This week I had a conversation with a man who asked me two questions that were both logical and fair. He wasn’t trying to argue—he was genuinely curious. And honestly, I’ve heard both before, just in different ways.
The first one was: “If God chooses leaders, then does my vote or my choice really matter?”
The second was: “If God already knows who’s going to Heaven and who’s going to Hell, then why should we bother telling people about Jesus?”
Those are big questions. And you know what? They deserve real answers—not vague opinions, not “Well, I just think…” but answers straight from Scripture.
When people say, “If God chooses leaders, then my choice doesn’t matter,” they often point to Daniel 2:21: “He removes kings and sets up kings.” Or Romans 13:1: “There is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.” Those verses are 100% true. God is sovereign over human governments. He doesn’t need permission from a voting booth, a parliament, or a dictator.
But that doesn’t mean our choices are meaningless. The Bible is full of moments where God’s plan unfolded through the decisions of people—sometimes righteous, sometimes evil.
Joseph’s story is one of the clearest examples. His brothers hated him, sold him into slavery, and lied to their father about it. That was all on them—sinful, selfish, cruel. But in Genesis 50:20, Joseph said, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” Their choice was real. Their guilt was real. And yet God used their actions to place Joseph in a position to save entire nations from famine. Free will and God’s sovereignty worked at the same time.
Or consider Cyrus, king of Persia. In Isaiah 45:1, God called Cyrus “His anointed” and declared He would use him to rebuild Jerusalem—this was written roughly 150 years before Cyrus was even born. And when Cyrus came to power, he freely chose to issue the decree to rebuild the Temple (Ezra 1:1–4). God chose, and Cyrus acted.
Sometimes God even appoints leaders we would never choose ourselves. Nebuchadnezzar, a pagan king who destroyed Jerusalem and carried God’s people into exile, was used by God to bring judgment on a nation that had turned away from Him. And yet in Daniel 4, God humbled him until Nebuchadnezzar declared that the Most High rules over the kingdoms of men. In the New Testament, Pontius Pilate stood in judgment over Jesus Himself. In John 19:11, Jesus told him, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above.” Even Pilate—standing in the most infamous trial in history—was there because God allowed it.
It’s like watching a recorded football game. You already know who wins, but the players still have to run the plays. God knows the end from the beginning (Isaiah 46:10), but He still calls you to get in the game. And your “small” decision—your prayer, your vote, your stand for righteousness—may be part of a much bigger move He’s making.
So pray for your leaders (1 Timothy 2:1–2). Yes, even the ones you didn’t vote for. Vote and make wise choices. Stand for what is right. God can use your obedience as part of His plan—or, if you choose poorly, He may still use it to bring about correction that points people back to Him. His sovereignty doesn’t cancel your responsibility—it gives you confidence that His plan can’t be stopped.
Now, the second question: If God already knows who’s going to Heaven and who’s going to Hell, why should we bother telling people about Jesus?
Yes, the Bible says in Jeremiah 1:5, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.” Psalm 139:16 says, “In Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me.” God’s knowledge is complete. He’s never been surprised. But knowing something will happen isn’t the same as forcing it to happen against someone’s will.
Think about Jonah. God knew the Ninevites would repent when they heard the message. Jonah didn’t know that. Jonah didn’t even want that. But God still sent Jonah to preach—and when Jonah finally obeyed, the city turned to God (Jonah 3:5). God’s foreknowledge didn’t make Jonah’s mission pointless—it made it certain that Jonah’s obedience would bear fruit.
Romans 10:14 asks, “How will they believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” That’s the point. God uses the preaching of His Word—spoken, written, lived out—as the means to bring people to faith. Even Paul, the greatest missionary in history, still went city to city, synagogue to synagogue, market to market, telling people about Jesus—because the command from Christ in Matthew 28:19–20 was to “go and make disciples,” not to sit back and wait for people to come on their own.
And if you want a “surprise salvation” story, look at the thief on the cross in Luke 23:39–43. If there was ever a man you’d think was too far gone, it was him—a criminal, dying a deserved death. But in his final moments, he turned to Jesus and said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
God knew that moment would come. Nobody else saw it coming. But here’s the thing—somebody still had to see Jesus lifted up beside that thief for him to believe. He had to witness the Savior, even in the last hours of his life.
That’s why I never write anyone off in jail ministry. I’ve stood face-to-face with men who looked hardened beyond hope—arms crossed, eyes cold—and watched them slowly lean in as the gospel was preached. I’ve seen walls crumble and tears fall from people who swore they’d never change. Just like the thief, they’re staring at the reality of death and judgment, and for the first time, they see Jesus clearly. I don’t know who will respond, but God already does—and He’s told me to show up and share, because that moment might be their moment.
Jesus Himself gave the parable of the sower in Luke 8. The farmer threw seed on all kinds of soil—not because he knew they’d all grow, but because his job was to plant. God knows which seeds will take root, but He still tells us to plant generously. And sometimes, the planting changes the planter. Sharing the gospel, discipling others, walking alongside them—that work shapes you just as much as it shapes them.
God already knows who will accept Him, but He hasn’t given you the list. So you tell everybody. The only way to find the ones who will respond is to give the invitation to all.
Both questions boil down to the same truth: God’s control over the outcome doesn’t remove your responsibility in the process. If anything, it should make you more confident to act. Whether it’s leading a nation or leading a soul to Christ, He’s in charge of the final result. But He’s told you to play your part in how that result comes about.
So no, you don’t get to sit on the sidelines. Not in politics. Not in evangelism. Not in discipleship. God’s sovereignty isn’t a reason to do nothing—it’s the reason to do something, knowing He’s already secured the victory.
Get in the game.