We are all the hero of our own stories. We narrate our lives in ways that make our choices feel reasonable, even admirable. We know how to frame our motives generously and our missteps sympathetically. Left to ourselves, we rarely sound like villains.
Sin is more than happy to take advantage of that. It doesn’t usually shout; it whispers. It counsels us in ways that feel familiar and affirming. Its advice often lines up neatly with what we already want, what we already fear, or what we already believe we deserve. That’s what makes it so persuasive. We don’t feel tempted so much as validated.
Scripture never presents sin as merely breaking rules. It presents it as listening to the wrong voice. From the garden onward, the problem is not a lack of information but misplaced trust. We listen because the counsel resonates with our desires, and we follow because it feels like freedom—even when it quietly tightens its grip.
God knows this about us. He knows how stubborn our sense of autonomy can be, how confident we are in our own judgment, how allergic we are to being told we might be wrong. And so, again and again, He makes a way forward that cuts against the grain of popular wisdom. A way that doesn’t flatter our instincts. A way that often looks impractical, inefficient, or outright foolish.
In Noah’s day, God’s way didn’t look clever or compelling. It looked absurd. Building an ark on dry land is not the kind of obedience that wins admiration. It’s the kind that invites ridicule. And yet that hidden, mocked, and misunderstood path was the only one that led to life.
That pattern hasn’t gone away.
God’s leading is still often quiet rather than flashy, narrow rather than obvious, and inconvenient rather than impressive. It rarely aligns with the loudest voices or the strongest consensus. And it still requires something deeply uncomfortable from us: trust before understanding.
So let me encourage you today, plainly and without softening the edges. Listen to the Lord’s leading—in every sense of the word. Pay attention. Lean in. Obey even when it costs you credibility or comfort. Especially when it does. God’s way may not always make sense to everyone else, but it leads somewhere sin never will.
God,
You know how easily we trust our own instincts and call it wisdom. You see how quickly we listen to voices that affirm us instead of challenge us.
Forgive us for the ways we have welcomed counsel that aligns with our desires but pulls us away from You. Forgive us for mistaking familiarity for truth.
Teach us to recognize Your voice and to trust Your leading, even when it feels foolish or costly. Give us ears to hear and hearts willing to follow.
Help us to walk the narrow path with faith, courage, and humility, trusting that Your way leads to life.
Amen.