The Beginning - Climb Your Mountain: 2025

Sunday, 13 April 2025

When Is Enough, Enough? Why the Answer is: Not Yet

When Is Enough, Enough? Why the Answer is: Not Yet

Let’s Get Honest Right Out of the Gate

There’s a question that echoes across every life, whether spoken out loud or whispered in the private corners of the soul:

“When is enough, enough?”

And here’s my answer, plain and simple:

If you’re still serving, still breathing, still loving, still showing up—it’s not enough yet.

Not in a way that shames you.

Not in a way that grinds you into burnout.

But in a way that elevates your calling, not excuses it.

In a world that keeps upgrading, evolving, and accelerating—maybe, just maybe, your capacity to impact the Kingdom is expanding too.

Not because you have to give more.

But because you get to.

Think About It: What We Expect from the Things We Buy

Let me take you somewhere practical before I take you somewhere eternal.

Let’s talk about personal computers.

You ever look back at the computer you had ten years ago?

Slow boot times.

Laggy video.

Fans that sounded like a jet engine.

Limited storage.

And back then, it felt like the future.

But if you turned that thing on today? You’d lose your mind waiting for a single browser to load.

Why? Because the world’s expectations have changed.

Now we expect a computer to be faster, smarter, lighter, and more efficient than ever before.

We want updates.

We want upgrades.

We want more value—but still want to pay the same price, or even less.

Same thing with cars.

Remember when rolling down your window actually meant rolling?

Now we want voice commands, backup cameras, real-time diagnostics, 600 km of fuel range, and heated seats—for the same price as a 2005 sedan.

We don’t just want more—we expect more.

Because everything around us is evolving.

So Let Me Ask You This…

If you expect more from your tech…

If you expect more from your car…

If you expect more from your groceries, your shoes, your phone, your home, your vacation package…

Why are you not expecting more from yourself?

Why would you settle for the same spiritual output you had five years ago?

Why would you serve the Kingdom at the same level you did in your last season, when you’ve been through more, learned more, and been refined through fire?

If you expect more from others—wouldn’t it be fair to believe God expects more from you, too?

Not because you failed before.

But because He’s equipped you for more now.

The Personal Mantra That Shifts the Atmosphere

Here’s what I’ve come to believe with every fiber of who I am:

“If I’m still here, there’s still more I can offer.”

I’ve made that my personal mantra.

It doesn’t mean I never rest.

It doesn’t mean I run on empty.

It just means I never believe the lie that “what I did yesterday” is good enough for today.

Because if the world around me is upgrading...

And if Christ within me is transforming...

And if the Holy Spirit is still speaking...

Then I can’t live like the mission is finished when I’m still on assignment.

Philippians 1:6 says it like this:

“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

He’s not done with me yet.

So I’m not done pouring out yet.

And neither are you.

Jesus Always Gave More Than Was Asked

Think about how Jesus lived.

He didn’t just heal—He restored.

He didn’t just preach—He transformed.

He didn’t just save—He sacrificed.

When He turned water into wine, He didn’t make enough for a glass or two. He made jars full.

When He fed the 5,000, He didn’t ration fish sticks. He gave out so much that baskets were left over.

And when He went to the Cross, He didn’t do it just to barely save us.

He gave everything.

He gave more.

So if we are to live like Him… then enough is never enough.

Not while people are still hungry.

Not while lies still circulate as truth.

Not while our children are still watching to see what faith looks like in action.

Not while we still have breath in our lungs and gifts in our hands.

The Danger of Settling

Let me be real:

There’s a kind of subtle temptation in the Christian life—especially for those who’ve served for years.

It’s the temptation to say, “I’ve done my part.”

You raised your kids in church.

You tithed faithfully.

You led a group.

You volunteered.

You prayed.

And now?

You want to coast a bit.

I get it.

But Kingdom legacy isn’t measured by seasons—it’s measured by eternity.

Luke 12:48 reminds us:

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

That’s not punishment.

That’s purpose.

You were entrusted with more—because you’re capable of more.

The moment you settle… is the moment you risk letting the weight of the Kingdom fall to someone else who’s not ready yet.

Your leadership still matters.

Your voice still echoes.

Your faith still shapes generations.

Three Ways to Add More Than Before to the Kingdom

So how do we actually do this?

How do we move from “enough” to “more than”?

How do we add value in a world where expectations keep rising but hearts keep weakening?

Let me give you three clear ways to start—today.

1. Let God Upgrade Your Obedience

You can’t pour new wine into old wineskins.

That’s not just a parable—it’s a principle.

What worked before may not be what God’s asking for now.

Maybe before, obedience looked like showing up on Sundays and being generous.

But now? Maybe it looks like starting something bold. Mentoring someone younger. Writing the book. Hosting the group. Reconciling with someone you haven’t spoken to in years.

The more you grow, the more God refines your obedience.

Romans 12:2 says:

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.”

You don’t find that will by coasting.

You find it by listening.

By upgrading your obedience to match your maturity.

By saying: “God, I’ve done that before. But what do You want from me now?”

And then saying yes to the next thing.

2. Multiply What’s Already in Your Hands

You don’t need to go find something new to be impactful.

Just multiply what you already carry.

Remember the parable of the talents in Matthew 25?

The one who multiplied his five talents into ten was praised.

The one who buried his gift?

Rebuked.

It wasn’t about the amount—it was about the action.

So take what’s in your hands right now:

Your voice
Your experience
Your spiritual wisdom
Your time
Your story
Your prayer life

And multiply it.

Maybe that looks like teaching others.

Maybe it’s investing in one person deeply.

Maybe it’s turning your testimony into a tool for others to overcome.

Don’t underestimate what’s already yours.

God doesn’t.

3. Live as If Eternity Is Real—Because It Is

When is enough, enough?

When heaven says it is.

When the trumpet sounds.

When Jesus returns.

Until then?

Live like eternity is real.

Because it is.

Live like your decisions carry weight beyond this world.

Because they do.

Live like the Kingdom is counting on you to show up with more fire, more faith, and more love than you did yesterday.

Because it is.

Colossians 3:23–24 says:

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters,
since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.
It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

That’s your reward.

And that’s your fuel.

Eternity is watching.

So don’t settle.

Multiply.

What Happens When You Choose “More Than Before”?

You change.

Your house changes.

Your leadership changes.

And slowly—quietly—the Kingdom begins to grow.

You won’t always see it.

You won’t always be thanked.

You might not even feel it.

But God sees every moment of faithful “more.”

Every extra prayer.

Every selfless conversation.

Every Holy-Spirit-prompted yes.

And one day, you’ll look around and realize…

You didn’t just do enough.

You did more.

Because Christ did more in you.

And through you.

Final Thoughts: Never Let Culture Outpace the Church

In the end, here’s what wrecks me most:

The world never stops upgrading.

Culture is constantly iterating.

The marketplace is always demanding more.

And if we—the Church, the body, the bride of Christ—aren’t also growing, stretching, and giving more, then we risk becoming irrelevant.

But worse than that—we risk becoming ineffective.

And we’re not here to survive.

We’re here to transform.

So the next time you feel that nudge to pull back…

The next time you say, “Haven’t I done enough?”

Let the Spirit whisper back:

“Not yet. There’s still more in you. And the Kingdom needs it.”

Be Bold. Be Strong. And Let the Tears Fall.

Be Bold. Be Strong. And Let the Tears Fall.

This Is the Moment You Get Real

Let me be straight with you—because anything less would be a waste of your time and mine.

This life? It’s not for the faint of heart.

The world is loud. Confusing. Distracting. Empty in all the wrong ways and full in all the wrong places.

And in the middle of all of it—you’re expected to lead.

To lead your family.

To lead your thoughts.

To lead your decisions.

To lead your legacy.

But here’s the truth no one wants to say out loud:

You cannot lead others if you can’t lead yourself.

And you cannot lead yourself if you are not honest with yourself.

And I mean gut-level, soul-revealing, Spirit-soaked honesty.

The kind that requires courage.

The kind that sometimes leaks out in tears.

The kind that demands you take a long hard look in the mirror and say:

“Where am I really at? What have I been avoiding? And what do I need to lay down at the feet of Jesus so I can rise stronger than I was before?”

Your Tears Are Not a Sign of Weakness

Let’s kill the lie once and for all.

Tears are not weakness.

They are truth leaking out.

They are your soul saying, “I can’t keep holding this inside.”

They are the intersection where pain meets healing and where sorrow begins to shift into purpose.

Even Jesus wept.

John 11:35:

“Jesus wept.”

Two words.

But enough to remind us that tears aren’t betrayal—they’re belonging.

They say, “I belong to a God who is big enough to handle my breakdown and strong enough to rebuild me afterward.”

So when the tears come—and they will—don’t hide them.

Let them wash you.

Let them humble you.

Let them square you with yourself.

Because being honest with your own pain is the gateway to power.

You Can’t Fake Strength—But You Can Forge It

We’ve all been there.

Waking up with a weight you can’t name.

Smiling when your insides are buckling.

Leading others while quietly wondering who’s leading you.

And the temptation is to pretend.

To fake the strength.

To perform your way through it.

But fake strength is exhausting.

It’s a mask that robs you of real breakthrough.

True strength—Kingdom strength—is forged.

Not in perfection.

But in the pressure.

Romans 5:3–4 says:

“We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;
perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

Hope is born from the fire—not the comfort.

So if you’re in the fire, don’t curse it.

Let God use it.

Let Him strip away the illusions.

Let Him meet you in the ashes and say:

“Now we build something eternal.”

Be Bold. Be Strong. But Be Honest First.

Joshua 1:9 is one of my life verses:

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

But let me tell you something…

God didn’t speak that to a warrior in a moment of triumph.

He spoke it to a man stepping into the unknown.

Joshua was about to lead a generation into a land of giants.

He was scared.

He didn’t feel ready.

He had to follow in the shadow of Moses.

But God said, “Be strong.”

Not because Joshua felt strong.

But because Joshua had access to strength beyond himself.

And so do you.

Your Strength Is Needed—Now More Than Ever

I don’t care what the world says about age, status, or influence.

If you’re breathing, you still have a calling.

If you’re reading this, you still have a fight to fight.

If you have children—or even just the next generation watching you—you have a mandate.

Not to impress.

But to impact.

Not to be perfect.

But to be present.

You don’t need all the answers.

You just need conviction.

Conviction that says:

“I won’t sit this one out. I won’t settle for survival. I will lead with love, live with courage, and leave something eternal behind.”

Because your sons need your example.

Your daughters need your wisdom.

Your grandchildren need your faith.

And the Kingdom needs your voice.

Three Ways to Gather Strength Through the Holy Spirit

So, how do you actually live this?

How do you go from weary to willing?

From numb to alive?

From stuck to sent?

You do it by learning how to gather strength not from your feelings—but from the Holy Spirit inside you.

Let me show you how.

1. Get Still Long Enough to Hear What’s True

The world moves fast.

It’s loud. It’s constant. It’s chaos on repeat.

But the Holy Spirit doesn’t shout over the noise.

He waits for you in the stillness.

1 Kings 19:12 tells us that God wasn’t in the wind… or the earthquake… or the fire.

He was in the gentle whisper.

You can’t receive strength if you’re running from silence.

You can’t hear truth if you’re afraid to sit with it.

So stop.

Breathe.

Ask:

“Holy Spirit, what lie am I believing today? What truth do You want to replace it with?”

And then… wait.

He will answer.

He always does.

2. Speak What You Need Until You Believe It

There is life in your words.

Proverbs 18:21:

“The tongue has the power of life and death…”

Most people don’t need new information.

They need repetition.

Not empty affirmations—but Spirit-anchored declarations.

You need to start speaking strength before you feel it.

Start your day like this:

“I have the mind of Christ.”
“The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives in me.”
“I am more than a conqueror through Him who loves me.”
“I do not walk in fear—I walk in faith.”
“I am not defined by my past—I am propelled by His purpose.”

Speak it.

Out loud.

Every day.

Your ears need to hear what your heart needs to believe.

3. Serve Someone When You Don’t Feel Like It

Here’s the paradox of Kingdom strength:

The more you pour out, the more you’re filled.

Isaiah 58:10 says:

“If you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.”

You want your darkness to lift?

Go serve someone.

Take your eyes off your struggle.

Look into someone else’s pain.

And you’ll find strength rising in you like never before.

Don’t wait to feel ready.

Just go.

Serve.

Love.

Pray.

Give.

And watch how the Spirit multiplies your energy, your clarity, and your fire.

Don’t Let the Enemy Trick You Out of Your Assignment

He’ll try, you know.

He’ll whisper lies when you’re tired.

He’ll twist truth when you’re vulnerable.

He’ll use distractions, disappointments, and even religious performance to keep you from your real calling.

But you are not here to coast.

You are not here to impress.

You are here to carry weight.

You are here to advance light.

You are here to leave a trail of glory behind you.

So when the enemy says:

“You’re not strong enough.”

“You’re too far gone.”

“You’ve messed up too many times.”

Remind him of this:

You were never meant to be strong on your own.

2 Corinthians 12:9:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

Your weakness isn’t the disqualifier.

It’s the platform.

Let God stand on it.

Let the Holy Spirit flex through it.

Let the truth be louder than the fear.

This Is the Call: Step Up and Take the Quest to the Next Level

This isn’t about hype.

This is about holiness.

This is a Kingdom quest.

And if you’re still here reading—then it means you’re still being called higher.

You have more in you.

More truth to speak.

More love to give.

More ground to take back from the enemy.

So step up.

Your family is watching.

Your children need you.

Your grandchildren are learning what strength looks like.

Let them see you pray through disappointment.

Let them see you worship in the valley.

Let them see you rise when it would have been easier to quit.

Let them see Jesus in you.

Because that’s how legacies are built.

Not with wealth.

But with witness.

Be More Than You Were Before

Not because you have something to prove.

But because you have Someone to reflect.

You carry the Spirit of the Living God.

You don’t need to be anyone else.

You just need to be fully you—fully surrendered.

That’s where the strength is.

That’s where the fire is.

That’s where the Kingdom begins to grow—one honest man, one surrendered woman, one faithful servant at a time.

Final Thoughts

Be bold.

Be strong.

And let the tears fall when they need to.

Your honesty is not a weakness—it’s a superpower.

Most people will never wrestle with themselves.

But you will.

Because Christ is in you.

And the Spirit is pushing you higher.

You were made for such a time as this.

So don’t retreat.

Don’t shrink.

Don’t defer your calling to someone else.

Stand up.

Speak out.

And press in.

Because now more than ever…

Your strength is needed.

And Heaven is counting on you.

This Is My Sincere Hope

This Is My Sincere Hope

I want you to take a deep breath before reading this.

Not because it’s long (although it is). Not because it’s the final stretch. But because what I’m about to say carries a weight that only eternity will fully measure.

These words are more than just a conclusion.

They’re a commission.

They’re not written to entertain. They’re written to ignite.

I’m not here to pat you on the back and say, “Well done for finishing the book.” I’m here to look you straight in the soul and say:

“Now that you’ve read it—what are you going to do with it?”

Because if all you do is close this book and move on with life unchanged, then this book failed.

But if you take even one thing—just one word, one truth, one whisper from the Holy Spirit—and let it take root…

Then the Kingdom advances.

Then the darkness loses ground.

Then Jesus gets glory.

And that is all I’ve ever wanted from these pages.

A Final Prayer for You

It’s my sincere hope that these writings didn’t just give you something to think about—but gave you something to live out.

I didn’t pour all this out so you’d be impressed.

I wrote this so you’d be empowered.

So you’d stop holding back.

So you’d believe again.

So you’d move forward, not in your own strength, but with the conviction of the Holy Spirit pushing you into new territory.

I pray that every page built a fire inside you.

A fire that reminds you it’s not over.

You’re not too far gone.

You’re not too broken.

You’re not too late.

You’re right on time.

Because with God—you only ever have now.

Now to repent.

Now to rebuild.

Now to restore.

Now to rise.

You don’t need to wait for the perfect moment. The moment is now.

Resetting Your Reality Starts Now

You have a choice right now.

To leave this book behind—or to let it reshape you.

To treat it as just another spiritual experience—or to use it as the launchpad of a new season.

I want you to choose the latter.

Because this is what I know:

You can reset your reality at any time when you realign your relationship with God.

That’s not self-help talk. That’s Scripture.

Lamentations 3:22–23 says:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

Every morning.

Every moment.

You have a reset waiting for you.

You don’t need a new year.

You don’t need a new job.

You don’t need a clean record.

You just need a heart that says:

“God, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The Power of Conviction

The conviction of the Holy Spirit isn’t just about feeling guilty when you’ve messed up.

It’s about being called higher.

Conviction is a gift.

It’s the voice of God saying, “This isn’t who you are. I have more for you.”

It’s the gentle, persistent nudge that says:

Speak up.

Forgive them.

Let it go.

Take the risk.

Walk in boldness.

Conviction reminds you that you're in this world for more than survival.

You’re here to bring heaven to earth.

You’re here to make a difference—one conversation at a time.

One Conversation at a Time

This is how the Kingdom grows.

Not always on stages. Not always in stadiums. But in conversations.

In the coffee shop.

In the car ride.

In the living room.

In the one-on-one moments that no one else sees—but heaven celebrates.

Jesus had crowds.

But His most transformative moments?

They happened with individuals.

The woman at the well.

The blind man on the road.

The outcast in the tree.

The doubter behind locked doors.

It was one conversation at a time—and the world changed.

You can do that too.

Armed with the Word.

Filled with the Spirit.

Speaking not for applause—but for transformation.

So, What Now?

You’ve read this book.

You’ve sat with truth.

You’ve let God whisper things into your heart that maybe you haven’t told anyone yet.

So what now?

I want to leave you with three ways to take what you’ve read and turn it into action.

Three steps that will not only better your life—but better the Kingdom around you.

1. Choose One Truth and Make It Your Foundation

You’ve read tens of thousands of words. But you only need one to change your life.

Go back through the book.

Find the sentence that shook you.

Find the paragraph that made you pause.

Find the chapter you had to reread because it felt too close to your own story.

That’s your word.

That’s your foundation.

Build on it.

Write it on your bathroom mirror.

Speak it every morning.

Let it become your anthem.

Because when storms come—and they will—you need a rock to stand on.

Matthew 7:24:

“Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.”

Don’t just hear it. Live it.

That’s when transformation begins.

2. Start With One Person, Not a Platform

You don’t need a podcast.

You don’t need an Instagram ministry.

You don’t need a logo, a slogan, or a following.

You just need one person.

One person to love.

One person to forgive.

One person to disciple.

One person to ask, “How are you—really?”

Don’t aim for masses.

Aim for impact.

Jesus left the 99 for the one.

Luke 15:4:

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them.
Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?”

Find your one.

And pour yourself out.

Because one soul rescued is worth everything.

3. Keep the Fire Alive Through Worship and the Word

You will be tempted to forget.

Life gets loud. The world pulls. Distractions multiply.

But if you want to stay on fire—you need fuel.

And there’s no better fuel than worship and the Word.

Worship aligns your heart.

The Word aligns your mind.

Together, they keep your spirit ready for anything.

Joshua 1:8 says:

“Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it.
Then you will be prosperous and successful.”

You don’t need motivation. You need meditation.

You don’t need hype. You need hunger.

Let worship become your weapon.

Let Scripture become your strategy.

And let the Spirit do what only He can do—transform you from the inside out.

Don’t Let This Be Just Another Book

Books are good.

Books are powerful.

But books don’t change people.

Truth does.

And truth only changes people when they decide to live it.

So don’t let this book sit on your shelf collecting dust.

Let it live in you.

Let it bleed into your conversations.

Let it shape your decisions.

Let it stretch your faith.

This book isn’t meant to end here.

It’s meant to begin something new.

Remember: You Were Made for More

Not more stuff.

Not more followers.

Not more success.

You were made for more impact.

More compassion.

More truth.

More presence.

More peace.

You are not ordinary.

You are not here by accident.

You were placed on this planet on purpose for purpose.

And the Spirit of the Living God lives inside you.

So act like it.

Live like it.

Pray like it.

Speak like it.

Because the world is desperate for what you carry.

I’ll Say It One Last Time: I Love You

If you only take one thing away from this entire book—take this:

You are loved.

Loved by the God who made galaxies.

Loved by the Savior who bled for your name.

Loved by the Spirit who fills your lungs with breath.

And, yes—loved by me.

You’re not alone.

You’re not forgotten.

And your story isn’t over.

So keep going.

One step at a time.

One act of obedience at a time.

One conversation at a time.

And when you fall—because we all do—get back up.

That’s the beauty of grace.

It’s not about perfection.

It’s about persistence.

Your Kingdom Assignment

Here’s your mission, should you choose to accept it:

Take one truth.
Speak to one person.
Keep the fire alive.

That’s it.

That’s how you change the world.

One truth.
One soul.
One Spirit-filled life.

And when heaven looks down on you—and it will—it won’t applaud the size of your audience.

It will celebrate the size of your obedience.

In Closing

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Thank you for letting these words into your life.

Thank you for loving Jesus and wanting to grow His Kingdom.

It’s been an honour to walk with you through these pages.

But the next part?

That’s on you.

And I know you’re ready.

You’ve been equipped.

You’ve been refined.

You’ve been called.

Now go—do more than you did before.

Because the world doesn’t need a better book.

It needs a bolder Church.

And that starts with you.

Prelog: Because You Can’t Let Your Mom Down

Prelog: Because You Can’t Let Your Mom Down

(and respectfully, Max, who is pacing beside me)

I didn’t plan on writing a Prelog.

Most books don’t have one. And if they do, it’s usually an academic thing. You know—“this is what you’re about to read and why it matters” kind of formality.

But this is not that.

This is something different.

This is a promise.

Because here’s the thing…

I made a promise to my mom.

A quiet one. A proud one. A sacred one.

I told her this book would reach 55,000 words.

And I’ve always believed that if you say something to your mom, especially something that matters to her, you follow through.

Even if it takes a few extra pages.

Even if the dog is hungry.

Even if you’re a few hundred words shy and the couch is calling your name.

You don’t let your mom down.

You honour your word.

Because promises matter.

Why This Promise Was Personal

This wasn’t about perfection. My mom didn’t need 55,000 words to be proud of me.

But I needed it.

Not because of ego.

Because of honour.

Because she believed in this book when it was still just an idea in my spirit. When it was still just late-night conversations and scribbled notes on the corner of receipts. When it was prayers spoken with both hope and hesitation.

And when I said, “Mom, I’m going to do this. I’m going to write it—start to finish. And it’ll be 55,000 words…”

She smiled.

She said, “I know you will.”

And in that moment, I made a commitment.

So here we are. Prelog and all.

Because that’s what we do when we’ve made a vow worth keeping.

We finish.

The Word Has Something to Say About Keeping Your Word

The Bible doesn’t take promises lightly.

In fact, it teaches us that our yes should mean yes—and our no should mean no.

Matthew 5:37 (Jesus speaking) says:

“Let your yes be yes, and your no, no. For whatever is more than these is from the evil one.”

That’s strong.

But it’s also clear.

When you say you’re going to do something, you do it.

Even if it costs you sleep.

Even if it costs you comfort.

Even if it costs you a whole Prelog.

Psalm 15:1-4 gives us a picture of the person who lives in integrity:

“Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent?
Who may live on your holy mountain?
The one whose walk is blameless…
who keeps an oath even when it hurts, and does not change their mind…”

That’s what I want to be.

Someone who keeps their oath—even when it hurts.

Even when it’s inconvenient.

Because it’s not about word count—it’s about weight.

The weight of our words.

The weight of the people who believe in us.

The weight of a promise made, and the integrity it takes to keep it.

Especially When It Comes to Family

Let’s be real: honoring commitments to family isn’t always flashy. It’s not public, it’s not always celebrated, and sometimes it’s behind-the-scenes.

But in the Kingdom, it’s everything.

Exodus 20:12 says it clear as day:

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”

This was one of the Ten Commandments. Foundational. Non-negotiable.

Not just for kids. For all of us.

Why?

Because family is where we first learn what love is supposed to look like.

Because parents, at their best, model the grace, discipline, and faithfulness of God.

And when we honour them—we’re honouring the Father.

Even when it’s through something small.

Even when it’s a quiet Prelog written at the end of a very long day, when the only other sound in the room is the gentle (but persistent) huff of a dog who’s ready for his evening kibble.

Three Ways to Honour Commitments—Especially to Family

So how do we do this? How do we live a life that doesn’t just keep promises but honours them?

Here are three simple but Spirit-led truths to anchor your heart in:

1. Let Your Commitments Be Anchored in Love, Not Obligation

There’s a difference between doing something because you have to and doing something because you get to.

Love changes the tone.

Love reframes the act.

When I sat down to write this Prelog, I didn’t say, “Ugh, now I have to write 5,000 more words because I told my mom I would.”

I said, “I love my mom. I love that she believes in me. And I love what God has done through this journey.”

Love changes everything.

1 Corinthians 13:1 says:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

Even if I hit the word count.

Even if the sentence structure is perfect.

Even if every theological point is sharp and scripturally sound.

If I don’t write this with love?

Then I’m just noise.

So let your commitments be rooted in love. Always.

2. Do It Quietly—and Let God Get the Glory

You don’t need a round of applause every time you follow through.

Jesus actually taught the opposite.

Matthew 6:4:

“Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

Some of the most Kingdom-shaking commitments are honoured in silence.

That call you made when no one else would.

That prayer you prayed for a family member who didn’t know you were fasting for them.

That promise you made to your dad to fix the porch, and you did it after work in the rain.

Quiet faithfulness is loud in heaven.

And God remembers every act of obedience.

3. Follow Through—Even If You Have to Crawl to the Finish Line

You won’t always feel it.

You won’t always want to.

But sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is just finish what you started.

Galatians 6:9 reminds us:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Some commitments don’t look like success until the very end.

And if you’re in a season where your promise feels heavy, where you’re wondering if you can even finish what you said you’d do—let me tell you this:

You can.

By the Spirit.

Not in your own strength. But in the power of the One who never broke a single promise He ever made.

So What’s the Point of This Prelog?

It’s not just to reach 55,000 words.

It’s to show you something deeply important:

Faithfulness matters.

Not just in chapters and checklists.

But in the quiet promises we make to the ones we love.

In the words we say that build trust.

In the actions that prove we meant it.

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably a promise-maker yourself.

You’ve made vows to your family. To your friends. To God.

And maybe you’ve broken some.

We all have.

But maybe today’s the day you circle back.

Maybe today’s the day you pick that promise back up, dust it off, and say:

“Let’s finish this.”

For your kids.

For your mom.

For your Heavenly Father.

And maybe even… for Max.

OK… Max Is Really Hungry Now

I can’t lie to you.

Max is giving me the look.

You know the one.

The “I’ve supported your entire creative process, I’ve laid quietly by your side, I’ve sacrificed my dinner for this book… and now it’s time for you to make it right” look.

So I’m going to feed him.

Because I made a promise to him too.

And you know by now—I keep my promises.

But before I close this Prelog, let me say this:

I Love You.

I mean that.

Not in a cheap, end-of-the-book kind of way.

I mean it in the kind of way that says, “Thank you for spending your time here.”

“Thank you for letting my words sit with you.”

“Thank you for walking through this book with me.”

You matter.

Your heart matters.

Your promises matter.

And your story is not finished.

So whatever it is you’ve committed to—whatever vow you made before heaven and earth—keep going.

Let the Spirit strengthen you.

Let love anchor you.

Let Jesus carry you.

And if no one’s told you lately, let me say it again:

I love you.

I’m proud of you.

And I look forward to meeting you soon.

Thank you.

Prelog complete.

Word count met.

Dinner served.

Kingdom still growing.

And Max?

Well, Max is finally eating.

And everything is just as it should be.

The Last Word Before Dinner: Max Is Hungry, and So Are You

The Last Word Before Dinner: Max Is Hungry, and So Are You

You know when you’ve poured out your heart all day, when your soul is both full and spent, when you’ve poured every ounce of yourself into something that truly matters—and just when you think you’ve reached the pinnacle of revelation, your dog walks in, sits at your feet, and gives you that look that says:

"Great job, human. But also, I'm starving."

That’s where I’m at right now.

Max—my red Boston Terrier, my loyal, soft-eyed, fire-loving, quietly-spiritual companion—has decided it's time to wrap this thing up. I’ve written through laughter. Through tears. Through Scripture. Through story. Through hours where the Holy Spirit held my hand when the strength of my own fingers gave out. I’ve typed, I’ve prayed, I’ve paced, I’ve cried—and now… it’s dinner time.

But as I finish this book and Max gears up to finish his dinner, I want to give you one last word that’s not heavy, not theological, not even structured. Just raw, real, and totally me.

Because I’m guessing, if you’ve made it this far, you're not just reading. You're searching.

And maybe—like Max—you walked into this thing spiritually hungry, spiritually hopeful, maybe even spiritually hollow.

But I hope…

That somewhere in the pages behind you, in the paragraphs now settled in your memory, you’ve been fed.

Let Me Be Clear About My Hope

Before you picked up this book, you may have whispered something only the Father could hear:

“I need to be fed.”

“I want to be closer to Jesus.”

“I’m trying, but I don’t know how to keep going.”

And friend—if that's where you started, then I thank God that’s not where you're ending.

Because this book wasn’t written to give you steps. It was written to stir your spirit.

It was written to awaken something. Not something new, necessarily. But something true.

Something already inside you—buried maybe, broken maybe—but never beyond the reach of God.

And if anything I said, wrote, wept over, or wrestled through did even one thing to help you say:

“Yes, Holy Spirit. I hear You. I will obey.”

Then every moment of writing was worth it.

Every tear, every edit, every time I second-guessed my own voice—it was worth it.

Because you were worth it.

The Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It

I’ve always said this isn’t just a book—it’s a calling.

It’s not the end of the conversation.

It’s the start of your next chapter.

The mission is simple.

Grow the Kingdom.

Make it more than it was before.

Not through striving. But through surrender.

Not through power. But through presence.

Not through eloquence. But through obedience.

You don’t need to be a preacher.

You don’t need to be a theologian.

You just need to be you—Holy-Spirit-filled, God-purposed, Christ-centered you.

Because this world doesn't need more performance.

It needs more people who are just real—and really in love with Jesus.

Now Let’s Play a Game (Because Max Told Me To)

Before I feed Max (who is now audibly sighing as he lays his chin on the floor in protest), let’s do something fun.

Let’s test your memory. Or maybe your obedience.

I want you to pause. Take a breath. And ask yourself one simple question:

What was the one thing the Holy Spirit spoke to you in this book?

Maybe you highlighted it.

Maybe you reread it three times.

Maybe it was something I wrote that echoed something you already knew but had forgotten.

Whatever it was—grab it now.

Hold it close.

And then, from the list below, pick one and make it your superpower.

Five Things I’ve Written About That Could Change Your Life Forever

Holy Spent Living:
The idea that it’s not about being burned out—it's about being poured out. When you give it all for the Kingdom, the Spirit fills where you’ve emptied.
Obedience Over Outcome:
It’s not your job to make it “work.” It’s your job to say “yes.” God handles the fruit. You handle the faith.
Don’t Let the Enemy Win:
You are a threat. You are light. And darkness will always try to silence what it fears. Keep shining.
Pain Is the Pathway to Power:
Your scars don’t disqualify you—they authenticate you. God uses the broken. That’s who He trusts with real power.
The Closeness of Heaven:
Treasure isn’t about rewards—it’s about proximity. What you do now affects how close you stand to the throne later. Live now like you’re already home.

Now Pick One… And Make It Yours

Out of those five, what stood out?

Go ahead—circle it, write it down, make it your wallpaper, tattoo it on your soul (figuratively, unless you’re a tattoo person… then go wild, just spell it right).

Now here’s the deal:

Make it your superpower.

Own it.

Let it lead how you walk, talk, live, love, give, forgive, and show up.

Let it guide how you pray.

Let it shape how you love your family.

Let it transform how you speak to your neighbor.

Let it fuel your late nights and inspire your early mornings.

Because that one truth, lived with boldness, can change the atmosphere around you.

Not because it’s flashy.

But because it’s faithful.

Why This Matters So Much to Me

You might wonder why I care so much. Why I wrote all of this. Why I poured my guts into 10,000-word final chapters when I could be watching Netflix or chasing Max around the yard.

It’s because this is real to me.

Jesus changed my life. Not just once, but every day.

He keeps rescuing me from myself.

He keeps holding me when I’m broken.

He keeps showing up when I have nothing left to offer.

And I want you to know that love.

I want you to live that love.

Because when you do—when you walk in the love and fire of God—you can’t help but change the world around you.

You become dangerous.

You become light.

You become a builder of the Kingdom.

To Those Who’ve Felt Forgotten by Church, Family, or Life

I see you.

Better yet—God sees you.

If this book found you in a moment of despair, or grief, or betrayal…

If your church pushed you out…

If your family left you behind…

If life has punched you in the throat and said, “You’re done…”

I say, you’re not.

You're just getting started.

Because when man closes doors, God breaks walls.

When people silence your voice, Heaven amplifies it.

And when you think it’s over, the Holy Spirit breathes fresh wind into your lungs.

In Closing, Because Max Really Needs to Eat

This book has been my heart.

It’s been my prayer.

It’s been my tears.

And it’s been my worship.

And now, I leave it with you—not as an end, but as an ignition.

You are now responsible for what you’ve read.

Not in guilt. In glory.

Not in pressure. In purpose.

You have a mission. And it’s not someone else’s. It’s yours.

So walk into it.

Own it.

Live it.

And if you ever doubt your place, your calling, your worth—remember:

Jesus chose you.

The Holy Spirit empowers you.

And I love you.

P.S. Happy Sunday

I don’t know what day you’re reading this—but I pray it feels like Sunday.

A day of joy.

A day of grace.

A day of resurrection.

A day of hope.

So yes—Happy Sunday.

Go feed your Max. Or hug your kids. Or forgive your enemy. Or write your next book. Or pray out loud for the first time in weeks.

Whatever it is—

Do it in faith.

Do it in joy.

And do it in the name of the One who still moves stones, mends hearts, and multiplies loaves.

And know this:

I love you.

I’m proud of you.

And I can’t wait to see what you do next.

When the Church Pushes You Aside: What Do You Do When Acceptance Turns to Abandonment?

When the Church Pushes You Aside: What Do You Do When Acceptance Turns to Abandonment?

From Belonging to Being Dismissed

There was a time when I walked into my church and felt it immediately—home.

I was greeted not just with words but with warmth. With sincerity. With shared faith.

I didn’t just attend; I belonged.

I was seen. Valued. Encouraged.

And when the Spirit moved in me, when the gifts began to flow—wisdom, discernment, words of life—I poured them out freely. Not to be elevated, but because I believed we were all meant to build one another up in love.

That’s what Scripture says, after all.

Ephesians 4:16 tells us:

“From Him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”

I was part of that body. And I was doing my work.

But slowly, something shifted.

The smiles became shorter.

The hallway greetings felt manufactured.

The opportunities to serve vanished—without conversation, without explanation.

And where I once felt included, I began to feel managed.

Then, worse—avoided.

When False Accusations Start to Shape the Narrative

The real blow didn’t come with a conversation. It came in whispers.

Suddenly, I became aware that people were “checking on me” not out of care—but out of concern.

Not concern for my wellbeing—but concern for what they’d heard.

False accusations.

The kind that are rooted not in truth but in insecurity. In fear. In a desire to protect “the brand” of a church more than the body of Christ.

It didn’t take long for those accusations—unfounded, unchecked—to shape the environment.

People distanced themselves.

Ministry leaders didn’t return texts.

The pastor’s tone shifted.

I could feel it. Like being quietly exiled without a trial.

And what hurt the most wasn’t just the distancing.

It was the devaluation of the very gifts that once had me embraced.

The Gift Became the Threat

What do you do when the thing God placed in you becomes the very thing that others now reject?

I wasn’t trying to disrupt anything.

I wasn’t chasing a pulpit.

I wasn’t promoting myself.

I was just obeying. I was just sharing what the Holy Spirit gave me to share. Whether it was a word of encouragement, a prayer for healing, or a bold truth spoken in love—my heart was always for edification, not elevation.

But somewhere along the way, my gift started to feel inconvenient for the church.

Especially when it didn’t fit the communication strategy.

Especially when it didn’t align with financial targets or upcoming initiatives.

And suddenly, what was once seen as Spirit-led became “too intense.”

What was once prophetic became “divisive.”

And I felt it: the door that once swung wide for me… now slowly closing.

Jesus Was Familiar With Rejection Too

This isn’t new.

Jesus experienced it first.

John 1:11 says:

“He came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him.”

And again in Mark 6:4:

“A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.”

The very place Jesus should have been celebrated, He was questioned.

“Isn’t this the carpenter?”

“Isn’t this Mary’s son?”

And He could do very few miracles there because of their unbelief.

That blows my mind.

Jesus didn’t stop being the Son of God. His power didn’t diminish. But their hearts closed.

Not because of truth. But because of assumption.

The same thing happens in the modern church. You start being known not for your fruit, but for the fear you make others feel when your gift outpaces their comfort.

When the Church Becomes a Machine Instead of a Body

Let me say this with grace, but also with boldness:

Church was never meant to become a brand.

It was never meant to be a curated experience with carefully controlled voices.

It was meant to be family.

A place where the gifts of the Spirit flowed freely—through everyone—as the Spirit willed (1 Corinthians 12:7-11).

But what happens when church leadership begins filtering those gifts through the lens of:

“How will this impact our giving numbers?”

“Will this word disrupt the service flow?”

“Can we manage this person?”

The Spirit gets boxed in.

And the people carrying those gifts? They start getting boxed out.

That’s what I felt.

That’s what I’m still grieving.

What Do You Do With the Hurt?

You don’t bottle it.

You don’t retaliate.

And you definitely don’t let the enemy use it to turn your love cold.

Because that’s what he wants.

Matthew 24:12 says:

“Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold…”

He wants you to get bitter.

He wants you to withdraw.

He wants you to stop using your gift altogether.

But hear me—don’t give him that satisfaction.

Three Ways to Use This Experience to Do More Than Before

When you’ve been pushed out, wrongly accused, or ignored for the sake of image—God doesn’t waste it.

He refines you through it.

Here’s how to use this pain to do more with the gift the Spirit has given you.

1. Double Down on Intimacy With the Spirit, Not Approval From Man

Galatians 1:10 says it best:

“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people?
If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

When the church distances you, God draws near.

And sometimes—sometimes—He lets the rejection happen so you’ll stop trying to find belonging in the wrong place.

He wants to remind you: Your calling doesn’t come from committees. Your value isn’t set by a platform. Your gift wasn’t approved by a marketing team.

You don’t need another stage.

You need a prayer closet.

You need deeper intimacy with the One who gave you the gift in the first place.

Because if it was truly from Him, no man can cancel it.

2. Pour Into the Hungry Remnant That Still Wants the Fire

There is a remnant.

Always.

A group of believers—sometimes outside the building—who are starving for the raw, Spirit-led, unfiltered movement of God.

Find them.

Gather them.

Disciple them.

Pour into them.

Acts 2:17:

“‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out My Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
your young men will see visions,
your old men will dream dreams.’”

That prophecy doesn’t say “only those on staff.”

It says all people.

Your gift isn’t meant to be shelved until church politics align.

It’s meant to flow.

So let it.

Create new space for it.

Even if it means leaving old structures behind.

3. Let Your Pain Shape Your Ministry With Deeper Compassion

This part hurts—but it’s holy.

When you’ve been falsely accused, misunderstood, and silenced—you understand pain differently.

You speak more gently.

You pray more earnestly.

You discern more wisely.

You don’t just carry a gift—you carry depth.

And that’s what the Kingdom needs.

Jesus didn’t walk through Gethsemane just so we could skip pain.

He walked it so we’d know how to carry others through it.

Hebrews 5:8:

“Although He was a son, He learned obedience through what He suffered.”

Let that sink in.

Even Jesus learned through suffering.

You’re not broken.

You’re being shaped.

Don’t Let the Enemy Win

You may feel like you’ve been pushed out.

But maybe you’ve just been released.

Released into something deeper.

Something raw.

Something Kingdom.

Don’t stop using your gift.

Don’t stop speaking truth.

Don’t stop loving the church—even when she wounds you.

Because this isn’t about ego.

This is about eternity.

You are still chosen.

Still called.

Still equipped.

Let them talk.

Let them distance.

Let them underestimate.

God isn’t done with you.

Final Thoughts: You’re Not Alone

David was chased by Saul.

Joseph was betrayed by his brothers.

Jesus was rejected in His hometown.

Paul was abandoned by churches he planted.

And yet… the Kingdom moved forward.

So will you.

They might push you aside—but Heaven still sees you front and center.

And in the end, your reward won’t come from applause here.

It will come from the words we all long to hear:

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

So until then… keep going.

Keep pouring.

Keep loving.

And don’t let the enemy write your ending.

God is still holding the pen.