A man who looks at a stream and sees only water will never kneel long enough to find gold in its bed. The same Bible that raises the dead in one hand becomes a storybook to another. A child who sees her mother as an ordinary cook will forever eat but never inherit the recipe. The value you place on a thing, a person, or a principle determines the value you can extract from it. Not because that thing lacks worth, but because your eyes are dim and your posture poor. Even heaven waits for your valuation before its vaults respond. It is written, “Cast not your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet and turn again and rend you.” (Matthew 7:6). God is not wasteful with wonders.
Nigeria is filled with structures, systems, and sages we refuse to honour—therefore, we see no miracles, only mechanisms. We treat sacred spaces like social theatres and wonder why angels do not linger. We attend churches for noise, not presence; we sit under men of God but honour them like politicians; we carry Bibles but extract no wisdom because our familiarity has bred blindness. Prophet TB Joshua once thundered, “The anointing you don’t respect will never profit you.” We are a generation drawing from shallow wells not because the wells are dry, but because we have lost the honour of digging deep.
When a people belittle their teachers, knowledge becomes expensive and inaccessible. When a community treats elders as fossils, they lose the archives of generational survival. The Igala say, “The ear that refuses to hear the drumbeat of the masquerade will soon feel the sting of its cane.” Honour is not flattery—it is revelation. That you know a thing doesn’t mean you have mastered its essence. That you walk into a room doesn’t mean you have discerned the treasures in it. Until your heart bows, your hands remain empty. Even God said, “He that cometh to Him must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” (Hebrews 11:6). Heaven demands posture.
The tragedy is not scarcity; the tragedy is dishonour. We walk past treasures daily, labeling them as common. Marriages suffer because spouses no longer see each other as answers to prayer. Schools deteriorate because teachers are treated like failed professionals. Prophets are mocked until they go silent, and when disaster strikes, we run to the altars we have desecrated. Jesus, the Son of God, could do no mighty works in His hometown—not because He lacked power, but because the people lacked perception. They said, “Is this not the carpenter’s son?” Their eyes saw flesh; their spirits saw nothing. Value misplacement breeds stagnation.
Revival tarried in some churches because the members shouted Amen louder than they obeyed the word. Bishop David Oyedepo once declared, “You cannot place small value on spiritual things and expect big results.” A man can sit under grace for decades and grow nothing but grey hairs. You can sing in the choir for years and never touch the hem of the garment. Why? Because your heart was there for music, not ministry. The Kingdom does not reward attendance—it rewards alignment. Even demons discern value more than some believers. The sons of Sceva called Jesus without reverence and were wounded. The Spirit realm respects rank and recognition.
In leadership, the electorate often draws only as much as they value governance. When thrones are auctioned to the highest bidder and not to the highest virtue, we reap noise, not justice. We have leaders today who sit on golden chairs but carry wooden minds because we placed no weight on vision during elections. A wise electorate must understand that thrones respond to valuation. If you vote cheap, you reap cost. Democracy is not magic—it mirrors the collective appetite of the people.
Value is magnetic. What you honour, you attract. What you despise, you repel. Ask Solomon—he honoured wisdom and received both wealth and peace. Ask Gehazi—he dishonoured prophetic purity for gold and inherited leprosy. Ask the woman with the alabaster box—she poured perfume on the feet of Jesus and gained an eternal memorial. You do not receive from what you ridicule. You can only draw from a well you trust. Dr. Paul Enenche said, “Your spiritual depth determines your life’s height.” What you mine reveals what you see beneath the surface.
The Holy Bible remains the most persecuted and misunderstood book in the world. Some read it to argue, others read it to transform. The difference is value. A farmer who undervalues his land will never wait through the dry season. But he who sees fruit in the future endures present pruning. In this life, nothing responds to you beyond your revelation of it. Gifts don’t grow in dishonour. Oil doesn’t flow in pride. Greatness doesn’t rise in familiarity. Even the widow in Zarephath had to value Elijah’s request before her oil multiplied. You must see worth before you can draw wealth.
So, dear generation, pause and reflect. Is it the church that’s failing, or is it our reverence for sacred things that is collapsing? Is it that prophets are no longer sent, or that our ears have been trained to ignore divine instruction? Is your spouse truly the problem, or have you ceased to see their soul? Is your nation really hopeless, or have your eyes been hijacked by cynicism? Every withdrawal requires a deposit—and honour is the currency.
In all your pursuits, pray this: “Lord, open my eyes to see value where I have seen routine. Teach me to draw from wells I have walked past. Grant me grace to kneel before what I once ignored.” Because in this kingdom, value is not about gold—it is about glory. And glory doesn’t manifest until honour is given. For what you see determines what you seek, and what you seek determines what you seize.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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