I Knew Better

Genesis 3:1-13

INTRODUCTION

Most of us do not wake up in the morning and say, “Today feels like a great day to make a dumb decision.” In most of our decisions, we think we are being practical. We are being honest with ourselves. We are protecting our peace. We are following our heart. Then, somewhere between confidence and convenience, we make a choice that looks smart in the moment and feels foolish in the end.

That is why we are starting this series called Wis Dumb, wising up from dumb decisions. This is not a series for people who have never messed up. This is a series for real people who have enough life behind them to admit, “I knew better,” and enough humility in them to ask, “How do I choose better next time?”

Here is the truth: experience is a powerful teacher, but it is also an expensive one. Some lessons cost you money. Some costs you relationships. Some cost you peace. Some costs you years. If you are not careful, you can pay full price for the same lesson more than once. That is a brutal feeling, the moment you realize you are back in a situation you promised yourself you would never repeat. New season, same pattern. New name, same drama. New job, same attitude. New year, same day. That is when you say, “How did I end up here again?” Often the answer is, “I did what I always do, I trusted my instincts and feelings more than I trusted God.”

We all have those moments. You sent the text you should have deleted. Buying things you can't afford just because they're on sale, which is the adult version of eating the whole cake just because it's baked. You stayed quiet when you should have spoken up, or you spoke up when silence was the wise move. You said yes too fast, no too late, and “It will be fine” with zero evidence. You have probably believed, at least once, that you were the exception to the rule. That other people might struggle with this, but you have it under control. That is not confidence; that is how dumb decisions introduce themselves.

The good news is that God does not waste our mistakes. He redeems them. He teaches through them. He exposes what is broken in us so He can heal it. Over the next six weeks, we are going to look at people in Scripture who made decisions that seemed right at the time but led to painful consequences. Not so we can point fingers at them, but so we can recognize ourselves. The Bible is a mirror for real sinners and a megaphone for a faithful God. These stories are warnings with mercy, grace, and truth that love you enough to confront you.

If you have ever thought, “I have already done too much damage,” you need to hear this: your worst decision does not get the final word. God does. Wisdom is not reserved for people with perfect track records. Wisdom is offered to people who are ready to listen and change direction.

Let us start wising up together with I Knew better.

Genesis 3:1–13 ESV

Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?” And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.’ ” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths. And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” And he said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.” He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

SCRIPTURAL ANALYSIS

VERSES 1-5

The scene opens with a character you do not expect in a holy place: “the serpent.” In the world of Genesis, the garden is not a random backyard. It is a sacred space, a place where God’s presence and God’s provision meet. So the serpent’s presence immediately feels like an intrusion.

The text calls the serpent “crafty.” Craftiness, as in the shrewdness seen in a clever merchant or a skilled negotiator. That is what makes the temptation so dangerous. This is not a pitch that sounds obviously stupid. It sounds sophisticated.

Then comes a question that is not really a question. “Did God actually say…?” This is strategy. The serpent does not start by denying God’s existence. He begins by reframing God’s word.

Eve answers like someone who knows what God said, because she does. But listen closely to how the command is repeated. This is where the story shows you how temptation often works. God’s word is still present, but it is starting to get fuzzy around the edges. Eve adds, “Neither shall you touch it,” which God did not say in Genesis 2. That detail matters because it hints at a common dynamic in spiritual drift: when people feel pressure, they either soften God’s word or add to it. Either way, the heart is already moving away from simply trusting God.

The serpent is trying to smuggle in suspicion, unpredictability, and stinginess into their lives. Then the serpent stops implying and starts contradicting. “You will not surely die.” This is open defiance. The serpent is offering a new authority. He is inviting them to treat their own judgment as they would God’s. The serpent is not tempting Eve with ugliness; he is tempting her with status: you can be like God. You can decide what is good and what is evil for yourself. This is where the story becomes painfully familiar. The temptation is not merely to break a rule. It is to take God’s place.

VERSES 6-7

The verse reads like a slow-motion replay of a bad decision. Eve “saw” that the tree was good for food, a delight to the eyes, and desirable to make one wise. The problem is not desire. The problem is desire intentionally detached from God.

It is easy to picture Eve as uninformed or naive. However, the text will not allow that. She evaluates, she reasons, she chooses. Adam is there, and he eats too. The tragedy is not ignorance. It is autonomy. They decided that their assessment of the moment mattered more than God’s word.

Immediately, “their eyes were opened,” but not in the way the serpent promised. Now they carry vulnerability, shame, and powerlessness. Genesis 2 ended with nakedness and no shame, which is a picture of complete safety, complete acceptance, nothing to hide. Now everything is different.

VERSES 8-11

This verse is heartbreaking when read slowly. They hear “the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” The picture is personal and relational. God is not shown as distant. God is present with His people.

Now, instead of running toward Him, they hide. Sin turns fellowship into fear. The God who used to be the safest presence becomes, in their minds, the most threatening one. “Where are you?” God asks. This is not God gathering information. This is God drawing them out. God is not hunting them to crush them. He is calling them to step into the light.

Adam answers with a sentence that captures the birth of shame: “I heard… I was afraid… because I was naked… and I hid.” Fear enters the human vocabulary. Not because God changed, but because Adam did. Notice how quickly Adam frames the problem as exposure, not disobedience. That is what shame does. It moves the conversation from what you did to what you are. God presses with two questions that cut through the cover-up. “Who told you…?” and “Have you eaten…?” God is exposing the real issue: something has redefined you, and it did not come from Him.

VERSES 12-13

Now comes the oldest response in human history: blame shifting. Adam says, “The woman you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit.” He is not only blaming Eve. He is reaching past her to God. “The woman you gave me.” In other words, “This is not on me. This is on her, and definitely on you.”

God turns to Eve, and again the question is an invitation: “What is this that you have done?” Eve answers, “The serpent deceived me.” She admits an element of deception, but she also passes responsibility to the serpent. The pattern continues: the human heart will do almost anything except own its choice. Adam and Eve are caught, exposed, and still reaching for excuses instead of repentance.

If you want the core insight of these verses in one sentence, it is this: the fall begins when God’s clear word becomes something you negotiate around, especially when your feelings are persuasive.

TODAY’S KEY TRUTH

Wisdom begins with obedience, not negotiating God’s word around your feelings.

APPLICATION

Genesis 3 does not read like a horror movie where clueless people stumble into danger. It reads like a conversation you and I have had in our own heads. The serpent opens with a question that sounds reasonable: “Did God really say…?” He does not arrive waving a red flag. He shows up like a friendly editor, offering to adjust the wording, soften the edges, and make God’s command feel more workable. Eve responds because she knows what God said. Adam is there, listening. The decision point is not a lack of information; it is a shift in authority.

Then the serpent moves from questions to confidence. “You will not surely die.” In other words, “God is exaggerating.” That is the moment temptation stops being a suggestion and becomes a sales pitch. It offers a better story than obedience: you will gain, you will grow, you will finally be wise on your own terms. Eve looks, evaluates, and reaches. Adam follows. Immediately, the promise delivers a different product from what was advertised. Their eyes open, and what they see is not enlightenment; it is exposure. Shame rushes in. They start sewing fig leaves like spiritual amateurs in a panic. Then God comes walking in the garden, and the people who used to enjoy His presence now hide from Him. When God calls, “Where are you?” Adam answers with fear. Then comes the blame, her fault, the serpent’s fault, even God’s fault.

That is the pattern. Disobedience almost always starts with negotiation. It is not usually rebellion with a clenched fist. It is a quiet reshaping of God’s word around what feels urgent, logical, and emotionally satisfying in the moment.

So here is the first wise move for this series: stop acting like God’s clear word is a starting point for discussion. Treat it like a foundation. The question is not, “How do I feel about what God said?” The question is, “What did God say, and am I willing to trust Him more than the emotional weather inside me today?” Feelings are real, and feelings are loud. Feelings also make terrible gods. They change hourly, and they always vote for what is easiest right now.

This shows up everywhere. We negotiate with God when pressure rises. We feel anxious, so we try to control people rather than serve them. We feel tired, so we cut ethical corners to save time. We feel lonely, so we invite the wrong voice close because attention feels like comfort. None of that feels like a “big sin” in the moment. It feels like survival. It feels necessary. It feels justified. Then it produces fig leaves of hiding, shame, and blame.

If you want to locate your own Genesis 3, listen for phrases like these: “God understands,” “This is different,” “I deserve this,” “It is not that serious,” “I can fix it later,” “No one will know,” or “God and I have a special understanding.” Those are negotiation phrases. They are the moment you start treating God’s word like a document you can revise with emotional edits.

Here is a practical way forward.

First, name what God has clearly said. Not what you wish He said. Not what you hope He meant. Get specific. If Scripture calls it sin, call it sin. If Scripture calls you to forgive, call it forgiveness. If Scripture calls you to honesty, call it honesty. Clarity is not cruelty. Clarity is kindness.

Second, name what you feel without letting it rule. Say it plainly: “I feel angry.” “I feel afraid.” “I feel lonely.” “I feel embarrassed.” Then refuse to let that feeling write the policy for your life. Your emotions can be passengers; they are not the driver.

Third, act in obedience while the temptation is still a conversation. The longer you negotiate, the more convincing disobedience sounds. Obedience is rarely mysterious; it’s usually immediate. Make the call you have been avoiding. Delete the app you keep hiding. Confess the secret you keep managing. Set the boundary you keep delaying. Tell the truth you keep decorating.

The fig leaves were an attempt to cover sin without confessing it. We try to cover sin without confessing it: staying busy to avoid dealing with it, making spiritual-sounding excuses, blaming your past, your stress, your spouse, or your schedule. Covering sin never heals. Confession does. Repentance does. Bring it into the light.

Now, do not miss the heart of God in this passage. God came looking. “Where are you?” is grace. God is not asking for directions. He is inviting you out of hiding. The gospel is that God does not leave us trapped in our dumb decisions. He confronts, He calls, He covers, and He redeems. Genesis 3 is the beginning of humanity running, and the beginning of God pursuing.

Wisdom begins with obedience, not negotiating God’s word around your feelings.

CONCLUSION

Some of the most honest words a person can say are “I Knew Better.” Not “I did not know,” not “I was blindsided,” not “I had no choice.” I knew. If we are telling the truth, most of our biggest regrets did not happen because we lacked information. They happened because we negotiated with what God had already made clear. We let the moment get loud, and we let our feelings take the microphone.

It’s sort of like the moment the alarm goes off at 5:00 AM for the gym. You made a decision the night before to go to the gym, but in the morning, your body and your feelings start negotiating. "I need rest more than exercise today." It sounds logical, but it's actually compromise and surrender.

So here is the personal challenge. Identify one place where you have been negotiating God’s word around your feelings. One place where you have said, “I know what God said,” and then kept moving anyway. Bring that into the open with the Lord this week. Wisdom begins there, with obedience, with humility, with coming out from behind the fig leaves and trusting God’s word more than the moment.

Wisdom begins with obedience, not negotiating God’s word around your feelings.

So if you are sitting here thinking, “I have made some dumb decisions,” you are not disqualified, nor are you alone. The goal is not to wallow in shame. The goal is to wise up. Shame keeps you hidden behind fig leaves. Wisdom steps into the light and says, “Lord, I am here, and I am done negotiating.”

Genesis 3 shows us how quickly a clear word from God can turn into a conversation, then into a compromise, then into consequences. It also shows us something else: when we run, God still comes looking. He walks into the mess, calls out, “Where are you?” and invites us out of hiding. That is not a God who is eager to crush you. That is a Father who refuses to lose you.

God can redeem what you regret. He can restore what you have fractured. He can rebuild what you thought was permanently broken. But you have to stop giving your feelings veto power over His voice. Feelings can inform you, but they cannot lead you. They make great indicators, and terrible authorities.

Adam negotiated comfort and lost paradise. Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, felt the ultimate pressure but refused to negotiate. He said, 'Not my will, but yours be done.' Because He obeyed, we are accepted.

Take your first wise step today. Drop the excuses you have been carrying like a shield: the pressure, the past, the personality, the “this is just how I am.” Stop negotiating with what God has already made clear. Stop trimming Scripture down until it fits your mood, your appetite, or your fear. Choose obedience, even if it feels costly or even if your feelings argue back. Obedience is not the end of your joy; it is the beginning of it. It is where wisdom takes root, where peace stops being a mood and becomes a foundation, where freedom begins to replace fear. Trust God’s word more than your moment. Let wisdom, and the freedom that follows it, begin today.

Wisdom begins with obedience, not negotiating God’s word around your feelings.