Of Imperishable Seed: a Remedy to the Enemy’s Lies

by Danielle M. Antonetti

Like many little girls, I was a tomboy and thought that was better than the alternative, whatever that was. In fact, one of my favorite things about listening to my dad’s stories about me as a kid is that all the neighborhood boys were scared to play street hockey with his little girl. I bet he would say they still are. I relished their fear then and probably would today.

In the intervening years, I traded the hockey stick for shame, a losing trade for me and a winning one for the Enemy.

The Merriam-Webster definition of shame states that it is “a feeling of guilt, regret, or sadness that [a person has] because [she knows she has] done something wrong.” That would suggest that if the person were able to remedy the wrong, the shame would fall away. Yet it lingers. My pastor often speaks of shame, and he defines it as the belief that we are wrong. Now I see why the feeling lingers. If I am wrong, then there is nothing I can do to be right. That is a lie.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. As a child, I used to say this to myself when other children would tease me; they would say it back to me when I teased them. As I grew older, the names started to hurt and the sticks and stones were never thrown hard enough to break a bone.

Yet before I ever recognized a word’s power to kill, steal, and destroy, I was dead, alone, and weak. I had listened to other people’s words until they became my own words about myself. I repeated them often. This version of Danielle is foreign to me now, despite our having spent so many years together. Occasionally, she returns and I meet with her for nostalgia’s sake; then I remember nostalgia is a master of disguise.

The Word is “God-breathed,” as Paul says in 2 Timothy 3:16, and as such disguises nothing. Nostalgia’s cry for attention, on the other hand, wrapped in distorted recollections and the specious appearance of solace, dissipates—usually very quickly—when challenged.

The reverse holds true for Christianity and my faith. Those moments when they are questioned, whether from internal or external doubts and dares, never seem quite as destabilizing as the Enemy’s words because the case for Christ and for my faith in Him is found in “the power of the apologetic embedded in the message [of the Gospel] itself. That is, that ‘God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself.’”[1]

Very simply, God’s love solves the fundamental desire of every human heart: to be loved perfectly because, despite our best efforts to love unconditionally and be loved unconditionally, only “His love, forgiveness, and willingness to be Lord of our lives”[2] remedies the harm of the Enemy’s lies.

So when nostalgia comes beckoning, I remind myself that I am a blood-bought child of the King and open His Word—tried, tested, true, and eternal:

“For [I] have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God.”

[1] Jerry Root, “What Are Christians Apologetics, and How Do They Relate to the Gospel Anyways,” The Exchange (blog), Christianity Today, June 14, 2018,

[2] Ibid.

Disclaimer: All views expressed by those associated with this ministry or on our platforms do not necessarily represent the opinions of Women in Apologetics, Inc. or its individual team members.

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