This week wore me down.

Not because one huge thing happened, but because a lot of things seemed to pile up at the same time. Family. Work. Responsibility. The pressure of trying to be there for everybody. The pressure of trying to keep building TBK247. The pressure of finishing a book I’ve carried for years. The pressure of trying to be a husband, a father, a provider, and still respond like a Christian when somebody gets under your skin.

And I got tired.

I’ve been on my job for twenty years. I haven’t been in trouble in twenty-three years. I’ve lived through Alabama’s prison system, and even after all this time, there are still moments when it feels like who I used to be gets remembered before who I am now.

That gets old.

There are days when I feel like I’ve done everything I was supposed to do, changed everything I knew needed changing, stayed out of trouble, kept working, kept moving forward, and still somehow find myself carrying old consequences.

Then on top of that, you have everyday disrespect.

You have people who don’t always treat you fairly.

You have people who can say or do something and keep moving, while you’re left trying to figure out how to respond without letting your anger cost you something.

And speaking only from my own experience as a Black man, that part can be hard.

Sometimes you know you can’t respond to everything the way you want to respond.

You have a family depending on you.

You have a job.

You have responsibilities.

You have too much to lose.

Then you add being a follower of Jesus to all of that.

And Jesus says:

That sounds good in Bible study.

It feels different when you are already angry.

There were moments this week when I knew exactly what the Bible said and still didn’t want to do it.

I didn’t want another lesson.

I didn’t want somebody telling me to calm down.

I didn’t want another reminder about being the bigger person.

I was tired of being the bigger person.

I was tired of feeling like I always had to swallow something.

And I talked to God about it.

Not some polished prayer.

I told Him the truth.

And somewhere in those conversations, God started showing me something I didn’t really want to admit.

I was trying to carry too much in my own strength.

The Video I Didn’t Want to Hear

At the beginning of the week, my brother Justmic sent me a video called “Turning the Other Cheek Was Never About Being Weak.”

The timing was almost funny.

The first couple of minutes, I didn’t even want to hear it.

I texted him and told him that, laughing.

Depending on what day he had sent it, I probably would have cut it off.

That’s how irritated I was.

Sometimes somebody sends you exactly what you need, and the first thing in you doesn’t want it.

But I kept listening.

And I’m glad I did.

Part of the video took me back to the parable of the ten virgins in Matthew 25. Jesus describes five as wise and five as foolish. They all had lamps, but the wise ones brought oil with them while they waited for the bridegroom.

Jesus closes the parable with this:

I’ve always looked at that passage mainly as a warning about being prepared.

Be ready.

Stay ready.

Don’t wait until the last minute.

But this week, it hit me differently.

I started thinking about what being prepared looks like in my own life.

And I had to admit something.

A few years ago, my family and I left the church we were attending with plans of starting a church.

It didn’t happen the way we thought it would.

After that, I never really settled back in anywhere.

We would visit one church, then another.

Watch church on television.

Go somewhere else the next week.

Stay home another Sunday.

Still believing in God.

Still praying.

Still reading Scripture.

Still doing Christian media.

Still writing faith-centered work.

Still talking about Jesus.

But I wasn’t planted.

And over time, I drifted.

That’s the part I have to own.

It wasn’t some dramatic moment where I walked away from God.

It was smaller than that.

It was one Sunday.

Then another.

Then another.

And eventually something temporary can become normal.

I’ve used this picture before, but I understand it better now.

Erosion doesn’t always start with the whole mountain collapsing.

Sometimes it starts with a small piece breaking away.

Then another.

Then another.

And if you aren’t paying attention, one day you look up and realize a lot more has changed than you thought.

That’s what I feel like God has been showing me about myself.

I Was Pouring Out More Than I Was Being Filled

I’ve had a lot going on.

My wife needs me. My children need me. TBK247 needs work. The book needs work. The soundtrack needs work. My job takes energy. People call. People need things. There are problems to solve.

And none of that is necessarily bad.

The problem is that I kept pouring out while not doing enough to make sure I was staying close to the Source.

That’s what the oil started meaning to me personally this week.

I’m not saying Matthew 25 teaches that oil literally means Bible reading, church attendance, or prayer. That would be putting something into the passage that isn’t there.

But the passage forced me to look at whether I was spiritually prepared for the pressure I was facing.

For me, staying prepared means staying close to Jesus.

It means staying in Scripture.

It means praying when I have a lot to say and praying when all I can say is, “Lord, help me.”

It means corporate worship.

It means being around believers.

It means getting alone with God.

It means not fooling myself into believing I can keep pouring into everybody else without being filled.

And Jesus gives weary people somewhere to go:

I needed that this week because I was trying to make myself strong enough for everything instead of admitting I was weary and going to Jesus with it.

Sometimes I’m going to feel strong.

Sometimes I’m not.

I can’t afford to let go.

God Put People Around Me

One thing I’m grateful for is that God didn’t leave me alone with my thoughts this week.

Justmic sent that video.

I’ve got brothers around me who pray for me and talk to me when I’m not seeing things clearly.

JosefWitDaCoatOn.

Hugh Holla.

TC the Collector.

Eric Ealons, who is working with me on The Pamela Douglas Story.

I’ve had conversations with these brothers where they helped me look at things from another angle instead of just sitting in my anger.

Then my mother found out what I was going through and gave me Galatians 6:9:

That word was exactly where I was.

Weary.

I don’t want to quit. I’m not done with my family. I’m not done with TBK247. I’m not done with the book. I’m not done with what I believe God has called me to do.

I’m just tired.

There’s a difference between being finished and being tired.

And sometimes when you’re tired, you need people around you who can remind you of that.

I’m Going Back

There’s another part of this that I believe matters.

I’ve made the decision to get back into church consistently.

Not visiting somewhere new every few weeks.

Not staying on the couch and watching every Sunday.

Not putting it off.

I’m going back under my original pastor.

And this isn’t somebody who barely knows me.

He’s one of my best friends.

He’s my barber.

He knows my history.

He knows who I was in church before.

He knows I taught Sunday school. He knows I served as assistant superintendent. He knows I eventually became superintendent. He knows I was called to preach and served as a minister.

So going back isn’t just about showing up.

I already know there may come a time when I’m asked to help again.

Teach.

Serve.

Preach.

Help build.

That’s part of why getting off the couch matters.

It would be easier to stay home.

The church is an hour away from where we live. Some Sundays, just thinking about getting everybody up and making that drive feels like a lot.

There are bigger churches closer to us with more programs, more equipment, more everything.

But I’m starting to understand that sometimes you don’t need more.

Sometimes you need to be where God is telling you to be.

And for me right now, that means getting planted again.

It means leading my family there.

It means showing up.

It means getting back into the race instead of watching from the side.

Sit Down

I’ve also been thinking a lot about spiritual warfare.

I feel attacked.

I don’t say that to mean every bad thing that happens is the devil.

Sometimes people make bad choices. Sometimes life is unfair. Sometimes we suffer consequences. Sometimes my own attitude makes things worse.

Sometimes I am the problem.

But Scripture also tells me:

So I believe spiritual warfare is real.

And when I look at where I am right now, I understand why I’ve been thinking about it.

The book is finally becoming real.

The soundtrack is coming together.

People are supporting it.

TBK247 is growing.

Things I could not afford to build years ago are being built now.

And at the same time, I’m making the decision to get back into church, back under pastoral leadership, back around believers, and eventually back into serving.

So there’s been a thought I keep recognizing in different forms.

And I know that voice.

Maybe not every hard moment this week came from spiritual attack, but I know what the temptation to stay comfortable feels like.

And I don’t want to live there anymore.

The Man Everybody Leans On Needs Somewhere to Lean

I’m learning something else too.

I need people.

That may sound simple, but for a man who feels responsible for everybody else, it isn’t always easy to admit.

Sometimes I think I’m supposed to be the one everybody comes to. The one who fixes things. The one who stays calm. The one who carries it.

But the person everybody leans on needs somewhere to lean too.

That’s one reason I’m thankful for the brothers around me.

I’m thankful for my mother.

I’m thankful for my pastor.

I’m thankful for people who prayed for me this week.

And most of all, I’m thankful that Jesus doesn’t ask me to pretend I’m strong when I’m not.

I think I’ve made Christianity harder on myself at times by turning everything into one more thing I had to carry.

Be the husband.

Be the father.

Be the provider.

Forgive.

Turn the other cheek.

Go the extra mile.

Keep working.

Keep serving.

Keep believing.

Eventually even obedience can start feeling like another burden when you’re trying to produce the strength for it yourself.

But Jesus never asked me to follow Him without Him.

That sounds obvious.

Apparently I needed to learn it again.

I Became One of the People I Write For

There’s one part of all of this that made me laugh a little when it hit me.

My author statement under Daryl Ty has been:

I’ve always meant that.

I want to reach people who may never walk into a church.

People who might read a story before they ever listen to a sermon.

People who are wrestling with God.

People who have made mistakes.

People who don’t feel like church people.

Then God showed me something.

I’ve been writing for the person who may not make it to the pews on Sunday while there were Sundays when I wasn’t making it either.

Still loving God.

Still believing.

Still trying to do good work.

Still talking about Jesus.

Still needing to get off the couch.

That humbled me.

But it also helped me understand my own words better.

Maybe I’m not supposed to write for those people from some place above them.

Maybe I’m supposed to write from beside them.

Because I know what drifting feels like.

I know what being tired feels like.

I know what it feels like to love God and still realize you have allowed some distance to grow.

And I know what it feels like when He starts calling you back.

Pray for Me

I don’t want to end this pretending I have everything figured out.

I don’t.

I’m still tired.

I still have some anger I need to work through.

There are situations I still believe are unfair.

There are consequences from my past that still bother me.

There are responsibilities waiting on me tomorrow.

And I’m still learning what it means to stay filled instead of running myself empty.

So this week, I’m asking you for something.

Pray that I lead my wife and children well.

Pray that I don’t let anger lead me.

Pray that when somebody disrespects me, I remember who I belong to before I respond.

Pray that I stay in Scripture.

Pray that I stay in prayer.

Pray that I stay planted.

Pray that I keep showing up.

Pray that I don’t confuse being tired with being finished.

Pray that when God asks me to serve again, I don’t run from it.

And pray that I keep oil in my lamp.

I’m learning that carrying my cross does not mean carrying everything by myself.

I’m learning that turning the other cheek does not make me weak.

I’m learning that being the man of the house does not mean pretending I never need help.

And I’m learning that the answer to running low is not trying harder to look full.

It’s going back to the Source.

So if you’re tired too, I’m not going to tell you to just be stronger.

Stay close to Jesus.

Get in His Word.

Talk to Him honestly.

Find people who will pray with you.

Get around the Body.

And if you don’t have enough strength today to hold on with both hands, get a pinky finger on His heel.

Stay connected.

That’s what I’m trying to do.

And while I do it, pray for me too.