Part 1 Seeds Don’t Forget.

When I started walking intimately with God, one of the areas He really began opening my eyes to was this:

Actions have consequences.

And the seeds we sow will eventually find us.

The Bible says:

“Whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.” — Galatians 6:7

I think a lot of people read this verse, glance over it, and keep moving.

But do we really understand the gravity of what it is saying?

You are sowing every day.

The way you treat people is a seed.

The way you handle someone’s heart is a seed.

The way you respond when you’ve done someone wrong is a seed.

Your honesty is a seed.

Your dishonesty is a seed.

Your kindness is a seed.

Your cruelty is a seed.

Your humility is a seed.

Even the things you think you got away with can be seeds.

And one thing about a seed is that it doesn’t always come up immediately.

That’s what makes sowing and reaping so dangerous when we don’t understand the principle.

You can sow something today and see nothing tomorrow.

Nothing next month.

Nothing next year.

And because nothing happened immediately, you assume nothing will happen at all.

But seeds have seasons.

Sometimes the harvest doesn’t even show up in your own lifetime. Your future generations can encounter the consequences of decisions you made years before they were born.

That reminds me of King Hezekiah.

Hezekiah: “At Least It Won’t Happen in My Lifetime”

In Isaiah 39, Hezekiah made a foolish decision.

After receiving visitors from Babylon, he proudly showed them everything in his house—his treasures, silver, gold, spices, precious ointment, armory. The Bible says there was nothing in his house or dominion that Hezekiah did not show them.

Then Isaiah came to him.

Isaiah told Hezekiah that the day would come when everything in his house would be carried away to Babylon.

But it went even further.

Some of his own descendants would be taken away and become eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.

In other words:

Hezekiah made the mistake, but future generations would feel the consequences.

And Hezekiah’s response has always stood out to me.

He essentially took comfort in the fact that there would be peace during his lifetime.

That response bothers me.

Because this is the same Hezekiah who, when God told him that he was going to die, turned his face to the wall, cried, prayed and pleaded with God.

And God heard him.

God added fifteen years to his life.

But now Isaiah tells him that his descendants are going to suffer?

Where was that same energy?

Where were the tears?

Where was the pleading?

Where was:

“God, please don’t let what I did fall on generations after me!”

We don’t see it.

Why?

Because it wasn’t going to happen during his lifetime.

That mentality still exists today:

As long as it doesn’t affect me, I’m good.

But when you understand generations, you stop living like your decisions end with you.

They don’t.

Some Seeds Are People You Hurt

I know people who have hurt others badly.

• Broken hearts.

• Cheated people.

• Manipulated people.

• Lied.

• Used people.

• Did people dirty.

And then simply moved on with their lives.

No genuine repentance.

No apology.

No attempt to make things right.

Sometimes we think because God forgives us, we never have to confront the damage we caused.

But repentance is more than saying:

“God, forgive me.”

True repentance produces a change of heart.

And when appropriate, that changed heart will make you want to take responsibility for what you have done.

There are people who are so full of pride that they cannot even look someone they deeply hurt in the eyes and say:

“I was wrong. I hurt you. What I did was not right. I am sorry.”

Yet some of these same people will proudly call themselves men of God. (Sorry I’m coming for the men today….)

Sorry to burst your bubble, sir.

A title doesn’t make you a man of God.

Character does.

A true man of God should desire to do what is right according to God’s standard—even when doing the right thing costs him his pride.

• Even when it makes him uncomfortable.

• Even when he might look foolish.

• Even when he cannot control how the other person responds.

Because doing what is right before God matters more than protecting your ego.

Sometimes Pride Is Fear Wearing Armor

I’ve seen so many men who appear full of pride, but underneath that pride is actually fear.

• Fear of rejection.

• Fear of losing control.

• Fear of admitting failure.

• Fear of seeing the damage they caused.

Sometimes people cannot face the person they hurt because looking that person in the eyes forces them to confront a version of themselves they would rather pretend never existed.

I mean, who wants to be the bad guy?

Nobody.

So instead of confronting what they did, they create narratives that protect their ego.

I don’t owe anybody anything.

I never go backward.

I don’t talk to exes.

That happened years ago.

They’ll get over it.

But sometimes what we call “moving forward” is really running away.

And sometimes what looks like pride is simply unresolved fear wearing armor.

A true man of God cannot allow pride or fear to govern his decisions.

There are grown men walking around physically grown but emotionally still wounded boys—carrying rejection from fathers, mothers, siblings, friendships and relationships they never dealt with.

And those wounds begin making decisions for them.

They fear rejection, so they reject first.

They fear vulnerability, so they become emotionally unavailable.

They fear losing control, so they manipulate.

They fear accountability, so they disappear.

They fear looking wrong, so they never apologize.

Then they call it strength.

But avoiding accountability isn’t strength.

I had to stop here, but trust me—I have a juicy story to share about this. 👀 Watch out for Part 2… you definitely don’t want to miss it!

🎶 Music Time

Da Young Disciples — “Trials and Tribulations”

Thank me later. 🔥