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Let Them
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Over the last three weeks, we've introduced a phrase that sounds simple but lives deep: Let them. This is not resignation, sympathy, or apathy—it is what we call spiritual formation.
Many of us are exhausted not from obedience, but from overfunctioning. There is fresh wind, fresh oil, and fresh energy about to hit your life when you stop overfunctioning and just walk in obedience.
Overfunctioning is when we trade our peace for unnecessary pressure. We are tired from managing people's assumptions, from explaining or overexplaining ourselves, from correcting misunderstandings, from carrying emotional weight that God never assigned us. Many of us are exhausted simply because we've been doing too much.
The danger you face is not burnout alone. The danger many of us are about to face is that unmanaged reactions begin to shape who we are becoming. When you overfunction, you tend to lead into unmanaged reactions, and as you begin to react without discernment, you put your destiny at risk.
Overfunctioning is doing more than God asked in order to avoid feeling what God is trying to heal. You see hurt getting ready to come your way, so you overfunction, overdo, overexplain, over hustle, overthink. You go hard trying your best to shield yourself from what you feel may hurt you. You're so busy trying to keep people because you don't want to deal with the pain of losing them—and you don't realize God sometimes heals you by hurting you. You don't realize God is trying to heal the part of you that having them is numbing.
Overfunctioning is not diligence or excellence. It is anxiety masquerading as obedience.
God called you to be a good person, to be a Christian, to love the unlovable and provide for those in need. The problem is you are overfunctioning or being more to people that God never assigned to you. It is possible that if milk, food, and your battery can have an expiration date, so can someone's assignment in your life. We have to stop living in a place where people walk around assuming that their spot in your life is forever.
You cannot act any way, treat others any kind of way, not come through, not help people become who God called them to be, and assume you get to stay next to them. In this season, many of us are done overfunctioning, allowing people to get the best of us while giving us the least of them. Your emergency is not our urgency.
If you haven't been walking in what God has called you to be, this will be the season where the weight gets lifted—not because you're getting an attitude or being selfish, but because you finally woke up and realized not just who you are, but who you are to be to the people you have in your life.
Control is the currency of fear. How do we keep fear alive? Through control—by thinking we can control not just people but outcomes. When fear speaks, control responds. Every time you reach for control, you withdraw intimacy from God.
Trust requires space, and overfunctioning leaves no room for God to move. Why is that important? Because overfunctioning is often rooted in unhealed identity. We try to be everything to everyone, trying to get everything done. We're trying to be the greatest in every area—the greatest pastor, greatest artist, greatest father, greatest husband, greatest friend, greatest boss. But God says, "You're not going to be great because you do a lot of it. You're going to be great when you discern which seasons you have to function as which. I'm not asking you to stop being you. I'm just asking you to give me control of when you be you."
Many of us stay busy because rest feels unsafe. Silence feels threatening. Slowing down would force us to feel what we have been avoiding. Productivity becomes a hiding place.
Overfunctioning whispers that if you stop, you lose value. But God never called you to be indispensable, only available. You wonder: If I stop, will I still be hot? If I don't drop music during this time, will I lose my juice? If I stop coming through for them, will they find another friend? If I take a break, I'm finally going to have to deal with the pain I've been burying.
Many people stay busy trying their best to outrun what they're going to have to eventually face.
When people ask how you're doing, the first thing you do is tell them what you're doing. But you cannot hide behind your accomplishments. Your value is not proven by your usefulness. The greatest freedom that came in 2025 was realizing that the value of who you are is not proven by your usefulness. You are not valued just because you preach well, sing well, or always show up. You are valued when you know who you are and whose you are.
Jesus slept in the storm not because the storm was small, but because his identity was settled. When your worth rises and falls with your output, you are living from survival instead of sonship. When your worth rises and falls based on how much you produce, you're living on survival, not sonship.
I tell my boys to take the trash out, and sometimes they don't do it. I get frustrated. But here's what I told them: when you get up, feed your sister, put some clothes on. I didn't stop feeding them. I never ceased clothing them. I never stopped talking to them. Because when it comes to God, his love for you is not based on your output. You are a son or daughter of God. You are not in survival mode.
Too many people in your life have you feeling like the only value you bring is your production. If you stopped, would they still love you? If you couldn't give them money, would they still ride with you? If you couldn't be there like you used to, would they still be there?
I'm writing manifestos in my life right now—pastoral manifestos, family manifestos, music manifestos. In my artist manifesto, one thing that blessed me was: I come first. When I create, I do not create for the audience. I create for myself. I create music that heals me. And in being faithful to my healing, it blesses people. Because if all I do is create for you, this is not art. That's commerce.
I've applied this to my relationships and life. Too much of my life was centered on where we're going to eat, what we're doing this weekend, what we're going to be next year. This is the season of your life where you have to aggressively put you first. Putting you first is not selfish.
Obedience to God produces peace, but overfunctioning produces pressure. A lot of the pressure you feel right now is because you're overfunctioning. I was speaking with someone about two days ago. They were talking about the pressure and thinking about starting another hustle, putting in more hours, starting another business. I asked them one question that almost brought them to tears: "How much of that pressure financially is just yours?"
The pressure you feel to provide for everybody has you feeling like you're not enough. Many of us are exhausted not because God is demanding too much, but because we are trying to control what God never asked us to manage.
I have people in my life and I tell them all the time: I'm going to do all I can to help you grow your church, but I can't make your church big. I'm going to do all I can to help with your music, but I can't make you a star. I'm going to do all I can to help with your relationship, but I can't make you happy. For you to allow me to feel that pressure and know I feel it and be comfortable with me bearing that pressure means you may not be my assignment.
Our 2026 vision is Become. Become is not about existing but evolving. There are too many people comfortable existing. God is calling you to evolve. Become is not controlling outcomes; it's surrendering actions. And even when you release outcomes, you still have to decide who you are becoming when people resist, misunderstand, and oppose you.
Look at Luke 4:28: "When they heard this, the people in the synagogue were furious. Jumping up, they mobbed him and forced him to the edge of the hill which the town was built on. They intended to push him over the cliff."
This moment matters more than we realize. This is not the crucifixion. This is not the end of Jesus's ministry. This is the beginning. Jesus had just read Isaiah 61 in front of people. He walks up, opens the Bible, and begins to read. When he finishes, he says, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." In other words, Jesus publicly names who he is and what he was sent to do.
Listen to what he read:
"The spirit of the sovereign Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He sent me to comfort the broken heart. He sent to proclaim the captives will be released and the prisoners will be freed. He has sent me to tell all those who mourn that the time of the Lord's favor has come and with it the day of God's anger against my enemies. To all who mourn in Israel, he will give you a crown of beauty for your ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise or a garment of praise for a spirit of heaviness. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory."
They're in church. Jesus opens up the Bible and Isaiah 61, verses 1-3 begins to read it. Then he says, "Today that scripture has been fulfilled." In other words, what you've all been reading all this time is now standing in front of you. You would think they would praise God. But their response is rage.
Why do they get upset? Because they knew him. They didn't get mad because the word wasn't real. They got mad because they were familiar with him. They were comfortable with the version of him that they grew up with. They thought, "Surely you can't be about to deliver me when we come from the same place."
A lot of people in your life can't stand you—not because the version of you that's about to be blessed bothers them, but they can't take the fact that you all come from the same place and God's doing something different with you.
They could tolerate Jesus as a carpenter. They could not take him as the Messiah. They could take him as a carpenter. They could not take him as the Messiah. In 2026, people are about to wake up. The version of you that they were comfortable with is not the version of you that you are becoming.
You liked me when we had to borrow from each other. I'm getting ready to be the lender. You liked me when I needed to sleep on your couch, but I'm getting ready to have my own situation. I will be the head and not the tail, lender and not the borrower, above and not beneath.
The more clear you become, the less company you'll keep. But this is not about losing people. This is about losing confusion. I can't remember people I've lost that were a loss. If anything, I lost confusion.
Every loss doesn't mean they're no longer present. We're quick to think that because a person isn't around, you lost them. You're losing people in your face. Jesus lost Peter and he was present. "Aren't you the one who was with him?" "I never knew him." Peter, you're the one who was walking with him. "I never knew him."
We're quick to dismiss Judas because he betrayed Jesus. But we ride with Peter when Peter was lost in his presence. I would almost argue Judas benefited Jesus more than Peter. Judas got Jesus to the cross. Peter was in the way. Jesus is trying to get to the cross, and Peter cuts a man's ear off. Jesus looks at Peter and says, "Chill. This is a part of the assignment." He picks up the ear and touches the man's head. Judas kisses him and goes on about his business.
At 42, I now understand that some of the people who hurt me the worst were actually trying to help me. And the people who helped me grow were the people who hurt me. You're so busy talking about who left you, but you don't realize that when they left, something in you grew.
The Bible consistently reveals a pattern to us: God reduces your crowd before he releases your calling. He reduces your crowd before he releases your calling. Please put this in your notes for 2026: Talk to God before you make your assignment a group project. Just because you like them doesn't mean they're assigned to you.
In the synagogue at Nazareth, when Jesus preaches, the people mob him and force him to the edge of a hill, intending to push him over the cliff. Luke is doing more than giving us geography—he's exposing a pattern. They did not kill him immediately; they pushed him to the edge.
The enemy uses the edge to see if you will let pressure push you out of position. He pushes you to the edge because he can't take you out, so he tries to get you to walk out. He'll have your relationship so stressed that you feel like you're on the edge, and before you know it, right before God comes through, you walk out.
Let me break this down for you:
The enemy applies external pressure designed to displace you from a God-given position that was established by assignment.
When you get to the edge, you should be shouting. That is proof you're on the verge. The devil does not push people who aren't destined to edges. He leaves them alone. The edge is where identity is tested. The edge is where reaction is invited. The edge is the place where fear speaks the loudest. Because who you are becoming is not formed in comfort—it's revealed at the edge.
Jesus does not panic at the edge. Luke gives us one sentence that changed everything for me: Jesus passed right through the crowd. Notice Luke does not tell us that the crowd moved. Luke doesn't say the crowd stopped. He just tells us they were yelling, pressuring, trying to talk to him. But Jesus knew who he was.
Jesus never stopped to explain himself to anybody. All he did was walk through it. Nowhere in scripture does it say the crowd moved. It just said Jesus passed through. Your enemies, your haters, and the devil can't do nothing with you when you walk like you know who you are.
You're so busy arguing and overexplaining to people who are just in your way. This will be the year. I'm telling five people and telling them: Walk through it.
What if who God is calling you to become in 2026 is directly tied to your ability to keep walking through what people are trying to talk you out of? Walk through it. Walk through it. Walk through it.
When you are clear, you don't need consensus. When you are sure what God is calling you to do, you don't need a lot of affirmation. I reached a place where I don't need to ask people what they think. I'm locked in with God right now.
The reason you keep stuttering when you should be walking is because you're trying to get everybody on one accord to say it's God. I don't need you to tell me it's God if I know it's God. What I need is not consensus—I need courage.
Right now I'm making major decisions concerning my life, my boys, my family. I'm trusting my discernment. I'm looking at patterns from people. I'm hearing what people don't say. I'm watching how people move. And in my heart, there's no conversation with everybody. Once God gives me the green light, we move. All I need is courage.
I told my son Mace two scriptures. In Genesis, God tells Joshua, "If you stand still, I'm going to be with you." But then he also says, "But if you go, I'mma be with you." When you are favored and anointed, regardless of what you do, God will either be with you here or he will go with you there.
Too many of you are worried because you don't want to move and don't want to be what God called you to be because you keep saying, "I'll do it when my team gets on the court." You don't need the team when you got God. God will bless you by yourself and then put the pieces around you. You need to become what he's calling you to be.
Let me break down the word courage for you. C-O-U-R-A-G-E. Now let me spell rage. R-A-G-E.
You are walking around mad, angry, losing your mind, irritated, because you know what you should be doing. You know your season is up. You know it's time for you to be who God called you to be. But because you ain't got the courage to walk, now you're walking in rage.
This is not the season for consensus. You know the truth. You don't need nobody else to tell you you're the truth. You know you're blessed. You've seen the difference you make in people's lives. Folk are better when they're with you.
I need you to walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, it's tough. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's unpredictable. But if God be for me, who can be against me?
Jesus models what it looks like to stay thorned when people are furious. He gives us three ways to practice letting them.
Jesus did not fight to win the argument. Nowhere in scripture did Jesus argue with them. He let them win the argument. Jesus let them go at home feeling like they won, but they lost him.
Sometimes the greatest discipline God uses is distance. Let them lose the version of you they prefer. Let them lose the seat at the table you have for them in the future. Everybody cannot have access to who you're becoming. I did not say who you are—I said who you're becoming.
If you keep stepping in to save people from discomfort, confusion, or consequences, you interrupt what God is trying to teach them. You know what I'm going to do? I'mma let you lose. I'm going to let you lose with who you think you're going to win with.
I used to be on the phone all night: "Come on, brother. Don't do that. You got a good one. Come on, sis." Then the Holy Spirit was like, "Maybe they need to lose each other. Sometimes you don't realize what you had."
Not everyone needs correction. Some people need experience. That's heavy.
I was labeled overbearing because I was trying to make sure everybody got it right the first time. Then it hit me: Certain people don't need correction. They need experience. Jesus did not stop to teach a class on misunderstanding. He let life become their lesson.
Some people will only understand after they mishandle you, after they misjudge you, and after they miss what God was doing through you the whole time. Learning often comes after loss, not before clarity.
Jesus trusted that truth does not need immediate agreement to remain true. Many of us spend too much time trying to make people understand because we feel like it ain't true if they don't agree. Truth does not need immediate agreement. Stop trying to be understood by people who are committed to misunderstanding you.
They keep saying I'm trying to take over. I'm trying to keep you from killing everybody who ain't as strong as me. They say I'm mean because I'm direct. But the others smile and talk about you behind your back. I'm the one who says, "Hey, y'all messing up." So now I'm mean because I'm the only one telling you the truth. So I'mma let you experience.
Jesus walked through the crowd knowing some of those people would never follow him again. I don't think you caught that. Jesus walks in the synagogue, opens the Bible, reads Isaiah 61. He ends by saying, "And today it has been fulfilled." They jump up and mob him, trying to push him off a cliff.
Jesus looks at the cliff because he wants them to see that what they did to others doesn't affect him. And he doesn't say anything to them. What does he do? He passes through.
Jesus walked through the crowd knowing some of those people would never follow him again. Y'all might not ever be friends again. Your choosing obedience may make y'all never talk again. You're more loyal to trying to save them than being obedient.
Letting them leave is not bitterness. It is obedience without attachment.
There are people I lost in my ministry, people I lost in leadership last year that mean the world to me. Everything in me wants to say, "Let's fix it. What do I need to do for you?" But then the Holy Spirit says, "No, let them."
I had a spiritual son, Tristan, who was with me for 16 years. He was at every service—if I did six services a week, he was at all six, praying at all six. That's 79,000 services. One day he said, "Pastor, I just need a break." The Holy Spirit said the same thing to me that I say when people go to college. I said, "Tristan, go get you a break. I'm be right here. I'm still going to check on you and love you." Now he's got a job, traveling, making more money, doing his thing. And when I sit back and watch it, I'm so proud of you. His breakthrough is deeper than me needing an intercessor. That's why I sit back like I'm so proud of you.
When people leave your life, it's not always a sign that something is wrong. People leaving isn't always a sign that something's wrong with y'all. You might think leaving is a fight, but what if it's actually a pull? What if God isn't fighting against you—He's pulling people toward something better for them?
Consider this: God is constantly expanding His kingdom. When 400,000 people watched church last week across multiple platforms and 50 states, the needs change. What if someone you needed as an intercessor is actually being positioned to become a chief intercessor—someone who can teach leadership and prayer on a scale you never imagined? What if they had to leave your immediate circle to gain skills in the corporate world that would ultimately benefit the kingdom in ways your church alone couldn't provide?
If you only see who you need people to be instead of who God wants them to be, you don't do them a service. The temptation is to hold on so tightly to what someone means to you that you miss God's greater assignment for them.
There's a crucial distinction you must learn: You don't know who to fight for and who to wave at. Many of us are stuck because we can't discern the difference.
In your own life, let this be your measuring stick:
You might think you only fight for people God loves. That's not true. Sometimes you fight because God is trying to show you something about yourself. Other times, you wave because God gives you a deeper vision for what's ahead. Sometimes God does not remove people. He just repositions them.
I learned this painfully with my own brother. When we first started church, we were growing rapidly. Then my brother left, and we went through conflict. I wasn't mature enough to navigate the complexity of being both a younger brother and a pastor to him on staff. I simply shut down instead of communicating.
We separated, but here's what happened: through that separation, I got my brother back. Now we're past the need for titles and positions. We're back to being brothers—talking, laughing, just being together. The healthiest aspect of our current partnership is that leaving taught us how to appreciate each other.
That's why I can tell you with confidence: Do not chase people God is freeing you from. God often clears the path by clearing the people. This is the most practical thing I'm going to say to you today. Be ready for a shift in your relationships. You're going to be friends with people you never thought you would be friends with, and you won't be talking to people you once thought were essential.
You do not get to pick who's in the assignment. God does.
Jesus modeled this perfectly. Luke tells us, "But he passed right through the crowd and went on his own way." Do you understand what that means? Some of the same people who tried to stop Him had to watch Him continue. They told Him He was lying, yet they still had to watch Him heal others, grow in influence, and perform miracles.
Jesus did not slow down. He did not explain. He did not negotiate his identity. Why? Because when God is forming who you are becoming, your responsibility is not to manage other people's reactions. Your responsibility is to keep moving.
When loneliness hits you because you're taking a stand for God, keep moving. Don't let the isolation paralyze you.
I had a powerful conversation at Starbucks recently. A man approached me and said, "Pastor Mike, them become nights have been good, ain't it?" At first, he admitted, he and his wife only watched online. They weren't comfortable coming in person—after all, they would be one of the few. But something in him said, "If that's what God is speaking to me, I'm going to stand still. I'm going to be what God says."
He taught me something valuable. Years ago at Yale Divinity School, I felt utterly alone in those massive classrooms—one of five students who looked like me. The Holy Spirit told me, "I need you to keep going through it." Now, young people are finding me and saying, "I heard you preach and I looked up Yale Divinity because of you." They're pursuing paths they might not have considered otherwise.
This is what happens when you lead the way: You catch the revelation ahead of your circle. You're the Peter—the one blazing the trail. But here's the danger: If you spend too much time talking to the crowd about why you're moving, you'll never keep moving.
Some of you feel ahead of your family because you are. You've caught something others haven't yet. That feeling of being different, of walking a path others don't understand—that's not a problem. That's your calling.
You need the courage to walk through a lion's den. The courage to walk through a fiery furnace. In our time, it's the courage to not be invited to certain functions. It's the courage to realize you might not be in that text thread, but who you're becoming in God won't just change your life—it's going to change the lives of everyone connected to you.
Father, I pray for a remnant rising who simply want to be what You called them to be. Not by power, not by might, but by Your spirit, they are becoming who You called them to be. Give us the courage to walk this path, even when we walk it alone. We give You all honor and glory. In Jesus' name.
