"God Is Dealing with Those Who Hurt You If You Notice These 7 Signs " | ANTHONY HOPKINS

Ladies and gentlemen, have you ever felt the sting of betrayal, the weight of injustice, the agony of wounds left unseen? You've given your trust, your heart, your kindness, only to have it trampled by those who never deserved it. You wonder, will they ever answer for what they've done?

I am here to tell you: yes, yes they will! Not by your hands, not through vengeance or bitterness, but through a force greater than all of us. God is dealing with them, and if you watch closely, you will see the signs.

Stay with me, because by the end of this, you will no longer carry the burden of resentment; you will walk away lighter, stronger, and filled with a faith that whispers justice is already in motion. There is a quiet justice in this world, a force that moves unseen, unraveling the lives of those who betray, deceive, and destroy without remorse. You may not notice it immediately, but it is there, working like the slow pull of the tide, carving away at the very foundation of those who have wronged you.

The weight of their own actions begins to crush them, and they won't even realize it until it's too late. People who harm others live with the illusion that they can outrun consequence, that their actions will disappear into the past without ever echoing back. But there is a law greater than any written by man; a divine force that does not forget, does not overlook, and does not allow wrongdoing to go unaccounted for.

It is patient, precise, and relentless. It doesn't need anger, it doesn't seek permission, and it certainly doesn't require your intervention. It simply is.

At first, those who hurt you may seem untouchable. You watch them walk away unaffected while you are left carrying the weight of their betrayal. You see them continue their lives as if nothing happened, moving forward while you struggle to pick up the pieces.

But beneath the surface, something is happening. The cracks begin to form; the foundation they built for themselves, often on deception, selfishness, and cruelty, begins to falter. They start making mistakes—small ones at first: a misplaced word, an uncalculated risk, a decision made in arrogance.

They assume they are still in control, still invincible, but these mistakes are not random. They are the first signs of the collapse. Their own choices begin to betray them, leading them into corners they cannot escape.

You see, when people act without integrity, they weave a web of lies and deceit, and webs, no matter how carefully spun, will always catch the one who created them. At some point, they forget their own falsehoods; they slip, they contradict, they expose themselves. What once gave them power—their manipulation, their ability to twist reality—now turns against them.

The world they built through deceit starts closing in, suffocating them under the weight of their own duplicity. And then something deeper happens. They begin to lose what they once took for granted.

It starts subtly; the friendships they never valued begin to fade; the opportunities they once assumed were theirs by right start slipping away; the security they built their pride upon begins to feel uncertain. Life has a way of stripping people of their comforts when they least expect it, not as punishment, but as consequence. Because the universe does not operate on revenge; it operates on balance.

What was taken unfairly will be returned in ways they never anticipated. What was gained through deceit will eventually rot from within. It may take time, but time is never the enemy of truth; it is its greatest ally.

People who hurt others rarely understand what they've done until it's happening to them. They walk through life believing they can harm without cost, that their actions disappear once they turn their backs. But nothing ever disappears; everything they have done is etched into the very fabric of their existence, and sooner or later, it will reflect back at them.

You don't have to witness it for it to be real; you don't have to seek it for it to happen. Their downfall is not your responsibility; it is the natural order of things. When someone takes from you—your peace, your trust, your kindness—they are borrowing against a debt they do not understand, and that debt will always come due.

So you must not waste your energy waiting for their reckoning; it is not your burden to carry. Look instead at your own path, because while they are busy crumbling under the weight of their own making, you are rising, and nothing is more powerful than that. There is a shift that happens when justice begins to unfold.

Though it may not always be visible at first, you feel it before you see it—a restlessness in the air, an unease that lingers, not around you, but around them, the ones who caused you pain. They move differently; their words don't land the same; their laughter feels forced. They are being followed, not by you, not by anyone they can see, but by the weight of what they've done.

It's inescapable. People who harm others convince themselves that their actions have no lasting consequence. They move through life as if untouched, unaffected, believing that time will erase their wrongdoings.

But time does not erase; it reveals. And there comes a moment when the very people who once walked with arrogance begin to look over their shoulders, uncertain of the very ground beneath them. It starts as discomfort—a whisper in their minds they cannot silence, a memory they cannot push away.

They begin to question themselves in ways they never did before: What once seemed justified now feels questionable; what once felt triumphant now seems hollow. It is a slow unraveling, a gradual pulling apart of the identity they crafted, and no matter how much they try to outrun it, it follows them, because it lives inside. them.

They don’t realize that the moment they hurt you, they planted a seed—not in your life, but in theirs. A seed of consequence, of accountability, of reckoning. At first, it is dormant, but with time, with the right conditions, it begins to grow.

It spreads its roots through their thoughts, their choices, their relationships. It tightens its grip on their actions, influencing the way they move through the world. The weight of their choices begins to manifest in their reality; the things they once controlled start slipping.

Conversations don’t go as planned; situations they once navigated with ease now feel complicated. The people who once stood by them start to feel distant. Life begins to push back—not because of external forces, but because the energy they put out is returning to them.

And then something unexpected happens: you change. The pain they caused you, the betrayal, the hurt—it doesn’t own you anymore. You begin to rise, not out of vengeance, but out of growth.

You become stronger, not because they suffered, but because you survived. And while they wrestle with the weight of their own actions, you are no longer trapped beneath them. You become the living proof that they did not break you, that their worst did not define you.

And that, more than anything, is what unsettles them the most. Because they expected you to stay wounded, to remain lost in the pain they inflicted. But instead, you became more.

Your success, your healing, your ability to move forward—it shines a light on their darkness. It forces them to see what they did not, through anger but through contrast. They see you thriving, and in doing so, they are reminded of their own stagnation.

What they did to you was supposed to diminish you, but it did the opposite—and that is something they cannot escape. People often think justice is about seeing those who hurt us suffer. It isn’t.

Justice is about restoration; it is about balance. It is about allowing life to move in its natural rhythm, knowing that every action carries a weight, every choice has a cost. And while they struggle with the burden of their past, you are free—not because you sought revenge, but because you chose growth.

And nothing, nothing is more powerful than that. Life has a way of balancing itself, even when it seems unfair, even when it feels like those who hurt others continue to thrive. But nothing that is built on deception, cruelty, or selfishness can stand forever.

There comes a time when the world stops rewarding those who take without giving, those who manipulate without consequence, those who believe they can outrun accountability. It happens gradually, subtly—in ways that are often unnoticed by the ones experiencing it—until one day, they wake up and realize that nothing is quite the same. There was a time when everything seemed effortless for them; opportunities opened without question, people gravitated toward them, trusting, believing.

They walked through life as if it belonged to them, as if the rules that applied to others did not apply to them. But there is an expiration date on borrowed luck. The universe does not give endlessly to those who do not give back.

There is a moment when the tide shifts, when the doors that once opened without hesitation begin to close. The favor they assumed was permanent begins to fade, and they are left standing in a reality they no longer recognize. They won’t understand it at first; they will blame circumstances, blame others, blame misfortune.

But deep down, something lingers—a quiet awareness, a realization that perhaps this is not random. Perhaps this is the weight of choices catching up to them. Perhaps this is life returning what was always theirs to bear.

And when they look around, searching for someone to lean on, they find fewer hands reaching back. The people who once stood by them begin to distance themselves, not out of malice, but out of something greater: clarity. People begin to see them for who they are, not who they pretended to be.

There is nothing more isolating than losing the illusion of control. Those who believe they could shape the world in their favor, who moved through life thinking they could manipulate outcomes to their advantage, eventually find themselves powerless—not because someone took their power, but because they never truly owned it to begin with. It was borrowed, conditional, dependent on the trust and goodwill of others.

And when that trust is broken, when that goodwill is exhausted, there is nothing left to stand on. Some will fight against this reckoning, refusing to see it for what it is. They will scramble to regain what they lost, trying to force their way back into favor, trying to reclaim the ease with which life once granted them things they no longer deserve.

But others—some will begin to understand. They will recognize that they are standing in the shadow of their own past, that what they are facing is not misfortune, but consequence. And that is when the real choice presents itself.

Do they change? Do they acknowledge the harm they’ve caused, not just in words, but in action? Do they seek redemption, not as a way to erase their guilt, but as a way to truly make amends?

Or do they run? Do they continue to blame everything and everyone but themselves? Do they hide behind pride, behind denial, behind the false comfort of self-righteousness?

Some will come back, not because they miss you, not because they truly understand, but because they want relief. They want to be freed from the weight of their conscience. They want to rewrite the past in a way that makes them feel better about themselves.

Be careful with those who return only to ease their own discomfort. Be cautious of those who seek forgiveness without offering true change. Words are.

. . Easy, but transformation is not.

And if they have not changed, they are simply seeking to borrow from you again: your kindness, your patience, your energy, without ever intending to give in return. And then there are those who will run, who will refuse to acknowledge the part they played in their own downfall. They will search for new distractions, new people to deceive, new ways to avoid looking in the mirror.

They may escape for a while, but they will always be running, because what they are running from is themselves, and there is no distance far enough. You do not need to wait for this moment; you do not need to watch them struggle to believe that justice is real. Your life is not meant to be spent looking backward, waiting for proof that they are paying for what they've done.

The moment you step forward, the moment you refuse to let their actions define you, you have already won. Because while they are trapped in the cycle of their own making, you are free, and there is no greater victory than that. Ladies and gentlemen, listen to me: you do not need to seek revenge; you do not need to hold on to the pain.

The universe is already at work; God is already at work. And when you see these signs, do not rejoice in their suffering; rejoice in your freedom. Rejoice that you survived, that you rose, that you became untouchable.

Let go, walk forward, and leave them to the justice that was never yours to carry. Because in the end, the strongest revenge is a life well-lived.