The pastor was talking passionately about God, about the Bible, about the right understanding and then he mentioned Eisegesis and Exegesis – how one bends Scripture to fit personal desires while the other lets Scripture speak for itself.

I smiled a little. I sank a little. I held my breath.

Not because I knew the term, but because I recognized the behavior.

I had been doing it for a while.

I never knew the word but I knew the weight of it. I had lived it.

There was a time when I read the Bible with an agenda. Not intentionally, really. And I hadn’t done it out of arrogance or deception. I had done it out of fear, out of a deep and aching need for control, for reassurance, for something that would soothe my fears and validate me and my desires.

I was riddled with doubt though I rarely admitted it. My prayers were laced with anxiety, my faith tied to outcomes. I thought I trusted God, but in reality, I was just blind, confused, afraid, ready to cling on to anything that promised the peace I was searching for. I read the Bible not to be transformed but to be reassured. Not to surrender but to fortify my own plans.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had been reading Scripture with a filter – one that made everything about me.

And when the pastor mentioned and explained Eisegesis everything came back to me.

How I overlaid my personal desires onto Scripture, shaping its meaning to match what I wanted to hear. How there were moments when I convinced myself that my interpretation is “God speaking” when, in reality, I was just hearing my own voice echoed back at me.

I didn’t realize I was doing it. I thought I was “standing on God’s promises.” But what I was actually doing was clinging to verses out of context, using them as self-empowerment mantras rather than life-changing truth.

How Fear and Desire Shape False Interpretations

It might be easy to recognize Eisegesis when someone else does it. I now see it, because I’ve done it and that made it somewhat easy to spot it. But when we’re in it, when we’re caught in our own emotional storms, we don’t realize how much our fears and unhealed wounds shape the way we see Scripture and everything else, for that matter.

For me, it started subtly.

I was tired, I felt stuck, I was lost in too many questions and very little answers. I wanted certainty – not just that God was with me, but the certainty that He would come through in the way I wanted, on the timeline I needed.

And so, I latched onto verses like Philippians 4:13—”I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This verse is one of the most quoted in the Bible and is often used as a personal motivation for success in sports, business, or achieving great things. You’ve probably seen it. I’ve seen it. Maybe you’ve used it. I know I did.

I took it as a guarantee:

I will overcome every obstacle.
I will win because God is with me.
I will achieve my dreams because I have divine strength behind me.

At the time, I made it mean I would get the opportunities I wanted, and I would see things work out the way I envisioned. Failure wasn’t an option. Obstacles were just a test of how much I believed.

But I was reading my desires into the verse, not the truth out of it, and I missed the whole point.

Philippians 4:13 is in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, which he wrote while in prison in Rome. Instead of speaking about achieving personal success, Paul is talking about contentment in all circumstances – whether in lack or abundance, in hardship or ease. In Philippians 4:11-12, Paul writes:”Not that I speak regarding need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.”

He wasn’t declaring that he would win every battle, achieve his dreams, or see every door open for him. He was saying that he had learned to be content in all circumstances – in hunger and in plenty, in freedom and in captivity. His strength in Christ wasn’t about getting what he wanted but about remaining faithful regardless of what happened.

Not “I can win every competition,” → But “I can remain faithful whether I win or lose.”

Not “I will get everything I want” → But “I can trust God even when I don’t have what I want.”

Not “I will always succeed” → But “I can remain strong even when I fail or struggle.”

Paul wasn’t making a prosperity declaration. He was speaking about contentment – learning to be at peace whether he had everything or nothing, whether he was hungry or full, whether he was free or imprisoned.

And here I was, twisting it into a personal success mantra, all because I wanted to force God’s will to look like my will.

The Limits of Man vs. The Power of God

Then there was Mark 10:27 -“With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”

In my misunderstanding, I used this verse to convince myself that whatever I desired – whatever felt right to me – would ultimately happen, because God makes all things possible. If something wasn’t happening yet, I just needed more faith, more prayer, more action.

But Jesus wasn’t talking about dream-chasing or personal ambitions. He was talking about salvation.

This verse comes from the story of the rich young ruler, who wanted eternal life on his own terms. When Jesus told him to let go of his wealth and follow Him, the man walked away sad – not because he didn’t believe in Jesus, but because he wasn’t willing to surrender everything.

The disciples, shocked by how hard it was for people to give up their attachments, asked, “Who then can be saved?” That’s when Jesus responded, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”

Not “Anything I want will happen if I just believe.” → But “Salvation, transformation, and true surrender are only possible through God, not my own effort.”

The real question wasn’t “How do I make my dreams possible?” It was “Am I willing to let go of everything to follow Him?” And I wasn’t. I wanted God to approve my life plan, not rewrite it.

I didn’t want to release control.
I wasn’t ready to trust God beyond my understanding.
I wanted to fit Him into my plans, not submit to His.

How Eisegesis Steals Truth

When we come to the Bible with an agenda, we don’t seek God – we seek confirmation.
When we come blind with fear, we don’t look for truth – we look for comfort, even if it’s false.
When we come with burning desires, we don’t listen – we edit.

This is exactly what I did. I read to feel better, not to be transformed. And I am sure I am not the only one. That’s why I write about all my mistakes.

Breaking the Cycle: How I Learned to Read the Bible Differently

I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly realize I was interpreting Scripture through my own agenda.

It took frustration, failure, disappointment and heartbreak.

It took prayers that weren’t answered the way I wanted.

It took hitting a wall so hard that I finally had to ask: What if I’ve been reading this wrong?

It took watching others who can truly, openly love and be genuinely devoted to following God.

It took listening to others who were well trained into how to read the Bible.

I took courage to challenge my assumptions, my desires and my fears.

I took learning how to ask questions.

I’ve learned that coming to Scripture requires surrender, not control. Instead of asking, “What does this mean for me?” I’ve learned to ask: “Am I reading this through the lens of my emotions?”

Were these the only verses I read wrong? I wish. And I have to admit: I don’t know anything. Really. I honestly think that I have only discovered 1% of the Scripture. If. This is not the place where you’d come to learn about God. This is only a small, quiet corner of the world where you come to learn that you are not the only one who struggles. Here is where we take a break from the madness and start to work through confusions and frustrations; you start to explore your beliefs, and you challenge ideas. Here you find questions that you might have never asked yourself.

I did that work, a lot of it, but there is always something to work on, and I can tell you this: as painful as it was to deconstruct my false beliefs, it was also freeing.

Because when I finally let go of my fears, doubts and twisted interpretations, I found something I had been missing all along:

Peace.

I am not the author.
I am not the architect.
I am just here to learn, follow, trust, and let His Word shape me – not the other way around.

Shared with Love,
Gabriela

I don’t pretend I KNOW. I write from my experience and from my heart hoping that what I have to share will be the support someone needs on their journey. I reserve the right to be wrong and change my mind as I grow in my own understanding.

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