Having wisdom doesn’t automatically make you wise. When God walked in the Garden of Eden with Adam and Eve—talking, planning, and sharing—still they were swayed by an influencing voice that told them they didn’t have the very best, that there was another way.
God doesn’t make humankind wise; it is up to us to choose. Again and again, through both great and small decisions, our choices are set before us. At the core, compassion’s reward of abundance and grace stares us in the face—but most of the time, we overlook it because it seems so small.
The influence of our decisions, both large and small, adds up to the treasure we either use for the glory of our King or that sits decaying, mused over again and again, waiting for a day that never comes.
Why did Eve ever listen to the serpent in the Garden of Eden?
Perhaps what once drew her into God’s discussions had become too complex. I feel that pain—the times we live in are saturated with multiplicity. There will always be another question to ask, another issue to examine. Questioning is important, but in the end, what we feed on becomes our nutrient and fuel. For Eve, it was an agreement with God’s enemy; for Solomon, a pact with his own comfort.
Proverbs 18:17–19
“The first one to plead his cause seems right,
until his neighbor comes and examines him.
Casting lots causes contentions to cease
and keeps the mighty apart.
A brother offended is harder to win than a strong city,
and contentions are like the bars of a castle.”
Solomon’s contentions and the examination by others became a prison of his own making. His choice to build a kingdom for himself took first place. The longings in his heart and his selfish desires outweighed the glorious abundance of wisdom given to him long ago.
Whatever is abundant—no matter how rich the gifts of God—will never be enough to keep a deceptive heart from wandering its own way. Whatever we turn to becomes our refuge.
When we choose to abandon our false refuge of contention, we become free to receive the God-sized compensation package. Solomon wasn’t ready—and neither was Eve.
Are we?
Are we willing to listen to the residue of our own hearts? To the abundance that still remains, even after truth upon truth has been planted within us?
Proverbs 18:20–21
“A man’s stomach shall be satisfied from the fruit of his mouth;
from the produce of his lips he shall be filled.
Death and life are in the power of the tongue,
and those who love it will eat its fruit.”
We must make space for truth today, even in the midst of worldwide contention.
Truth cannot be trapped—but it can easily be dismissed or ignored.
We, as humans, are easily ensnared. We turn away, unwilling to examine our own bias, and become influenced by another’s voice. Whatever fills our mouths and our thoughts will eventually settle into our entire being, as we digest the whole enchilada.
We say we want to “know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge,” but ultimately, that means learning to feed on our relationship with God and His good food—even when we cannot yet see the outcome.
The consideration of Solomon’s unique path and ultimate downfall reveals how self-serving pursuits can replace God’s agenda for restoration. His legacy became one of personal satisfaction rather than divine fulfillment.
God’s treasure always reproduces a crop. This is the universal principle of sowing and reaping—and it carries with it a reward that matches whatever fuel we’re feeding on.
Make no mistake: what we nurture becomes our nature.
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