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Part 9 of 19
The Courage to Commit Volume Two: I Got the Keys
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We're in the midst of a series entitled The Courage to Commit Volume Two: I Got the Keys. Each week, I don't mind repeating myself because repetition helps encourage revelation. The more you do it, the more you see. The more you see, the stronger you become. The stronger you become, the greater God can use you.
Let me demonstrate this principle with a simple exercise. I'm going to say a familiar story, and I want you to notice what reveals itself each time you hear it:
Mary had a little lamb, feet was white as snow.
The first time you hear it, certain things jump out at you—perhaps "feet," "white as snow," or "lamb." But when you repeat it, deeper meanings emerge. If it's Mary's lamb, that means she's an entrepreneur—she owns something. Why would they use the word "little"? Why "lamb" instead of "sheep"? The word "had" denotes that it's now gone. If Mary's lamb walked on its feet all day on dirty ground, how did its feet stay white as snow? Is that indicative that I can walk through something but it not get on me?
This is why repetition breeds revelation. Each time you repeat yourself, God begins to reveal truths you can make applicable to your life.
I know some people thought I was crazy for repeating the same principles week after week. But here's what I want: I don't want you to leave here saying, "I had a time." I want you to leave here with arsenal. I want you to leave here with weapons. I want people to leave us stronger and wiser. I want sisters saying, "I'm stronger. I'm wiser. I'm better."
I don't want to do the type of preaching that dangles wholeness over you, suggesting you have to come to me to get it. I want to give you enough that if you're sick at home on Tuesday, you don't have to wait four days until Sunday—because you got the key. You can just lay hands on yourself.
We're in the midst of a series entitled Courage to Commit. Let me recap what we've covered:
Week One: The Principle of Generosity — A heart that's willing to give that leads to a life that's free.
Week Two: The Mindset Principle — What I believe about me often determines what I believe about God.
Week Three: The Principle of Multiplication — God did not simply cause us to maintain, but he called us to multiply.
Week Four: The Principle of Freedom — Freedom is not doing whatever you want to do, but freedom is doing what God created you to do. If you're not doing what God created you to do, don't beat yourself up. There's still time.
Week Five: The Principle of Partnership — Trusting the wrong people will make you worse, but trusting the right people will help you win.
Today, I want to give you something different. I want you to take really good notes.
The principle of transformation suggests that my gift will change others, but my character will change me.
This is strong. Why is this strong? Because for centuries, the world has highlighted great gifts but overlooked great character—and that includes myself and people we love.
Some of the best singers in the world don't have awards. Some of the best preachers and pastors in the world don't have megachurches. Some of the best cooks aren't on Food Network. Some of the most kind-hearted people may not have a billion dollars. But we live in a culture where we highlight great gifts and we gloss over great character.
Your gift can be great, but if your character doesn't match your gift, you're going to be miserable because you'll have enough to bring them out, but not enough to get you out.
And let me be clear: bad character isn't about sinning or slipping up three weeks ago. Because I'm human and there's something in me called flesh, I will fall. Bad character is when you lay down and stay down and don't have a heart to get up.
That's why your haters, your cousin, and your mama can't figure you out. They saw you go down, and they can't figure out how you keep getting up.
The reason so many creatives, so many gifted people, so many individuals who have a heart to help people end up miserable is because we have the assumption that the gift is for you.
Look at hair stylists—why is their own hair never done? Look at mechanics—why is everything in their driveway broken down? Because they're so busy using their gift to help others, they ain't had enough time for their gift to help themselves.
Your gift says a lot about God, but your growth says a lot about you.
Transformation is important because God is not interested in making us better versions of our old self, but dying to our old self in order to fully embrace our best self.
This is the biggest flaw in our mindset. You keep saying, "You're about to see the new me." But the new me is just an upgraded version of the old me. When you say "new you," sometimes the new you is attached to doing new stuff.
God said, "I'm not trying to bless you so you can do something new. I'm trying to best you so you can become the best version of who I called you to be."
I want you to write down five things you need to be better at. Go ahead and do that.
And here's why this is so critical: The most difficult person you will ever have to let go of is who you used to be.
I'm wrestling so hard with changing my phone number. I've had it for almost twenty years, and when I say it out there, it's out there. I get calls you wouldn't even imagine. People hit me up asking for money, for favors—someone even called asking for a down payment on a Cadillac. In my head, I think, "I've got to change my number." I've been saying I'm going to change it for two years, but I'm scared that if I do, somebody who really needs access to me won't have it.
But here's the reality: If I ain't heard from them yet, that may be an indication that I need to change access.
One of the greatest stalls to shifting is being tapped into by somebody who knew you. And what I'm discovering is most of us are stuck in middle seasons.
Let me define middle seasons: Middle seasons exposed that Moses's gift could handle the next level, but his character couldn't.
Your gift is about what you have. Character is about what you can handle.
What is a gift? A gift is that thing that God gave you that is unique. It's spiritual. Your gift is what God puts on your talent. Your talent is a natural ability—what you can naturally do.
So here's what's critical: Your gift is about what you have. Character is about what you can handle.
That's why I laugh sometimes seeing people with ten members and six security guards. Don't nobody know you enough to want to kill you. That's indicative that you're trying to walk in something God hasn't elevated you to yet. That's a reflection of your character being unsatisfied with your current season.
The question isn't going to be, "Can you have it?" The question is going to be, "Can you handle it?"
I'm so grateful God didn't give me what I wanted when I wanted it. Had God blessed my music when I actually wanted to do music, I probably wouldn't be looking at you right now. It would have consumed me. I would have been too impressed by the people I met to remain myself.
Getting there is the easiest part. The question is not can you have it. The question is: can you handle it?
Stress is typically the result of not handling some other aspect of your life.
You're stressing in this area really because you can't handle that area. The spillover in this area impacts that area. When I tore my ACL, I started leaning too much on the other side. When gout hit my foot, I began to limp. Well, I ended up with a stress fracture on the other side because I started overusing the healthy side.
If you don't develop your weakness, your strength will start hurting.
What's going to break a lot of us down is when we start stressing in the area of our strength. And what the devil does is this: if you don't develop your weakness—and prayer is your strength—he'll start making your place of prayer stressful. He'll start making your ability to worship stressful. He'll start making church stress.
This is why so much church mess happens: because the devil knows if he can make your place of safety a place of stress, it'll take you out of your place of peace.
In today's text, we see Moses having an emotional meltdown. Moses and the children of Israel are in the wilderness. Let me give you the context.
Moses rose up to Pharaoh and said, "Pharaoh, what? Let my people go." Pharaoh told him, "If you don't get out of my face, plagues are going to break loose."
The first thing we should notice is Moses's ability to submit so his character can be used. Moses has a stutter. He gets in front of the king and speaks fluently. This is critical. His courage, his faith—he becomes what God calls him to be.
Pharaoh lets them go, and plagues start racing: locusts, frogs, the sea turns red, blood in the water, cattle start dying. All of this happens. Then Moses gets the children of Israel, and they bounce out. Now they're in the wilderness, and they're complaining: "Where are we going to drink?"
God tells Moses, "Use your staff. Strike the rock." Moses strikes the rock, and water comes out. Everybody gets a drink of water.
Moses strikes the rock a second time when God commanded him to speak to it. This wasn't primarily about disobedience to a command—it was a sign of something far deeper. Moses couldn't handle his emotions.
The reason Moses never entered the promised land wasn't because he struck the rock. He didn't enter because he couldn't manage his emotional life. When the people questioned his leadership and gift, insecurity took over. Had he been secure in his character, he would have stood firm and obeyed God's instruction to speak. Instead, his emotions—rooted in anger—drove his actions.
Anger is not the primary issue; it's secondary. If you trace Moses's life back, you discover what truly triggered everything: rejection.
In Exodus chapter 2, Moses was born into rejection. When Pharaoh ordered the death of all firstborn Hebrew boys, Moses's mother placed him in a basket and set him in the water. His own people had to hide him to save his life. This foundational rejection shaped everything that came after.
Many of us are frustrated because we don't have anyone who loves us enough to investigate the root causes of our behavior. Instead, people just label us. Stop labeling someone if you don't have enough time to investigate them. There's investigative work that must happen.
Moses grew up with a profound inner conflict. He was both Egyptian and Hebrew—raised by an Egyptian princess but the son of a Hebrew slave. His fake family lived in royalty with a throne; his real family lived in poverty and persecution.
This duality created lasting tension within him. You'll be surprised how many people walking in favor don't realize that the very favor they experience causes an inner conflict. When you've been elevated beyond where you came from, and you go back around the people you grew up with, they resent the change in you. They highlight what you did as if it's a bad thing, even though changing was always part of God's plan.
Years later, as a grown man, Moses visited his own people and witnessed an Egyptian beating a Hebrew. Look at what happened next:
After looking in all directions to make sure no one was watching, Moses killed the Egyptian and hid the body in the sand.
He didn't just act—he hid. He checked to see if anyone was looking. This is critical.
Many of us are held back by the same pattern. We are freed by the blood of the Lamb and by the testimony of our word, yet we keep hiding things. If you aren't careful, you end up living a life where you have to look in all directions before you move because of who you are. You think, "If you knew what I actually did, you couldn't handle who I am."
Because of this murder and cover-up, Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness. But here's what's important to understand: he wasn't in the wilderness those first 40 years because God was developing him. He was in the wilderness because he was hiding.
There are two types of people in church. Some are in isolation because God is developing them. Others are hiding because they killed something—literally or figuratively. They buried bodies of decisions, secrets, places they went, things they did.
You're sitting in church looking at each other like you're all perfect, yet you're sitting on rows full of people who've had to bury things. Seven of you ought to shout not for who you are, but because you survived your own mess. You survived your own foolishness. You survived your own scandals. If people didn't like you for what they heard about you, they couldn't stand you for what you actually did.
Here's what's critical: even when Moses was hiding, God was still developing him. He had no idea that God had him hiding in a place he would need to be familiar with. Years passed. The king of Egypt died. The Israelites cried out for a deliverer, and God heard them.
Being in God's presence is not a substitute for applying God's principles.
This is essential. God doesn't have to answer your prayer with a conversation. While the Israelites were crying for a deliverer, God was talking to Moses. The answer to your prayer might be a conversation with your solution, not with you directly.
Just because you're gifted does not mean you're delivered. Your issue might be temporarily dormant, showing up later in destructive ways—like when Moses struck the rock in anger decades after his initial sin.
Moses killed someone, hid the body, and was never caught. Then God called him out of hiding to be used. But being in God's presence and being used by God is not a substitute for doing what He asks of you. This is why sometimes the most gifted people struggle with the nastiest character issues.
You can see someone on stage with incredible gifts, then later hear what they did in private, and be shocked. Don't assume that because someone is gifted, their character matches their gift. Being used by God doesn't mean you've dealt with your foundational issues—the rejection, the anger, the hiding.
Moses had to learn this lesson repeatedly. Even after all God did for him, when challenged by the people, his unresolved emotional wounds surfaced, and he struck the rock instead of speaking to it.
God knows where every buried body is. While Moses was hiding his sin, God was standing there saying, "I see this. I know where the body is. But here's what I'm going to do." The 40 years in the wilderness was a type of imprisonment—Moses served his time, just not the way people would have wanted him to.
Where can I go from your presence? If I make my bed in hell, you'll be there.
You can't determine someone else's punishment because you're not in charge of their placement. Seven of you need to drive yourselves crazy trying to determine what punishment someone should face. Can you thank God that you served time, even if it wasn't the public way others would have demanded?
Some of you never got caught publicly, but privately you've been catching hell. Even now when God blesses you, it's hard to enjoy because you're looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to dig up your body. That's the prison of hiding—and it's time to come out.
I'm not telling you to go around telling everyone your business. Keep that between you and God. But what I am saying is: come out of hiding. Come out of hiding. I know you ain't always had it together, but come out of hiding.
Just because you're gifted does not mean you're delivered. I tithe. I pray. I try to live the best life I can live. I'm gifted and twisted. I'm gifted. I know God called me, but I got a lot of flaws. I'm righteous and raggedy. Within me is an anthropological duality. I don't know who I am sometimes. I don't know if I'm coming or going, if I'm in or out, if I'm up or down. Catch me on the wrong day, I'm not Pastor Mike Jr. Catch me on the right day, I am Pastor Mike Jr. This hand will lay hands or fight it. I don't know which one it is sometimes, but I do know who got me.
Don't mistake your issue being dormant for you being delivered. Avoidance ain't deliverance. Just because you ain't been around it don't mean you over it. You ever thought you was over something? Then you got into a casual conversation and as you started talking about it, you heard yourself talking and realized, I don't think I'm over this.
For years, church been preparing us for praise, not for pain. For years, we've been prepared for when the blessings show up, not when life hits you.
Are you prepared for life happening? If I go home today and the house empty and it's a note on the table, "I can't do this no more. I love you, but you got it"—am I prepared for that? You know the type of world we live in where one person can wake up in the morning and post a lie, it goes viral. Now the same folks shout and preach, "I just knew it was too good." Am I prepared for that?
Your gift don't isolate you from hits. Your character prepare you for them. I tried to preach myself out of depression. I tried. I couldn't do it. I'm just grateful I had enough character to hit a couple people up and say, "Y'all help me."
Be careful. All my pseudo righteous spiritual saints who watching me from all over the world—in a good season, don't be tooting your nose down at people. We like dead bodies, don't we? We like knowing what's in people's sand. We like messy people who thrive hearing stuff because it makes you feel good. Mess feels better because it makes you comfortable with what you got hiding.
Moses was utterly rejecting God and trying to take control. He was angry. He struck the rock twice when God just said, "Speak to it." In other words, I'll handle it. The pain will not become your purpose unless you handle it. But if you handle it your way, it is the illusion of control. You will become overwhelmed. But if you handle it God's way, you will be fulfilled.
I got to make this practical. My way versus God's way. I know there have been seasons in my life where God told me to pray over my babies. I start talking to them, got so mad and just whooped him. But you know what I discovered? Violence don't work. It's almost like motivation for it. Just it make me feel better. My way don't work.
Every place where you choose to do it your way is an illusion of control. It's an illusion of control. When I tell my son, "Miles, I'm going to let you pick dinner today," and I give him choices, he thinks he picked—but I already ordered the pizza. I just wanted him to feel like he picked. I'm trying to develop something in him: choices and decisions. But he has no idea what's planned for him tomorrow.
Here's what I discovered: even though he got to pick today, if I tell him tomorrow you got to do what I said, he ain't going to be satisfied that he got to pick because immaturity will always forget what has happened and be stuck in what is happening. And you will be frustrated over right now like God ain't been good to you. That's for six of y'all who every time somebody don't do something you want, you bring it up. You ain't never grateful. They've been good to you. You selfish. You immature.
Moses struck the rock twice when God said speak to it. Why? Because Moses became so frustrated that all he cared about was getting water out of the rock when God wanted to get the anger out his heart. Moses was so ready to shut them up, he shut himself out.
He called them rebels. When Moses dishonored God, he looked like who he was supposed to provide for. So the reason didn't nobody get into the promise because Moses disqualified himself because he tried to impress the people who did not honor God.
Can I ask you a question? You so ready to get rid of that bill when you missing God put you in that situation because it's something he's trying to get out of you.
I love when I get invited to environments where it ain't Christian. I've performed in several nightclubs. The promoter will say, "Hey, I just want you to know this ain't a church. It's a little rowdy." And you know what I discovered? The same folk in there on Saturday at church on Sunday. So here me: transformation happens from the inside out, not from the outside in. I do me because I want to show God even in a rebel place, I honor you.
I was so excited because I ain't cussed once about construction delays. Old pastor Mike would have lost it. I would have yelled at the staff, telling them it better be gone by next Tuesday. But now I'm like, "Okay, God. Okay, God. All right, let's figure it out."
The older I get, the more I understand patience. Many of us don't like patience because it often forces us to become a patient. It is in patience that God operates on the patient. And whenever the patient checks him or herself out the hospital, you delay the total healing you should have had. So you leave, but you leave leaking, which means eventually you going to have to get back in.
If it's always my way, here's the thing: if I put me in it, then I got to get me out of it. But if God put me in it, then God got to get me out of it.
When we prioritize relationships over results, we experience transformation. This means we don't allow our goals to become our God. The relationship means more than the results. If I walk in frustrated about scaffolding in the parking lot and I kill my witness with somebody who ain't got nothing to do with it, what's that about?
When we rely on God more than we rely on our gift, that's when transformation happens. This means we use our gift to build God's kingdom instead of using our gift to build our confidence. It's certain people who if they ever get what they praying for going to be hell on earth. They say the right stuff but ain't no God in them. When people become a means to an end, that's why some of y'all got to check your character. Blessings make sick people sicker. If I give an addict a million dollars, he will kill himself. Blessings make sick people sicker. That's why when God healed people, he made them whole. Whole and healing ain't the same thing. Healing fixes the issue. Whole fixes you. Fixes your heart, your character.
When we remember that pleasing God is more important than pleasing people, that's when we get transformation. This means that we embrace God's standards, not man's. God's standards, not man's.
We had a funeral at our church not too long ago, and young cats showed up—the whole hood showed up. They got their hats on. They're hurting. Nobody teaches us as young people how to deal with grief. The pastor got up and said, "All you young people take your hat off and respect the Lord." But at that moment, what's on their head ain't that deep. They may not even be at church the next day. I wish I could go back so bad. I would have said, "Excuse me. I'm so sorry. This ain't his church. He don't know no better. Put your hat on and sit down, sir. We don't do that at our house—we do respect. God bless you."
I made a decision: no more funerals at our church if we can't be in charge of them. Young people showed up—the whole neighborhood came. They were wearing their hats because they were hurting, and nobody teaches us as young people how to deal with grief. When a visiting pastor told them to remove their hats to respect the Lord, I realized something crucial.
At that moment, what's on their head isn't that deep. They may not even be at church the next day. I wish I could go back. I would have said, "Excuse me. I'm so sorry. This isn't his church—he doesn't know any better. Put your hat on and sit down, sir. We don't do that at our house. We do respect. God bless you."
Do you really think that hat is going to keep him out of heaven? Do you think he's going to get to the gate and God is going to say, 'I know you didn't lie, didn't cheat, didn't steal—but you had to wear that hat'?
When young people come in, I want to say, "God bless you, bro. I want your heart. The relationship means more."
For years, people wore white suits and had black hearts. I'm a pastor's son—son of a pastor and a bishop. The deacons would stand on the altar for communion, then go smoke outside. I would walk out and see Deacon so-and-so smoking, then he'd come back inside.
Now here comes a young person who just wants Jesus, and I have to tell them their pants are too tight. What if that's all they've got? If you don't like it, you take them shopping. This is backwards.
I can't wait to open this building so I can tell everybody: bring me your teenagers. We've got them. I want this room jam-packed with no chairs. I want lights, energy, this joint jumping. Just teams. They come, they eat. That's how we reach them.
We have to prioritize God over what we feel. I have to do a better job prioritizing my devotion time. Honestly, that's one of the weakest areas, one of the weakest disciplines I have—study time with God. Even when I'm reading the Bible just to read it, my mind starts getting a message, so I start preaching instead of just reading. It's hard sometimes to just read the Bible to read the Bible.
All of us have traded something of His way for something else. And just because He's using me doesn't mean I'm delivered.
Father, in Jesus' name, I pray for transformation—that You begin to do a work not from the outside in, but from the inside out. Make them the best version of themselves they can be.
They may never be all their spouse wants them to be. That's the issue their spouse has. But if they are all You called them to be, give them peace about that. God, You did not put me on this earth to meet their standards. You put me on this earth to live up to Your standards.
I don't have to be well off if I hear "well done." I don't have to be a billionaire—just give me more money than bills. Give me peace. Give me a stress-free life.
I surrender my heart. I surrender my mind. I surrender my soul. I surrender this church to You. I surrender my businesses to You. I surrender my children to You. I surrender my family to You, God. I don't give You that which I cannot handle—I give it all to You. Because the truth of the matter is, if You weren't with me, I couldn't handle any of it.
I thank You that You didn't let the stuff I did yesterday disqualify me today so I couldn't become who You're calling me to be tomorrow. If I had 10,000 tongues, I couldn't praise You enough. You've been better to me than I've been to myself. I don't just know You to be a way maker—I've experienced You being a way maker.
Just because you're gifted doesn't mean you're excluded. Sometimes our character just can't handle what we're given. If my character can't handle it, that's when I have to put people around me to hold me down and keep me together. Why? Because there's a weight that comes with it.
Maybe you're like me. My mind will start making me think people are talking about me, that people don't like me, that things are wrong—and I go into my shell. The moment I go into my shell, the devil has me. So I have to fight against that.
I sat down with my staff this week and asked: What do you turn to when life gets thick? What do you run to? One of them said food is their comfort—when anxiety or depression hits and they're feeling low, they get wings or ice cream. For me, my number one thing is nachos. If I get me some nachos, I'm in a better place instantly. Until I have to put some clothes on and realize what I wanted to wear doesn't fit anymore. Then I'm redepressed. So I run back to the nachos and I'm redepressed. Then I go buy some new jeans. I feel better about myself. They outgrow it. It's a cycle.
We cannot preach about transformation and then let somebody log off and just deal with everything they're feeling alone. If you need prayer, there's a link in the comments. We have a team waiting right now to pray with you on Zoom. You'll have your own room. We're starting something back this week, and we want to be responsible for people's spiritual journey—not just the sermon, but what comes after.
God has us right where He wants us. I'm going to speak this over your life: Holy boldness. That's a different level of boldness. I'm doing stuff now that I wouldn't have done before. Father God, I claim You for every single person watching this.
