Priscilla Shirer on the God of Second Chances

Have you ever felt like Jonah—stuck in a place you never wanted to be, swallowed whole by the consequences of your own choices? It’s hot, heavy, and suffocating. Yet even in that dark place, there is grace. Sometimes the belly of the fish isn’t punishment—it’s preservation. It’s the pause God allows, so we can hear Him whisper again: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Priscilla Shirer reminds us that God is the God of do-overs. As children, when we stumbled in games like jump rope, we’d call out, “Can I get a do-over?” That longing never left us. Even now, in the messiness of adulthood and faith, we still find ourselves asking God for another chance. And here’s the good news: He gives it—again and again.

The book of Jonah captures this truth in just one powerful line: “The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time.” That verse holds more hope than we often realize. Jonah had rebelled, run in the opposite direction, and yet God’s word came to him again. The mission didn’t change. God’s calling didn’t shift. But His mercy gave Jonah another opportunity to walk in obedience.

And isn’t that the story of our lives? Not just second chances, but third, fifth, even twentieth chances. Each time we fall short, God’s mercy is there—slow to anger, rich in love, patient with us far beyond what we deserve.

The Bible is full of these stories. Adam and Eve lost Eden, yet God gave them Seth, and through that line came redemption. Moses spent forty years in the wilderness because of his own mistakes, yet God met him in a burning bush and called him to lead His people. Ruth’s story began with loss and despair, but grace rewrote her ending, grafting her into the very lineage of Jesus. Rahab, marked by a shameful past, became a mother in the Messiah’s family tree. Over and over again, we see the God of second chances turning ashes into beauty.

Jonah’s story is ours too. Running from God only leads to storms—not just for us, but for those around us. Yet even then, God appoints a “fish called grace” to stop us before we drown. That fish doesn’t feel like grace at first—it feels like confinement, like rock bottom. But it is the very thing that carries us safely back to where we can begin again.

Priscilla challenges us with this: When God gives you another chance, His word remains the same. The instructions don’t change; His calling doesn’t shift. Like Jonah, we often find ourselves right back at the same starting point, hearing the same words: “Arise. Go.” That’s His mercy—not only giving us a fresh start, but also reminding us of the path we were always meant to walk.

If you feel swallowed today—caught in a consequence, weighed down by regret—don’t mistake it for the end. You’re in the pause of grace. The God who came to Jonah a second time is coming to you. He has not given up on you. His patience is perfect, His kindness relentless.

And if there is still breath in your lungs, there is still a second chance.