judah’s fortified cities and publicly mocking Hezekiah, Jerusalem, and their God. Jerusalem is next. Deliverance is impossible. Resistance is pointless.

Desperate, Hezekiah turns to the prophet Isaiah and asks God to intervene. God promises deliverance—but when another letter from Sennacherib arrives, dripping with arrogance and blasphemy, Hezekiah finally does the one thing he should have done all along.

He takes the letter into the house of the LORD. He spreads it out before God. And he prays—not for his reputation, not for his throne, but for God’s glory. He appeals to who God is.

And God responds.

In a single night, the Assyrian army is destroyed. Sennacherib is removed from power. Judah is saved—not because Hezekiah was wise, but because God was faithful.

You would think this would be the turning point. Surely now Hezekiah has learned. Surely now he will lead with wisdom.

But more foolish decisions are still ahead.

And this is the reason I love Hezekiah’s story: despite his repeated failures, despite his shortsightedness, despite his fear-driven choices, God never leaves him. God never withdraws His faithfulness. God never gives up on His deeply flawed, sincerely devoted child.

God knew exactly who Hezekiah was. He knew he would stumble. He knew he would misjudge. He knew he would fail. And none of it diminished God’s commitment to him.

Hallelujah.

That is the God I want. That is the God I need. A God who remains faithful—not because I always choose well, but because He is always faithful, even when I don’t chose well.