Genesis 2:16-17:
“And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, ‘Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.‘”
Genesis 3:6:
“So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.”
God gave us an entire garden. “Of every tree you may freely eat.” Abundance. Freedom. Real choice.
One tree withheld. Not because God is stingy. But because God sets boundaries.
And we crossed that line. We took what wasn’t given.
That’s what trespass means.
Trans — across. Gradi — to step.
You stepped over the boundary.
The human appetite turns destructive the moment it bleeds past what God gives.
Not because desire is bad. But because desire without boundary becomes parasitic. It consumes at the expense of the host.
Psalm 42 says, “As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after You.”
The deer isn’t trespassing. It’s thirsty for what it was made to drink.
We — since Eden — pant for the thing God told us not to eat.
That’s where the rot starts.
When we’re spiritually starving, we feel the ache. We know something’s missing.
But instead of naming it honestly — “I’m thirsty for God” — we grab whatever’s closest.
We want intimacy, so we reach for sex or validation or someone who makes us feel seen. We want rest, so we reach for approval or achievement or the next thing that might finally make us feel okay. We want connection, so we reach for noise — music, screens, people, anything to not sit with the silence.
And none of it works.
Because what we’re actually thirsting for is the unseen — what we were made for but haven’t touched yet.
When your soul is starving, your flesh goes hunting.
And it doesn’t heal you.
It eats you.
That’s where the seed has to go. Into the void we created.
Because restraint reveals what you’ve actually been consuming all along.