Dear Mom,

I’ve been thinking lately about the elections that just passed — all the noise, the waiting, the endless talk about who won and who lost. Every time another result came in, you could feel the tension rise, especially when things didn’t go the way people hoped. It reminded me how much uncertainty clings to human choice. No matter how hard we plan or how passionately we vote, outcomes slip through our fingers.

But that same week, while I was watching all the commotion, I couldn’t help thinking about a different kind of election — one that isn’t swayed by polls or campaigns, one that never surprises its Author. God’s election isn’t uncertain, and it doesn’t depend on human effort. It’s not about the will of the people; it’s about the mercy of God. In a world where every human election leaves someone disappointed, there’s deep comfort in knowing that God’s choosing never fails. His kingdom doesn’t hang in the balance, and His purposes don’t shift with the votes of men. He chooses, He calls, and He keeps — and in that unshakable certainty, the heart can finally rest.

The more I thought about it, the more grateful I became that God’s government isn’t a democracy. His rule isn’t subject to public opinion or popular vote. There are no recounts in heaven, no campaigns, no chance that His will might lose by a narrow margin. When He purposes something, it happens. When He chooses someone, they are His forever.

That’s what Paul meant when he wrote, “Those whom He foreknew He also predestined… those He predestined He also called; those He called He also justified; and those He justified He also glorified” (Rom. 8:29–30). Every verb is in the past tense, as though God is describing a story already finished. We call it the golden chain of salvation — and not one link can break. From foreknowledge to glorification, God’s hand holds every stage.

Jesus said the same thing in John 10: “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand.” That’s not a promise with conditions; it’s an unbreakable guarantee. His grip on us is stronger than our grip on Him.

Charles Spurgeon once said, “If heaven depended on my holding tight to Christ, I would despair. But it depends on His hold of me.” And R.C. Sproul echoed the same truth: “If we could lose our salvation, we would.” I’ve carried those words with me for years. They remind me that our assurance isn’t built on emotion or performance, but on the faithfulness of the God who keeps His own.

Sometimes, though, we live as if our salvation were as fragile as an election result — as if one bad week, one failure, one wandering thought might overturn the outcome. But that’s not the gospel. The gospel says, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion” (Phil. 1:6). The same sovereign hand that elected us is the hand that preserves us.

That truth gives me peace when my own strength feels small. I’ve learned that my assurance doesn’t rest on the steadiness of my faith but on the steadfastness of His promise. Even when we stumble, His grace doesn’t falter. Even when we waver, His purpose stands firm.

So when I see the world tossed by uncertainty, I remind myself that there’s one election that can never be lost — the election of grace. God chose before time began, Christ purchased at the cross, and the Spirit seals forever. That’s why I can rest, not in my ability to hold on to Him, but in His power to hold on to me.

With love,
Your son

Passages to read together:

• Romans 8:29–30
• John 10:27–29
• Philippians 1:6
• Isaiah 46:9–10
• Psalm 33:10–11