— A Scroll for the Ones Still Inside —
It started with two sisters.
One had love but no children.
The other had children but no love.
Rachel was beautiful. Desired. Chosen.
Jacob worked fourteen years for her—twice the price of custom.
She had his affection, his eyes, his longing.
And yet—she envied.
“Give me children, or I shall die.”
— Genesis 30:1
She had what Leah dreamed of… but she couldn’t see it.
Because envy clouds vision. It makes blessings feel like burdens when someone else has more.
Rachel finally received a son—but when she named him Joseph,
she didn’t say, “Thank You.”
She said, “Add to me another.”
“And she called his name Joseph, saying,
‘May the Lord add to me another son.’”
— Genesis 30:24
Even in gain, her heart was still reaching.
Still competing.
Still aching for something more.
And here’s what most miss:
The very thing Rachel begged for—killed her.
God did add another son.
But it cost her everything.
“And as her soul was departing (for she was dying),
she called his name Ben-Oni…”
— Genesis 35:18
If she had just paused in gratitude—if Joseph had been enough—
she may have lived.
She may have seen her sons grow.
She may have known rest.
But envy doesn’t pause.
It keeps pressing.
And sometimes, God gives you what you insist on—
not as a reward, but as a mirror.
To show you where your striving ends.
Rachel’s death is a warning:
Be careful when your prayers are fueled by comparison.
The “more” you’re chasing might be the last thing you see.
And there’s something deeper still—hidden in what she named her sons.
Rachel’s first son, Joseph, was not named from gratitude but from striving.
She didn’t praise.
She didn’t say, “The Lord has heard me.”
She said, “Give me more.”
That’s not thanksgiving.
That’s craving.
And more specifically—biblical selfishness.
The Bible defines selfishness as desiring from the center of self, rather than surrender to God’s will.
“Where selfish ambition exists, there will be disorder…”
— James 3:16
Rachel wasn’t evil—she was unfinished.
She was driven by envy, yes—but also by a restless, inner self-focus that wanted to win.
And Joseph’s life? It bore the marks of that name:
- Betrayed by his brothers
- Thrown into a pit
- Sold into slavery
- Forgotten in prison
Yes, God redeemed it.
Yes, Joseph became the savior of nations.
But not without years of affliction.
Not without carrying the weight of a name born of ambition, not adoration.
Then came Benjamin.
“And as her soul was departing… she called his name Ben-Oni.”
— Genesis 35:18
Ben-Oni means son of my sorrow, son of my affliction.
It was a name soaked in death.
Rachel, whether intentionally or not, centered her own experience over the child’s identity.
Not to curse him—she wasn’t malicious.
But the name reflected a soul that hadn’t yet stepped outside of itself, even at the end.
But Jacob stepped in.
And he renamed the boy:
“But his father called him Benjamin.”
— Genesis 35:18
Benjamin — Son of My Right Hand.
Not sorrow.
Not guilt.
But favor.
Strength.
Authority.
Because that’s what God does.
We name things in sorrow—
He renames them in promise.
We speak from our wounds—
He speaks from His wisdom.
So what really kills the soul?
Not pain. Not lack. Not failure.
It’s what Rachel felt even while being loved.
It’s what Leah overcame even while being rejected.
It’s the quiet rot that grows inside when we’re not looking:
1. Envy — the quiet killer. It doesn’t scream—it whispers while watching others succeed. It turns blessings into burdens, because someone else has more. Cain fell to it. Rachel lived in it. Even the Pharisees crucified Christ out of it (Matthew 27:18).
2. Jealousy — envy’s twin, but more possessive. It wants what it fears to lose. Saul watched David rise and said, “What more can he have but the kingdom?” (1 Samuel 18:8). Jealousy makes allies into threats and turns love into war.
3. Desire (Covetousness) — always reaching, never full. It’s the craving behind every broken vow, ruined home, and corrupted leader.
“Desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin…”
— James 1:15
4. Pride — the original sin. The serpent’s favorite flavor. It refuses correction, inflates the ego, and demands to be seen.
5. Bitterness — the soul’s infection after pain is left untreated. It turns wounds into weapons.
“See to it… that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble…”
— Hebrews 12:15
6. Fear of Man — subtle, but suffocating. It’s why Saul spared the Amalekite king. Why Peter denied Jesus.
7. Lust — not just sexual. It’s hunger unhinged. It demands satisfaction without surrender.
8. Unforgiveness — the locked door that keeps the enemy inside.
“If you do not forgive… your Father will not forgive you.”
— Matthew 6:15
9. Selfishness — not just loving yourself, but living from yourself.
Biblical selfishness is when your desires, pain, or plans become the center of your decisions.
Rachel’s naming of Joseph and Ben-Oni reflected this:
Loved—but not at rest.
Blessed—but still reaching.
And here’s the part most don’t see:
We’re not just wounded. We’re not just stuck. We’re the ones who locked the door—from the inside.
Jesus said:
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”
— Revelation 3:20
We assume the knock is for someone else.
The betrayer.
The bitter one.
The one who hurt us.
But the knock is closer than that.
It’s personal.
It’s patient.
And it’s waiting for us to open the door we didn’t realize we built.
When the Door Finally Opens
It doesn’t open with noise.
It opens with surrender.
Not because we figured it all out—
but because we finally stopped defending it.
And what we find?
Not judgment.
Not shame.
Not a list of all the years we wasted.
We find Him.
Still standing.
Still knocking.
Still ready to dine with us.
“If anyone hears My voice and opens the door,
I will come in and eat with him, and he with Me.”
— Revelation 3:20
And One More Thing Before the Door Closes
Rachel may have had Jacob’s heart…
But Leah carried the King.
“This time I will praise the LORD.”
— Genesis 29:35
From Leah came Judah.
From Judah came David.
And from David… came Christ.
“Judah the father of Perez… to David…
and Joseph, the husband of Mary,
of whom Jesus was born.”
— Matthew 1:3–16
The Lion of Judah came through the woman no one wanted.
So if you’ve ever felt like Leah—
forgotten, unwanted, second-best…
Take heart.
He’s knocking.
Not with condemnation—
But with a whisper that says:
Let Me in.
I’ve always seen you.
Arete Gune: The Name on the White Stone 
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