Unlikely Heroes in the Bible

When we dive into the Bible, we often find ourselves gravitating toward the well-known figures—Moses, David, Esther, Paul—names we’ve heard in countless sermons and lessons. These figures stand as pillars of faith, courage, and leadership. But the richness of God’s Word is that His plan includes people we might never expect to be at the center of it all. These "unexpected heroes" teach us something profound: God doesn’t always use the most obvious or traditional choices. He often chooses people who are overlooked, out of the ordinary, or seemingly unqualified. These individuals may not have been the ones anyone would have chosen to carry out His plans, yet in their stories, we see God’s fingerprints all over them.

In doing so, God shows us that His ways are not our ways. We might look at the world and see power, wealth, and influence as the things that make someone great, but God sees the heart. He uses the humble, the small, and the seemingly insignificant to accomplish mighty things. The unexpected heroes of Scripture remind us that God’s work isn’t about what we bring to the table, but about how He uses what we offer, no matter how little it may seem. These stories aren't just about the people involved—they’re a testament to God's ability to work through anyone who is willing, no matter how unusual or overlooked they may appear.

Take Ehud, for example. At first glance, you wouldn’t typically look at him and think, “This is the man who will save Israel.” Ehud wasn’t the kind of leader most people would expect. He was left-handed in a time and place where being left-handed was seen as unusual, even a disadvantage. In fact, to the people of his time, it might have seemed like a flaw—something that would limit him or hold him back. He wasn’t a towering warrior or a natural-born leader in the traditional sense. Yet, in God's plan, he became exactly what Israel needed.

The people of Israel were under the oppression of the Moabites, and they cried out to God for help. The oppression was severe, and the Israelites suffered greatly. "The Israelites cried out to the Lord, and He raised up for them a deliverer, Ehud son of Gera, a left-handed man of the Benjamite clan" (Judges 3:15). This was a time of deep despair, and Israel needed a deliverer. The task ahead seemed impossible, and yet God raised up Ehud, someone who was nearly overlooked by everyone around him. The oppression they faced was a reminder of Israel’s cycle of sin and rebellion, where they repeatedly turned away from God and suffered the consequences.

It’s striking that even when God called him, Ehud didn’t seem like the obvious choice. He wasn’t a great military leader or a heroic figure of strength. But in a brilliant display of divine strategy, it was Ehud’s left-handedness that became his greatest strength. At that time, being left-handed was uncommon and, in many ways, impractical in a society designed for right-handed people. However, God often works through what the world sees as weak or unimportant, turning it into something powerful for His purposes. As it’s written, "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength" (1 Corinthians 1:25). Ehud’s left-handedness became a tool in God’s hands, a way to accomplish His will.

He used it to his advantage—while others would have expected a right-handed man to attack, Ehud, with his unique trait, concealed a weapon in a way no one anticipated. This act of cleverness wasn’t just a product of his skill—it was part of God’s plan. “Ehud made a double-edged sword about a foot and a half long, which he strapped to his right thigh under his clothing” (Judges 3:16). When the time came, Ehud sneaked into the palace of the Moabite king, Eglon, a cruel and oppressive ruler. Ehud’s presence didn’t draw suspicion, and in a moment of incredible courage, he confronted King Eglon.

The scene that follows is as surprising as it is divine: “Ehud approached him while he was sitting alone in the upper room of his palace and said, 'I have a message from God for you.' As the king rose from his seat, Ehud reached with his left hand, drew the sword from his right thigh, and plunged it into the king's belly" (Judges 3:20-21). It was a bold and unexpected act, one that defied all assumptions of how a leader should act and what a hero should look like. God used a man considered “different” to carry out His plan in a way that no one could have imagined. The very trait that seemed like a weakness to many became the tool God used to bring about Israel’s victory.

The Moabites, now leaderless, were thrown into confusion, and Ehud led Israel to victory. The Israelites struck down their enemies, and the land had peace for eighty years (Judges 3:30). Ehud’s story is a powerful reminder that God doesn’t care about our outward appearances, our natural talents, or what others expect of us. He doesn’t need us to be the strongest or the most capable—He only needs us to be willing and available.

As the Lord says in 1 Samuel 16:7, “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” God sees what others might overlook, and He has a way of using even the most unconventional qualities to accomplish His will. We often think that God works through the obvious choices, through those who are well-equipped, experienced, or powerful. But sometimes, He uses those who are least expected to do the extraordinary, to turn weakness into strength, and to accomplish His purpose in a way that shows His power, not ours.

The story of Ehud is a testament to God’s sovereignty, His ability to use ordinary people for extraordinary purposes, and His grace in using what might seem like flaws to bring about His greater good. It reminds us that God can redeem anything—even what we consider weaknesses—to accomplish His will and bring His glory to the world. The Lord delights in showing His strength through our weaknesses, demonstrating that when we are weak, He is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Then there’s Jael. In a society where women were largely expected to stay in the background, quietly fulfilling domestic roles, Jael’s actions are not only surprising, but they are downright shocking. She wasn’t a warrior or a leader in the traditional sense—she didn’t have an army at her back, nor was she a trained fighter. But in a moment that would change the course of Israel’s history, she played a pivotal role in the victory over the Canaanites.

The story goes that the general Sisera, a powerful enemy leader, had fled the battle, retreating from the defeat of his army. As he ran, he found himself seeking refuge in Jael’s tent, believing he would be safe there. It was a common practice for people to seek hospitality in times of danger, and Jael did just that—she welcomed him in, offered him rest, and gave him food and drink. To the outside world, she might have seemed like someone who had no part to play in the ongoing war. But what Sisera didn’t know was that his refuge would turn into his grave. "Jael, the wife of Heber, took a tent peg and a hammer and went quietly to him while he lay fast asleep, exhausted. She drove the tent peg through his temple into the ground, and he died" (Judges 4:21). The image of her hammering a tent peg through the head of a sleeping man is not one we typically associate with a heroine. It's an unsettling moment in the Bible, one that might leave us wondering why God would use such a means to bring about victory.

But this story reveals a profound truth: sometimes God’s strength shows up in the most unexpected ways, through people and actions we would never guess. Jael was not the hero the world was looking for. She didn’t fit the mold of the warrior, the strategist, or the leader that everyone might have expected. Yet, in God’s eyes, she was exactly the hero needed for that moment. While others saw her as just a woman in a tent, God saw her as the one who would bring the victory.

Her story teaches us that God can use anyone, regardless of gender, status, or background, to bring about His purposes. As it’s written, "The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). Jael’s role challenges the way we often think about the people God uses. We tend to think that God only works through the strong, the powerful, or those in positions of influence. But Jael was an ordinary woman, who, in the right moment, became the instrument of God’s deliverance. Her willingness to act, to step into a situation with courage, even though it wasn’t her place in society, shows us that God’s plans are often carried out by those we least expect.

In this way, Jael’s story is a reminder that God’s calling is not limited by the roles society places on us. It’s not about fitting into a box or being the person everyone expects you to be—it’s about being faithful to the task God gives you, no matter how unconventional or surprising it may seem. Just as God used Jael’s unexpected bravery to accomplish His will, He can use us in ways we might never have imagined. And perhaps, this is why the Bible doesn’t hesitate to include her story—to remind us that God’s plans often defy our understanding, and that He can use anyone, in any circumstance, to fulfill His purpose.

Next, let’s think about Mephibosheth. On the surface, he seemed like someone with nothing to offer, a man who had been dealt a rough hand by life. He was the crippled grandson of King Saul, and when we meet him in the story, he’s hiding in fear, living in a place of exile, far from the glory of his royal family. After Saul’s kingdom fell and David ascended to the throne, it was customary for new kings to eliminate any remaining heirs of the old dynasty to secure their rule. Mephibosheth, as a descendant of Saul, would have been an obvious target. He had every reason to fear for his life, and in his situation, no one would have blamed him for staying hidden and out of sight. By all earthly standards, he was powerless, broken, and insignificant.

But when David discovered Mephibosheth, his response was not what anyone would have expected. Instead of seeking vengeance, as was customary for kings in that time, David responded with grace. "David said, 'Do not be afraid, for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table'" (2 Samuel 9:7). David invited him to sit at his table, to share in the blessings and privileges of the king’s family, as if Mephibosheth were one of his own sons. This was not just an act of charity—it was a symbol of something much deeper: the lavish, unmerited grace of God. David could have treated Mephibosheth as a threat or a reminder of past conflicts, but instead, he chose to extend love and dignity to someone who had nothing to offer in return.

Mephibosheth had been living in shame, crippled both physically and emotionally, feeling out of place and unworthy of any favor. He didn’t deserve the king’s kindness. In fact, when David called for him, Mephibosheth was full of self-doubt and humility, calling himself a “dead dog,” unworthy of the king’s attention. "What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?" (2 Samuel 9:8). And yet, David didn’t see him through the lens of his brokenness or his past. Instead, he saw a person worth rescuing, worth honoring, worth being part of his family.

This story of Mephibosheth is a beautiful picture of grace, a grace that doesn’t consider what we’ve done or what we can offer. It’s not about our worthiness or our abilities; it’s about God’s heart to redeem and restore, to welcome us in despite our flaws and failures. Mephibosheth didn’t have to earn his place at David’s table—David simply gave it to him, offering him a new identity, a new position, and a place of honor in the king’s court.

In the same way, God’s grace works in our lives. He doesn’t wait for us to become worthy or to clean up our act before He extends His love. He invites us into His family, regardless of our past, regardless of the mistakes we’ve made or the things we’ve done. Like Mephibosheth, we are often broken, out of place, and far from where we want to be. But God doesn’t see us through the lens of our imperfections. He sees us as His children, worthy of His love and mercy, and He offers us a place at His table. "But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved" (Ephesians 2:4-5).

Mephibosheth’s story is a reminder that God’s grace isn’t something we can earn—it’s a gift. No matter where we’ve been or what we’ve done, God offers us forgiveness, love, and a new identity in Him. Just as David’s invitation was a symbol of mercy and restoration, God’s grace welcomes us into His Kingdom, not because of anything we’ve done to deserve it, but simply because of His love for us. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God" (Ephesians 2:8).

Then, there’s the story of the young boy with the loaves and fish. At first glance, he might seem the least likely hero in the Bible. Here was just a child with a simple, humble meal—a few loaves of bread and some fish. By anyone’s standards, this hardly seemed enough to make a difference, let alone feed thousands. In fact, it would be easy to overlook his offering as insignificant. But in this story, we see something truly remarkable: when Jesus took that small offering, He miraculously multiplied it, turning a meager lunch into a meal that would feed over 5,000 people. "Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish" (John 6:11). This story has always been one of my favorites because it beautifully illustrates how God takes what seems small, insignificant, or even inadequate, and turns it into something extraordinary.

The boy didn’t have a grand speech, he didn’t lead an army, and he wasn’t important in the eyes of the world. He wasn’t someone anyone would expect to make a huge impact. All he had was his humble offering—nothing more than a few loaves of bread and some fish. "Another of His disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up, 'Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?'" (John 6:8-9). But in the hands of Jesus, that seemingly insignificant meal became a feast for thousands. And it wasn’t just about the food—it was about the willingness to offer what he had, no matter how little. In that moment, the boy’s gift was all Jesus needed to do something miraculous.

This story is a reminder that God doesn’t need us to have it all figured out, or to bring grand talents, resources, or accomplishments. He doesn’t need us to be perfect or equipped for every challenge. What He asks for is simply our willingness to offer whatever we have, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant it may be. That boy could have easily held on to his lunch, thinking it was too little to make a difference. But instead, he chose to give it away, and because of that act of faith, God multiplied it in ways no one could have imagined. "When they had all had enough to eat, He said to His disciples, 'Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted'" (John 6:12). There was more than enough, and even leftovers, all from one simple meal.

When we surrender our gifts—no matter how small they seem—God can take them and use them in powerful ways for His glory. This story teaches us that it’s not about the size of the gift we offer, but the heart behind it. "Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 9:7). God isn’t looking for us to have everything together before we step out in faith; He’s looking for a heart that’s willing to trust Him with whatever we have. When we put our small offerings into His hands, He can take them and do things beyond what we could ever imagine. The boy’s simple meal became a miracle, and so can our humble offerings when we surrender them to God. "And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work" (2 Corinthians 9:8).

When we look at these stories of unexpected heroes, we’re reminded of something profound: God doesn’t choose us because we’re the most capable or the strongest. He doesn’t need us to be perfect or to have all the right skills. What He needs is for us to be available. "For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him" (2 Chronicles 16:9). God can use whatever we offer to accomplish His purposes. Whether it’s a left-handed warrior, a brave woman with a hammer, a broken man with nothing to offer, or a child with a lunch, God can take our ordinary lives and transform them into extraordinary acts of faith.

These stories show us that God’s plan is often bigger than what we see on the surface. He doesn’t need the most obvious or the most capable people to accomplish His work—sometimes, He just needs someone willing to be used, no matter how unlikely they seem. As Scripture reminds us, "But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong" (1 Corinthians 1:27). It’s in those quiet, unexpected moments that God can show up and do something amazing. So, when we look at these heroes, let’s remember: God doesn’t need perfection. He just needs a willing heart, no matter how small, broken, or unexpected it may be. We might not see the big picture right away, but if we’re open, God can take our ordinary lives and weave them into something extraordinary. "For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do" (Ephesians 2:10). Who knows? Maybe the next "unexpected hero" is right in front of us, or even within us.

I hope you were blessed with this message. Thank you for “stoppin’ by”! I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Anna M. C. Hazen 2025