Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, did not fall in one dramatic moment but gradually through small, seemingly reasonable compromises that he justified with his brilliant mind; this demonstrates that understanding a truth intellectually does not automatically lead to living it, and that moral decline often happens incrementally through choices that feel justified in the moment.
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The TRAGIC Downfall of Solomon | The King Who Had EverythingAdded:
The room smells like foreign incense. It is late. [music] The lamps are burning low. And an old man sits on a throne of ivory and [music] gold. Not ruling, not thinking, just surviving the silence of a room that has slowly over decades [music] filled with things he cannot explain to the god he used to talk to.
On the shelves, [music] figurines, bronze faces, stone eyes that catch [music] the lamplight and give nothing back. He closes his eyes.
Hel, he thinks the Hebrew word he will write before dawn. Vapor, mist. The thing that catches light for one [music] second and is gone before your hand can close around it.
This is Solomon, King of Israel. The man God called by [music] name before he was born. The man who built the most glorious temple in human history. The man who [music] had 666 talents of gold flowing into his treasury every single year. An income so vast that silver became worthless [music] in Jerusalem, treated like ordinary stones on the road.
666 [music] talents of gold, 700 [music] wives, 300 concubines, the greatest wisdom any human being has [music] ever possessed.
And he is alone in a room full of gods that never answered, whispering to himself that it was all nothing.
But here is what nobody tells you about Solomon's fall. It did not happen the night he built the first altar on the hill outside Jerusalem. It did not happen when he married the first foreign princess. It did not happen in a single moment of dramatic rebellion, a throne room confrontation, a decision he knew was wrong. It happened in a corridor, in a silence, in a moment so small he probably did not remember it the next morning. [music] That is the bone chilling truth about the wisest man who ever lived. He did not fall all at once. He fell [music] one step at a time. Each step reasonable, each step justified by a mind brilliant enough to make any compromise sound like wisdom.
Today we [music] go back to the beginning. To a young prince kneeling in a dream at Gibian, to the [music] gift that became the weapon. To the corridor where the fall actually [music] started.
Not in the history books. Not in the theology, but in one unspoken decision on an ordinary evening. And to the hill outside Jerusalem where Solomon [music] built his altars. The same hill where centuries later a man would stand and weep.
This is the story of the king who had everything and what everything cost him.
990 [music] BC Jerusalem. David is dead 3 days. The city still carries the smell of mourning, cedar smoke from the funeral offerings, [music] the specific quiet of a population holding its breath. A young man has just inherited the most powerful [music] throne in the region and the most complicated legacy in the ancient world. His name [music] is Solomon in Hebrew, Schlalommo from Shalom, peace.
He was [music] not named by accident.
God had told David explicitly, "Your son will not be a warrior. He will build my house and through him I will establish [music] a dynasty that will never end."
That is what Solomon inherits. Not just [music] a kingdom, a divine commission, a name that is also a promise. But there is another document he [music] inherits, the law. The specific instructions God gave to the kings of Israel through [music] Moses, written centuries before Solomon was born in Deuteronomy [music] 17. The king must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself [music] or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them. He must not take many wives or his heart will [music] be led astray. He must not accumulate large amounts of silver and gold. Three prohibitions, [music] three specific guard rails written for a king exactly like him. A king [music] powerful enough to violate them, gifted enough to rationalize them, blessed enough to [music] believe he was the exception. Solomon would have memorized these words. He was the kind of man who memorized everything. [music] He would violate all three systematically completely over the course of 40 years.
But first, [music] the dream.
It is the night after the great sacrifice at Gibian. Solomon has ordered a thousand burnt [music] offerings on the high altar. The fires have been burning since afternoon. By nightfall, the [music] smell of cedar and blood and burning fat has settled into everything, into the fabric [music] of his robes, into his hair, into the ground beneath the altar.
Somewhere in the darkness, [music] the priests are still moving, banking the fires, speaking in low voices. The hills of Judah are black against a sky full of stars. Solomon lies down to sleep. He is not yet 30 years old. He has already in the weeks since his father's [music] death executed his brother Adinijah who reached for the throne, executed Joab, [music] the old general who knew too many of David's secrets. Banished the priest who chose the wrong side. He has done what kings do. He has secured his position with the cold precision of a man who understood from childhood [music] that power is not given. It is taken and held.
He knows what kind of world he lives in.
And then in the dark behind [music] his closed eyes, God speaks.
Ask whatever you want. Ask.
Solomon is silent for a moment. [music] In the dream, in that space between the offer and the answer, something moves across his face that no one is [music] there to see. Not calculation, something younger than that.
something that remembers who he actually is beneath the executions and the alliances [music] and the weight of the throne.
He answers, "I am only [music] a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. I am here among a people [music] you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count. So give your servant a discerning [music] heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong.
This is [music] the most beautiful prayer in the Old Testament. And it is the last time [music] Solomon will see himself clearly. He does not ask for long life, does not ask for the death of his enemies, does not ask [music] for gold. He asks to know the difference between right and wrong because he understands [music] in this moment completely that he cannot trust himself to know it without help.
God's response comes like a [music] wave breaking. I will give you a wise and discerning heart so that there will never have been [music] anyone like you nor will there ever be. Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for, both wealth and honor, so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings.
First Kings 3:12-13.
And when Solomon wakes on the ground at Gibian, the dawn is coming up over the Judeian hills, and the ashes of the thousand offerings are still [music] warm. And he carries with him something he did not have when he lay down. A mind unlike any that has ever existed.
Here is the thing about that gift that [music] nobody says out loud. A mind that can see everything clearly, can see the wisdom of God, can trace every cause to its effect, can predict with remarkable accuracy where every road leads. That mind [music] given to a man who also has absolute power is not just a blessing. It is the [music] most dangerous possible combination. Because a mind like that can justify [music] anything. Can look at a clear prohibition and find 20 reasons why this specific situation is different. can understand a warning completely [music] and still construct a case for why the warning does not apply to him. Solomon would spend [music] the next 40 years proving this.
What Solomon builds next [music] is by every earthly measure magnificent.
The temple first 7 years of construction 30,000 conscripted workers from Israel alone. 80,000 stone cutters in the hills. 70,000 laborers carrying materials across the Judean [music] landscape in the heat. The cedar comes from Lebanon by sea, traded from Hyum of Ty. The stone is cut miles [music] from the site because no iron tool was permitted to touch the holy ground.
The temple [music] rises in a kind of enforced silence. Its pieces assembled [music] like a puzzle carved by a thousand hands that never heard the full picture. When it is finished and the ark of the covenant is carried [music] in, when the priests emerge from the inner sanctuary and the glory of God descends into the temple like a visible [music] cloud so thick that the priests cannot stand to minister.
Solomon stands before the altar and [music] prays. And what he prays is extraordinary.
>> But will God really dwell [music] on earth? The heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain you. How much less this temple I have built? First Kings [music] 8:27.
The humility of that. This is Solomon at [music] his best. the man who just built the most magnificent structure in the ancient world standing in front of it and [music] saying even this is not enough to hold you.
This is who he was supposed to be. What follows is prosperity that [music] strains description. His commercial fleet brings back gold from of ivory apes things that had never been seen in Israel. The text says, "Silver became as common [music] in Jerusalem as ordinary stones." And then the specific number embedded in the text like a quiet alarm.
The weight of the gold that Solomon [music] received yearly was 666 talent.
First Kings 10:14.
666 talents, a baseline income. Before the taxes, the tariffs, the tribute from regional governors, before the trade revenue, >> Solomon is the only human figure in all of scripture explicitly connected to the number 666 [music] until the book of Revelation assigns it to the figure it calls the beast.
Scholars have long argued this [music] is not coincidence. It is a warning written into the numbers themselves.
Even the most blessed, [music] most gifted, most divinely favored man who ever lived was not immune [music] to what that much wealth does to a soul. He builds 1,400 chariots, imports 12,000 horses from Egypt, the specific nation God had said never return to, and resells them to the Hittite and Syrian kings at a profit. He builds a throne of pure ivory overlaid with gold with six steps and 12 carved lions. And then the golden shields. He commisss 200 large shields of beaten gold and 300 smaller ones and displays them all in the house of the forest of Lebanon. [music] Stop for a moment at the shields. Beaten gold, 7 kg each, displayed on a wall.
Gold is too soft and too heavy to function in combat. These were never weapons. They were theater, a declaration of invincibility, a message to every visiting king. We are so wealthy that we make our decorative shields from the metal you make [music] your currency from. They worked. They impressed. Nobody invaded. And every single one of them was a direct [music] explicit violation of the covenant between Solomon and God. Horses from [music] Egypt. Gold beyond measure. The prohibited accumulation item by item, year by year, each one reasonable, [music] each one strategic, each one justified by a mind brilliant enough to [music] dress disobedience as policy.
Have you ever built something [music] magnificent? Not because you needed it, but because you needed to prove you didn't need [music] to be afraid. We all have golden shields. The bank account that has [music] to reach a certain number before the anxiety quiets. The title that [music] needs to appear a certain way. The house that is slightly larger than necessary. [music] Things we build not to live in but to look at. proof against the fear that without them we might not [music] be enough.
Solomon's shields were made of gold.
Ours are made of other things, but the logic [music] is the same and the cost is the same.
Now we come to the moment nobody talks about. Not the high places, not the final judgment, not the dramatic tearing of the kingdom. a corridor. Evening, the smell of something that should not be burning.
Solomon had married Pharaoh's daughter first, the most politically significant alliance of his reign, [music] a treaty with Egypt that transformed Israel's geopolitical standing overnight. She was given an entire palace of her own, built from the same quarried [music] stone as the temple. She had servants, musicians, everything she needed. And in one room of her palace, on a low cedar table, she kept her gods.
The night Solomon [music] first passes that open door, the incense has just been lit. The flame on the table is new, still building. The smoke rises in a thin, straight column in the still air of the palace corridor.
On the table, a small bronze figure, maybe 8 in tall, with the blank, serene face of the gods of Egypt.
Solomon [music] stops. Not for long, a second, maybe two. He looks at the figurine. He looks at the woman [music] sitting before it, her back to him, her shoulders moving slightly in a prayer he cannot hear [music] clearly.
She does not know he is there. He thinks the treaty is the treaty. She is not hurting anyone. This is her private faith. I will speak to her about it when things [music] settle.
He keeps walking. He does not speak to her. Things [music] do not settle. They never do. This is where the fall happens. Not in a throne room. Not in a dramatic confrontation [music] with God.
in a corridor, in a two-cond pause, in a sentence he tells himself that is so reasonable, so obviously [music] true in the moment that he does not even register it as a choice.
But it [music] is a choice. Every silence is a choice. Every moment you see something and decide not to name it, that is a decision dressed as a non-decision.
Months [music] pass. More wives arrive.
Each one brings her gods packed carefully with her traveling [music] clothes. The things you carry when you go somewhere you will never leave. To live among a people whose god you do not know. The incense rooms [music] multiply. The palace begins to smell different at night. Cedar and myrr and something else. Something foreign.
Something that does not belong.
Solomon passes door after door. The Hebrew text says his heart was nata.
Bent, [music] inclined, pulled, not snapped, not broken all [music] at once. Nata. The way a tree in constant wind eventually grows permanently tilted, leaning away from the pressure so consistently that the lean [music] becomes its shape.
You would not notice it happening day by day. You would only notice one morning that the tree no longer stood straight and could not remember when it stopped.
As Solomon [music] grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the Lord [music] his God as the heart of David his father had been.
First Kings 11:4 Oldage did not make him wiser. It made him slower, more entrenched, [music] less capable of the repentance that might have saved him. By the time the bend was visible, the wood had [music] set. And there is something in this that is worth sitting with.
Have you ever made a decision that felt so obviously reasonable in the moment and only years later understood [music] that in that corridor, in that 2C pause, something had already been decided?
The wisest man in the world did not fall [music] to something he didn't understand.
He fell to something he understood perfectly.
He fell because understanding the danger is not the [music] same as being immune to it. He fell because he believed somewhere beneath all that wisdom that he was the exception.
He [music] was not the exception.
Neither are we.
The corridor's silence becomes policy.
One evening, Solomon walks not past a door but through one. The woman [music] inside, one of the 700, far from her country, separated by language and culture and theology from everything she knew, has asked him once quietly to come just to see, just [music] to stand with her for a moment. He goes, he stands in the small room, the bronze face on the table, the incense burning, the woman's hands moving in a prayer whose words he does not follow. He holds a stick [music] of incense in his own hand, and he does not quite know how it got there.
He does not think [music] in this moment, I am betraying God. He thinks, she is lonely. [music] She is far from home. What harm does it do? He lights the incense. That small flame, the smoke rising from the incense in the hand of the king of Israel in [music] front of a bronze god is the moment the covenant cracks open. Because for a king, private tolerance [music] does not stay private.
For a king, what he permits in his own palace becomes the pattern. what he participates in [music] even once, even quietly, even for the loneliness of a woman far from home. That becomes something the court [music] sees, something the servants whisper about, >> fall, >> something that transforms [music] slowly from private accommodation to public permission and then public construction.
On the mountain east of Jerusalem, Solomon built a high place for Kimosh, the detestable god of Moab, and for Molech, the detestable god of the Ammonites.
First Kings [music] 11:7.
The mountain east of Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives, stone altars, [music] cedar beams, incense burning in the open air. For Kimosh, who occasionally demanded a child thrown into the fire during a military crisis, a king's firstborn placed on the city wall as a final offering to secure victory. for Molech, whose name in Hebrew combines the words for king and shame, whose priests placed [music] infants into the burning arms of a bronze bullheaded statue while their parents stood and watched, believing that what they sacrificed today would purchase prosperity tomorrow.
Solomon did not build these in a distant [music] province. He built them on the hill directly across the valley from the temple he had constructed for God. From the temple mount, you could look east [music] and see them. On certain evenings, when the wind came from the east, the smoke from those altars crossed [music] the Kiddran Valley and drifted into the courts of the temple.
The smell of Mole's fire mixing with [music] the smell of gods.
What few people know is this. The Mount of [music] Olives, the hill Solomon chose for his altars, is the same [music] mountain where something else would happen centuries later. A man would stand on that hill and look [music] west at the city below, the city Solomon built and Solomon broke, and he would weep. Not ceremonially, [music] not as a theological statement. He would weep the way a person weeps when they [music] see something they love that has been destroyed. And they know they are the only one who can fix it. And the fixing will cost them everything.
The hill that bore Solomon's altars to a god who demanded children would bear Christ's tears for the children those gods had consumed.
I will [music] not explain that further.
Some things should be held, not analyzed.
God had appeared to Solomon [music] twice. Twice in dreams. Twice in direct encounter. The first time at [music] Gibian with the offer and the gift. The second time with a warning so clear it could not be misunderstood. [music] If you turn away from me, if you go after other gods, I will cut Israel off from this land. and this temple I have consecrated.
I will make it a heap of ruins.
Solomon heard the warning. He acknowledged [music] it. He went home and kept building the high places. So now God does not come in a dream. God does not come with an offer or a warning. He comes with a verdict. Since this is your attitude and you have not kept my covenant and my decrees which I commanded you, I will most certainly tear the kingdom away from you and give it to one of your subordinates.
First Kings [music] 11:11 tear.
The Hebrews 11:11 [music] tear.
The Hebrew is kah. The same word used when cloth is ripped. When something whole is split by force, not a careful division, a violent rupture, the thing you cannot put back together after.
But then, and this is the moment where the character [music] of God becomes almost unbearable to look at directly.
Nevertheless, for the sake of David, your father, I will not do [music] it during your lifetime. I will tear it out of the hand of your son. Yet, I will not tear the whole kingdom [music] from him, but will give him one tribe.
>> What is my >> for the sake of David, my servant, and for the sake of Jerusalem, which I have chosen.
First Kings 11:12-13.
for the sake of David.
The judgment is real. The tearing will come. But the line, the messianic [music] line, the thread from David to the child who will one day stand on the Mount of Olives and weep, that line will not be cut. One tribe will survive. Not because Solomon earned mercy, because his father kept his heart clean. And God remembers.
Solomon is protected from [music] total destruction by a righteousness that is not his own. He is judged [music] entirely by the righteousness that is.
The peace ends in [music] 2 Samuel 7. When God made his covenant with David, he included a clause that must have seemed abstract [music] at the time. When your son strays, I will use the rod of men, human beings, human forces. The consequences will not be supernatural. They will be geopolitical, strategic, the ordinary machinery of a world in which power corrupts and patience runs out and old enemies never forget.
Now [music] God activates the rod. From the south, Hadad the Edomite, a survivor. As a child, he watched David's general, Joab, spend six months in Edom, killing every male the army [music] could find. He was smuggled out, carried by loyal servants across the desert to Egypt, raised in Pharaoh's court, given a royal wife, >> he had a good life, a safe life, everything a dispossessed prince [music] could want. The moment he heard Solomon was weakening, he packed his things [music] and walked back to Edom. Not for the throne, not for gold, for the specific patient satisfaction of watching the house of his enemy bleed.
From the north, Raison [music] of Damascus, a mercenary who seized the Syrian capital and spent [music] the rest of Solomon's reign methodically cutting off the northern trade routes.
Every caravan, [music] every merchant convoy, every shipment of goods that needed to travel through Syria was now a negotiation or a loss.
But the most dangerous adversary is the one from inside.
Jeroboam, son of Nabat, an Ephraimite, a man Solomon himself had promoted [music] because Solomon could recognize capability and ambition. And Jeroboam had both. He ran the labor force of the northern tribes. He saw what the building projects had [music] done to his people. Picture one of those people, a man from the tribe of Ephraim, hands split from [music] years of stone cutting, walking home through the terrace hills north of Jerusalem as the sun goes down. His son will inherit this [music] conscription. His son will carry these stones. He passes a high place on the hill above the road. Cedar beams, new construction, incense burning for [music] a Sidonian goddess he does not recognize.
And he stops. He [music] looks at it. He looks south toward the temple. He keeps walking. He does not say anything.
There is nothing to say. Jeroboam is walking through [music] an open field when the prophet Ahijah appears. Ahijah is wearing a new robe, clean, whole, unspoiled, [music] the way the kingdom of Israel was on the day Solomon was anointed. Ahijah takes [music] that robe and tears it. 12 pieces. He holds 10 out to Jeroboam.
Take 10 [music] pieces for yourself. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says.
>> Behold, I will tear the kingdom [music] out of the hand of Solomon and give you 10 tribes.
First Kings 11:31. [music] Word reaches the palace and in [music] Solomon's response, we see with terrible clarity who he has become. David when confronted by the [music] prophet Nathan about Ba Sheba said two words.
I have sinned.
He tore his clothes, fasted, lay on the ground for 7 days. Solomon [music] tries to kill Jeroboam. He dispatches men to find him. Assassins sent to eliminate a prophecy. He believed that his [music] power could override a divine decree, that he could execute his way out of a judgment God had already pronounced.
[music] This is what 40 years of unchecked power does to a mind that began with the humility to say, >> I accept this.
>> I am only a little child.
>> Grant me the strength.
>> It produces a man who thinks he can kill a prophecy.
Jeroboam flees to Egypt.
>> [music] >> He waits there in the country whose horses Solomon imported under the protection of the pharaoh whose daughter started the whole cascade. While the old king's reign [music] flickers and dims.
He is alone. It is late. The same kind of late as the beginning of this story.
The same low lamps. The same heavy silence.
But this is not a young man lying down at Gibian waiting for a divine offer.
This is an old man at a writing table surrounded by the figurines his wives left behind and he is trying [music] to account for his life. He sits for a long time before he writes anything.
Outside the palace, Jerusalem is still alive, still trading, still building the city he made into the center of the known world, carrying on as if the mind [music] behind it all were still the mind it used to be. He can hear the city. He can hear it not [music] caring.
That is its own kind of verdict.
He picks up the stylus. He writes one word. [snorts] Hebel.
He stops. He has just written the Hebrew word for [music] vapor, for mist. For the thing that exists for a moment and cannot be held. He has written it not as a theological position, but as a confession. The confession of a man who reached [music] for everything the world had to offer and found at the bottom of it this meaningless.
Meaningless utterly meaningless.
Everything is meaningless.
Ecclesiastes [music] 1:2.
Then he keeps writing. He describes the experiment [music] in terrible detail.
wisdom which brought grief, pleasure which was empty. The houses and the vineyards and the gardens and the silver [music] and the gold and the singers and the 700 women he called his own. The delights [music] of a man's heart, he writes, with a specific precision that tells you he is not [music] speaking abstractly.
I denied myself nothing my eyes desired.
I refused my heart no pleasure. My heart took delight in all my labor, and this was the reward for all my toil.
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done, and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless. A chasing after the wind, nothing [music] was gained under the sun. Ecclesiastes 2:10-11.
He had it all. He is reporting [music] from inside all of it. And the report is fog forward.
>> There is a kind of emptiness that only the person who got [music] everything they wanted can fully describe.
>> Solomon is that person. The only person in history who ran the complete experiment. [music] Wisdom, wealth, power, pleasure, legacy, and came back to tell you what it feels like from the inside. [music] >> It feels like this. You work harder. You build more. You accumulate more. You love more. [music] And the silence in the room at night does not get quieter.
It gets louder.
Because before you had hope. Hope that the next thing [music] would finally be the thing. Once you have had the next thing and the next thing after that and the silence is still there, you lose even the hope.
He writes about something else too.
something that haunts the practical mind of a builder. He does not know if his successor will be a wise man or a fool.
He does not know if everything he built will [music] be preserved or squandered.
He worked for it. He bled his people for it [music] and he will have to leave it to someone he cannot control.
I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun because I must leave them [music] to the one who comes after me.
And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish.
Ecclesiastes [music] 2:18-19.
The golden shields are already gone.
Pharaoh Shishak came in the fifth year of Rehaboam's [music] reign and took them.
>> His son had them replaced.
>> Bronze shields now hang [music] on the same hooks in the house of the forest of Lebanon. Bronze where gold was. the same shape, the same size, the same position [music] on the wall. But bronze does not catch the light the way gold does. It sits there flat, dull, looking almost like what it replaced in the way that almost is always [music] the saddest word.
A guard who served under Solomon sees them for the first time. He stands in the corridor [music] and looks at them for a long moment. He does not say anything. He keeps walking and Solomon at his writing table in the dark arrives at the end of the experiment.
At the conclusion of 40 years of data at the place where the [music] wisest mind in history after testing everything lands.
Fear God and [music] keep his commandments for this is the duty of all mankind.
Ecclesiastes [music] 12:13.
Not 666 talants of gold, not the temple, not the horses or the wives [music] or the wisdom or the empire.
Just this. The thing the shepherd boy [music] already knew. The thing his father David lived in the dirt and the wilderness and the blood of a thousand battles.
Fear God. Keep his commandments.
The wisest [music] man who ever lived paid 40 years and a kingdom to confirm what was already written in a book he had memorized as [music] a child.
He knew it then. He knows it now. The knowing was [music] never the problem.
Solomon is buried in the city of David.
His son Rahoboam inherits a kingdom that looks from the outside [music] like the culmination of everything.
What it is from the inside is a structure whose foundation cracked [music] 40 years ago in a corridor in a 2se secondond pause in a decision [music] that wore the face of a nondecision.
Rahoboam makes [music] it worse.
In one conversation about labor policy when the people beg for relief from the crushing conscription his father built the empire on. He chooses arrogance over mercy. and the 10 northern tribes walk away. The prophecy is fulfilled. The robe [music] tears. The golden shields are bronze. The kingdom is two. The wisest man's legacy is a warning. And yet, one tribe remains, Judah. Preserved not by Solomon's [music] faithfulness, but by his fathers. The messianic line, the thin, unbroken thread from David through the centuries to a stable in Bethlehem, survives the wreckage. Not because Solomon [music] deserved it, because God made a promise. And God keeps his promises even when the people he made them through do not. The temple Solomon built would be destroyed.
[music] The empire would dissolve into two kingdoms and then into exile. But the promise [music] at the temple's heart that God would one day dwell permanently with his people, that promise would walk through Jerusalem in sandals one [music] spring morning and weep on a hill east of the city, the same hill.
There is something about God that [music] is worth sitting with here. He does not abandon the places we break. He comes back to them. He stands in them.
He weeps in them and then he redeems them.
Solomon's story is not primarily [music] a story about wealth or women or power or wisdom. It is a story about the specific danger of believing [music] that your understanding of a truth exempts you from living it. He wrote, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
He wrote it and then he leaned on his own [music] understanding for 40 years.
The distance between [music] knowing the truth and living the truth is not a distance of intellect. It is a distance of surrender and surrender. The daily unglamorous [music] unremarkable choice to be obedient when you are powerful enough not to be. That is the one thing his extraordinary wisdom [music] could never manufacture.
You cannot think your way into it. You cannot build your way to it. You cannot accumulate enough of anything to produce it. It is either chosen every day in the ordinary [music] corridors of an ordinary life or it is not. Solomon chose [music] in the corridor. we choose in ours. The question is not whether we are wise enough to see what [music] we're walking past. The question is whether we will stop.
If this story [music] opened something in you, share it with someone who needs to hear that the wisest man in history struggled with exactly what you struggle with. Like the video if Solomon hit differently than you expected. Subscribe to go deeper into the lives of the people who carried God's story with all their brilliance and all their failures.
And leave a comment where in your own life have you seen yourself walking past the open door? [music]
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