Day 131 · Monday, May 11
"Honor your father and mother (this is the first commandment with a promise), that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land."EPHESIANS 6:2-3
The official voice messages are being prepared. Test recordings have been removed so only approved Scripture audio will be published.
Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 131, Honor with a Promise.
Ephesians 6, verses 2 and 3. Let this land:
"Honor your father and mother — this is the first commandment with a promise — that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land."
The first with a promise. Paul could have moved right past it. But he stops. He points to something we tend to overlook: of all the commandments God gave, this is the first one that arrives carrying a promise inside it. Not just a command. A command with a future sewn into it.
And that already tells us something deep about how God sees the home. He didn't tuck honor inside the family as a minor domestic detail. He placed it like a doorway. Like a foundation. What happens in that relationship — between children and parents — God tied directly to what unfolds in your life beyond those walls.
Now I need to say something carefully, and with love: the commandment does not say honor perfect parents. It doesn't say that anywhere. And that matters — because some of you are carrying a hard story with your father, with your mother. There were mistakes. There was absence. There was real pain. And this commandment doesn't pretend otherwise. But it calls you to something larger than the wound: it calls you to treat with dignity even those who failed — without denying the truth, without pretending everything was fine, but also without feeding bitterness as if it were your most faithful companion. Honor is not blindness. Honor is a choice.
And that choice looks different depending on where you are in life. At seven, honor looks like obedience — showing up, not talking back. But at forty? Honor looks different. It looks like calling when you're tired. Like visiting when it's inconvenient. Like sitting down to hear a story you've already heard a dozen times — and listening again, because the person telling it needs to know they still matter. The commandment didn't expire when you grew up. It grew up with you.
And the promise? "That it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land." Don't read that as a magic formula. It isn't one. It's wisdom. It's God's observation about how life actually works. Homes where honor lives produce people with roots. Children who learn to honor learn to live with steadiness. And that blessing — that way of living — crosses generations. It doesn't stop with one person.
Speaking of generations: your children are watching. Right now. How you talk about your father. How you treat your mother when she calls and you're already exhausted. How you respond in the hard moments. They are learning from you. Honor isn't taught in speeches — it's modeled in life. It's an inheritance you pass down without ever writing it in a will.
So here is the call. Before breakfast today — before, not after — send a message to your father or your mother. It doesn't have to be long. It doesn't have to be eloquent. It just has to be real. A word of gratitude. A good memory. An "I love you" that has been waiting to be said out loud. If they're already gone, do it with God — speak it aloud, thank Him for one good thing they gave you. Let the gratitude come out of your mouth. It needs to be expressed.
You will not regret having honored them. But you may regret not having done it while there was still time.
Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.