God lets you be successful because he trusts you that you will

When Steve Harvey declared, “God lets you be successful because He trusts you that you will do the right thing with it. Now, does He get disappointed often? All the time, because people get there and they forget how they got it,” he spoke not merely of fortune or luck, but of divine trust. In his words lies the reminder that success is not only a crown, but also a responsibility. It is not a prize given for our own pleasure, but a sacred trust, a gift placed in our hands so that we may use it for good. Yet, as Harvey laments, many who receive this gift forget the Giver and lose themselves in pride, vanity, or greed.

The ancients knew this truth and carved it into their stories. They told of King Saul, who was chosen and blessed, yet forgot the God who raised him and turned to disobedience. His downfall was not caused by enemies, but by his own arrogance in forgetting the source of his power. So it is in every age: when men and women forget the roots of their blessings, their success becomes the very weight that destroys them. Harvey’s words are a warning against such forgetfulness, and a call to humility in prosperity.

History too gives us living proof. Consider Julius Caesar, who rose by discipline, genius, and courage, but who, intoxicated by his power, forgot moderation and turned the Republic into his personal throne. His fall came swiftly, by the hands of those who once called him friend. Or think of Napoleon, whose meteoric rise came through brilliance and vision, but whose downfall was sealed by pride, believing himself above the limits of men. Both remind us of Harvey’s truth: God’s trust can be lost, for success without humility breeds ruin.

Yet there are also those who remembered their Source. George Washington, though capable of grasping a crown, chose instead to step aside, guided by a sense of higher duty. His success was not for himself alone but for a nation, and because he did not forget how he rose, he left behind a legacy that endured. In his restraint and his remembrance, we see what Harvey calls the “right thing”: using success as a trust to serve others, not as a weapon to serve the self.

Harvey’s words pierce because they are both sobering and hopeful. They remind us that success is not evil, nor is it forbidden, but it is always a test. To be lifted high is to stand where winds are strong, where temptation is great, and where forgetting is easy. The question is not whether one will be blessed, but whether one will remain faithful once the blessing is given.

The lesson, then, is clear: if success comes to you, do not forget the hands that lifted you, the people who supported you, and above all, the God who trusted you with it. Success is not the end of the journey, but the beginning of a new responsibility. It is the moment when your true character is tested: will you serve, or will you squander? Will you honor the trust, or betray it?

Practically, this means living with gratitude. Each day, remember your beginnings and give thanks for them. Use your resources, not only for your own comfort, but for the lifting of others. Guard your heart against pride, for pride blinds and corrupts. And when you achieve victory, pause to ask yourself: “Am I doing the right thing with what has been entrusted to me?” This simple question may save your soul from ruin.

Thus, Harvey’s wisdom resounds: God gives success because He trusts us. To betray that trust is to invite disappointment, but to honor it is to transform success into legacy, blessing into eternity. Let us then walk humbly with our triumphs, using them as seeds for goodness, so that when God looks upon us, He will see not disappointment, but faith fulfilled.