Better at Being Better: A Deep Dive into the Legality of Growth.

A message to Believers…

There comes a point in the life of a believer when humility must grow up. Not disappear—grow up. Because the popular phrase, “I’m not better than anybody in any way, shape, or form,” while it may sound humble, can quietly evolve into a lie we tell ourselves to avoid accountability. And more dangerously, it becomes a clever disguise for fear of separation—the fear of being set apart. But holiness requires exactly that.

Holiness, by definition, requires distinction. The Hebrew word qadosh (קָדוֹשׁ) means “set apart,” “different from the common,” “consecrated.” It has nothing to do with arrogance, and everything to do with alignment—alignment with the God who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9, NASB). So when someone is walking in holiness, by definition, they are walking a path that is not common. And that makes them—yes—better than where they were, and better than those who remain in what is destructive. That’s not self-righteousness. That’s trajectory.

There are levels to this. And denying levels doesn’t make you humble—it just makes you dishonest. There are people who are better at managing emotions. Better at controlling their tongue. Better at resisting temptation. Better at walking in patience, wisdom, faith, and love. Not better in value, but better in stewardship. They’ve taken what God gave them and multiplied it. And according to Jesus, that is the metric of greatness:

“Well done, good and faithful slave. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things…”

—Matthew 25:21, NASB

Faithfulness with what you were given is what determines your level of maturity—and maturity sets you apart. It makes you better at being better. Not as a boast, but as a fruit-bearing fact.

> “You will know them by their fruits… every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit.”

—Matthew 7:16-17, NASB

This is not metaphorical fluff. This is a legal standard. The tree that bears fruit is better—not in intrinsic value, but in output, in maturity, in purpose. In function. And Jesus is clear: fruit is visible, fruit is measurable, and fruit is undeniable. The fruit proves the root.

So when someone says “I’m not better than anyone,” the deeper truth might be this: they’re afraid of the responsibility that comes with being better. Because the moment you recognize that your growth has produced fruit, you are now accountable to protect it, prune it, and carry it. And not everyone is ready for that weight.

Let’s break it down like this:

Everybody wants to rap. But not everyone masters the craft.

Everyone wants to lead. But not everyone can shepherd.

Everyone wants the anointing. But not everyone surrenders to the crushing that brings the oil.

There are levels. And God doesn’t bless the facade—He blesses the faithful. So if you’ve been faithful, if you’ve labored in the secret place, if you’ve been refined by fire and pruned by grace—then yes, you are better. Not because you’re inherently superior, but because you have stewarded what others abandoned. You’ve multiplied what others buried.

And this isn’t ego—it’s evidence.

“By this is My Father glorified, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples.”

—John 15:8, NASB

Bearing fruit proves the disciple. It proves the investment. It proves the pruning. And it sets you apart from those who are still in their seed stage, or worse—still in denial that growth is even required.

Some of us are better at discipline.

Better at hearing God.

Better at speaking truth in love.

Better at walking in self-control.

Better at denying the flesh.

Not because we woke up better, but because we died better—daily.

And that’s not arrogance. That’s biblical.

So let’s be clear:

Better doesn’t mean you’re worth more.

Better doesn’t mean you’re above correction.

Better doesn’t mean untouchable.

It means trained.

It means refined.

It means recognized by the fruit, by the faith, and by the fire you’ve walked through.

“Solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to distinguish between good and evil.”

—Hebrews 5:14, NASB

Let that sink in. The mature—those who are better at being better—are trained. Tested. Tempered. And entrusted with the weight of meat while others are still sipping milk.

This is not about self-praise. This is about self-awareness. You’re not bragging about the fruit—you’re acknowledging the Gardener. You’re recognizing what He’s produced in you through obedience, surrender, failure, correction, and love. Denying that isn’t humility—it’s dishonor. And it robs God of the glory He receives through your transformed life.

So yes.

You are better in many ways.

Not because you’re God—but because you let Him work.

Not because you’re perfect—but because you’re perfecting.

Not because you boast—but because you bear.

So stand tall. Speak truth. Let your fruit speak for you. Because a tree that bears fruit is better than one that doesn’t.

And you, child of God—are better at being better.

No shame.

No apology.

Just evidence.

Just fruit.

Just stewardship.