Erosion of devotion happens when we begin to eat off of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and stop eating from the Tree of Life.

Erosion — the gradual destruction or diminution of something.
It’s not an immediate collapse; it’s a slow fade. A heart that once burned with passion for God begins to cool, not from rebellion, but from distraction.
Devotion — love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause.
True devotion to God is sustained through communion—through relationship, not routine. It’s when our hearts stay tethered to His presence, not just His principles.

Two Trees

The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil symbolizes the human desire to decide apart from God—to define right and wrong without His counsel.
It represents self-reliance, pride, and the illusion of wisdom. Eating from this tree brought death—not just physical death, but spiritual separation.

The Tree of Life, on the other hand, was a divine source of eternal life and spiritual sustenance.
It represented God’s wisdom, His righteousness, His presence. Revelation describes it again, saying,
“The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.” (Revelation 22:2)
But after Adam and Eve sinned, humanity was banished from the Garden of Eden and cut off from the Tree of Life.

There are seasons when God gives you a vision that is so alive, so clear, that it burns in your spirit. But somewhere along the journey, the battles, the disappointments, the delays, and the mockery of others begin to strip the life out of that vision. What once felt like a living, breathing promise now looks like a valley of scattered bones.
 
This morning, the Lord took me back to Ezekiel 37 — the valley of dry bones — and reminded me that resurrection doesn’t begin with the bones moving. It begins with a Word.
 
“He asked me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’ And I answered, ‘O Lord God, You know.’” – Ezekiel 37:3
 

It happens over and over.
Same cycle. Same complaint.
Talking about your woman, your relationship, your issues, your insecurities like you're helpless—like you want to be stuck.
 
But do you?
Do you really want to stay trapped in the same cycles?
The same toxic patterns?
The same lack of problem solving?
The same pride?
Aren't you tired of it?
 
Because it sounds like you’re feeding off the dysfunction.
Feeding your own doubt.
Feeding your own fear.
And then trying to serve it up to other people like it’s wisdom.
Like it's a meal that will nourish you.
 

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​There’s this ache in my spirit I can’t always explain.
I know what God showed me. I know the vision He placed in my heart. It wasn’t a fleeting dream or a random idea—it was something sacred. Something I didn’t even ask for, but something I carry like fire in my bones. And yet… everything around me seems to scream, “You’re wrong.”
Have you ever been there?
People around you don’t see it. They try to love you, sure. But their words—sometimes laced in doubt or casual concern—can shake you to your core.
“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Maybe God wants you to focus on something smaller.”
“Are you sure that was Him?”
And suddenly… I’m battling. Not with them. But with myself.
“God… was that really You?”
“Did I misunderstand You?”
“Am I even worthy of this calling?”
“Why isn’t it working yet?”
“Why do I feel like I’m proving my doubters right?”