Matthew 13:24-25 Another parable He put forth to them, saying: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat and went his way.
With so much disinformation and so many voices speaking into our lives, people often ask for my thoughts on who to trust and what to believe. In light of that, I believe it’s time to step into a deeper kind of discernment — becoming what I would call a fruit inspector. This series is born out of that burden: to learn how to recognize the difference between the wheat and the tares.
Yeshua (Jesus), when asked about the events leading up to His return, did not begin with wars, disasters, or global upheaval. His first warning was simple and direct: “Take heed that no man deceive you.” That alone tells us something profound. The greatest danger in the last days is not just what is happening around us — it is the deception that can grow among us. Yet Yeshua did not leave us vulnerable. He gave us a clear way to see through deception: by inspecting fruit. When we learn to recognize fruit, we gain the ability to discern the times with clarity and confidence. That is the foundation we begin with.
Yeshua introduces the parable with a striking image: a man sowing good seed into his field. Everything begins as it should — intentional, pure, and full of promise. But then, under the cover of night, while men slept, an enemy comes and sows tares among the wheat. The field is not abandoned; it is infiltrated. The issue is not the absence of good seed, but the presence of a second, corrupt seed planted alongside it.
In the natural world, the plant Yeshua refers to as a tare is widely believed to be darnel, sometimes called poison wheat. What makes this plant so dangerous is not just its toxicity, but its resemblance. In its early stages, darnel looks almost identical to wheat. The leaves are similar, the growth pattern mirrors it, and to the untrained eye, there is no clear distinction. Ancient farmers understood this well. In fact, sowing darnel into another man’s field was considered such a destructive act that it was addressed in Roman law. The enemy did not need to destroy the field outright — he only needed to corrupt it from within.
This is the heart of what Yeshua is revealing. Both seeds grow in the same soil. Both are exposed to the same conditions. Both develop side by side. Yet their origin is entirely different. Later, Yeshua makes it clear: the wheat represents the children of the Kingdom, while the tares represent the children of the wicked one. This is not merely a parable about agriculture — it is a revelation of two spiritual realities unfolding simultaneously in the earth.
This truth carries weight, especially in the hour we are living in. Not everything growing in God’s field came from God’s seed. Not every voice that sounds right is rooted in truth. Not everything that appears genuine carries life within it. There is a parallel growth happening—truth and deception, light and darkness — maturing together until the time of harvest.
This is why discernment cannot be superficial. In the early stages, wheat and tares cannot be distinguished by appearance alone. You cannot rely on charisma, gifting, influence, or presentation. These things can be mimicked. The only reliable measure is fruit. Wheat will eventually produce life-giving grain, while the tare will reveal its nature in what it produces.
So we come back to the words of Yeshua: “Take heed that no man deceive you.” This is not a call to fear — it is a call to awareness. It is an invitation to move beyond surface-level perception and into Spirit-led discernment. The Lord is not asking His people to be suspicious of everything, but to be discerning in everything.
Beloved, this is the hour to awaken. The field is full, and the voices are many, but God has given His people the ability to see clearly. The Spirit of Truth is present, and the fruit is visible to those who will look. This is the time to sharpen your discernment, to test what you hear, and to refuse to be moved by appearance alone. Do not be swayed by influence or drawn in by what merely resembles truth. Look deeper. Look for the fruit. Because those who learn to discern between the wheat and the tares will not be shaken in the days ahead. They will stand with clarity, walk in truth, and be ready for the harvest that is coming.
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Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.
King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.