the sacred inheritance of God’s promises — for something as fleeting as a bowl of stew.

So too do addicts (as we once were) trade away the treasure of their very souls, God’s image within them, for a momentary “fix.” They choose the comfort of immediate relief over the weighty, glorious inheritance they could have in Christ: peace, dignity, eternity.

It’s sobering, isn’t it? And it should be. Hebrews warns us plainly,

“See that no one is sexually immoral or is godless like Esau, who for a single meal sold his inheritance rights as the oldest son. Afterward, as you know, when he wanted to inherit this blessing, he was rejected. Even though he sought the blessing with tears, he could not change what he had done.” (Hebrews 12:16-17)

Sin always promises satisfaction. But it starves the soul.
It barters eternity for a bowl.
It exchanges God’s smile for the Devil’s smirk.
It treats holy birthrights — dignity, purpose, calling, eternal life — as worthless scraps.

Isn’t that exactly how sin works in all of us?
We look at the “bowl,” whatever it may be, and decide it’s worth more than God’s promises.
It could be an addict’s fix.
It could be a bottle.
It could be the temporary relief of gossiping about someone else’s flaws.
It could be the pride of sarcasm, the satisfaction of slander, the smugness of condescension.

Even hate is chosen over the birthright. Declaring war and destroying those around them.

Sin wears many disguises, but at its heart it’s always the same:

we turn our backs on our inheritance as beloved children of God to clutch at something that will be gone in moments — leaving only emptiness and regret.

• In gossip, we trade the joy of loving fellowship for the cheap thrill of tearing another down.
• In slander, we exchange the high calling of truth for the satisfaction of a lie that wounds.
• In sarcasm, we forfeit gentleness and build walls with cutting words, forfeiting tender intimacy.
• In condescension, we let pride dethrone humility, losing the honor of Christlike meekness.

Each of these is like Esau’s bowl of stew — a momentary indulgence, taken at the catastrophic expense of something sacred.

How many times have we all done it?
I know I have. Many times over.

But here’s the hope that keeps me breathing:
Our God is a restorer.
Jesus took on the penalty of every reckless trade we’ve ever made.
He died to buy back the birthright we so carelessly despised.
He welcomes us home with open arms, washing off the stains, clothing us again in His righteousness, and saying:

“This is still your inheritance. You are Mine.”

🙏 A Simple Prayer:
Lord,
keep me from ever despising what is holy.
Help me treasure Your promises more than any fleeting pleasure or dark comfort.
Thank You for restoring my soul, again and again, when I have chosen poorly.
I want to cherish my birthright as Your daughter, bought by Your blood.
Amen.