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Part 15 of 19COURAGE TO COMMIT VOL. 2
The Principle of Honor
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Part 15 of 19COURAGE TO COMMIT VOL. 2
The Principle of Honor
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
We are in the midst of a series entitled Courage to Commit Volume Two. Each week, we're giving you a key—principles of God that unlock the promises of God.
The Principle of Generosity — A heart that is willing to give leads to a life that freely gives. The question I ask you: Are you willing? Willingness is critical. As I've discovered through conversations with my own children about sharing what they have, generosity isn't just about material things—it's about recognizing that everything we have comes from God's provision. If God never sleeps nor slumbers, if He's protecting you while you rest, protecting you from devils and demons, if He's working constantly for your benefit—are you truly unwilling to give Him anything in return?
The Principle of Mindset — What I believe about me often determines what I believe about God.
The Principle of Multiplication — God did not create us simply to maintain, but to multiply.
The Principle of Freedom — Freedom is not doing whatever you want to do, but doing what you were created to do.
The Principle of Partnership — Trusting the wrong people will make you worse, but trusting the right people will help you win.
The Principle of Transformation — My gift will change others, but my character will change me.
The Principle of the Pick — Who you choose to be in your life will either be an asset or an assault.
You need to do an inventory of your life and ask God: Am I an asset or am I an assault?
An asset is something that increases, something that benefits. A liability is something that causes depreciation. But here's what's critical to understand: an assault is different. An assault always causes harm to somebody else. So when we talk about the principle of the pick and whether you're an asset or an assault, the assault isn't on you presently—it's on you futuristically.
When you become an assault to your future, you step into your future and beat your future down. So your present is pleased, but your future is dead. This is why your present becomes unbearable: your present self is happy, but you've killed your future self. As days pass and you move into the future, you keep looking like the present. Something inside you is frustrated because time changed, but you didn't.
You might want to think about what you're doing in June, because the November version of you ain't going to like it. The future me is going to thank the present me. This is why I pray in my present—because the future me is getting ready to walk in overflow. This is why I tithe in my present—because the future me has jobs, better jobs, and multiple streams of income coming.
I'm not praising God for who I am right now. I'm praising God for who I'm about to be. This is a futuristic retrospective praise—I've walked into 2025, looked back to 2022 and 2023, and I'm saying, "Thank you now for who I'm about to be tomorrow."
There's something I'm respecting in this season: I choose me. I don't have to put up with your toxicity. I've discovered that some poisons kill you instantly, but certain poisons kill you over time. We tend to be bold with things we know will kill us today, but we play with things that will kill us tomorrow.
If I master the principle of the pick, then God's going to teach me about the principle of the breakthrough.
Breakthrough is not when you go to the next level, but when God shows you why you are stuck on your now level. I prophesy to someone: breakthrough is not coming. Breakthrough is here.
The Principle of Discernment — I now have the ability to recognize the difference between what's dead and what's dormant.
The Principle of the Detour — God can use an undesired route to get you to a desired result.
How I express the value of others determines if I experience favor or famine. Let this sink in. This is enough to shift your whole life.
There is a critical difference between an appraisal and an opinion. An appraisal is an expert assessment of a thing in comparison to things like it. When a house is appraised, the appraiser looks at comparable properties—the house down the street, the house on the other street—and scores it accordingly.
This principle applies to you. Who's on your left and who's on your right matters. You could be a million-dollar individual, but if you're hanging with $100 people, they bring down your value. That's why I have to cut certain people off. That's why certain circles I can't be in. That's why certain friends I can't hang around. It's not that I'm bougie, stuck up, arrogant, or saditti—I respect my own value. This is called a comp.
Before you live based off how somebody feels about you, you must determine: Are they an expert in this area?
If certain people have filmed movies, worked on sets, been in the entertainment industry, they understand things about production, about trailers, about the value of different roles—things that someone outside that world cannot assess. When experts show up on a film set and they're given certain accommodations—a trailer, a personal assistant, catering—that tells you the value of that role and that movie.
Just because someone is an expert in this area doesn't make them an expert in that area. So when someone says, "I don't like your business plan," your response might be, "What have you built? Thank you for your opinion." Too many people stall and stop because they are honoring opinions and devaluing appraisals.
When I walk with an expert—someone who knows what they're doing, someone with real expertise—I can walk with boldness, not because I know it all, but because my partner knows it. So I can walk bold because I'm walking with somebody who has an expert assessment. Because I value their expertise, I show honor.
The principle of honor suggests: how I express the value of others determines if I experience favor or famine.
Favor is when God interrupts what the devil had planned to flip the situation. Famine is when God lets what's happening happen. Favor is when He sends water. I used to think favor was when He turned on the water and famine was when He turned off the water. But the older I get, I realize I'm in charge of turning the water on and off through my own actions and choices. God is not the water company in my house—if I pay the bill, I control the water.
But famine? Famine is when God cuts off the supply. When famine hit Egypt, even the king starved. When famine hits biblically, it doesn't matter where you live or what you drive. The only difference between a king hungry in his palace and servants hungry outside is geography. Famine doesn't care.
Here's what's profound: famine is never singular—it's always plural. If you don't have it, it's called hungry. If we ain't got it, it's called famine.
So I'm showing you this: if you walk in dishonor, you cut off supply for everybody. But if you walk in honor, because of you, everybody gets a breakthrough.
When I walk in favor, I get blessed. Because of my favor, people get blessed. But when famine comes, it hurts everybody.
Look at what's happened over the last 30 years. Ricky Lake showed people how to argue. Jerry Springer showed people how to fight. Maury showed people they weren't family. Reality TV put strangers in a house to expose chaos. Then social media came and let everyone troll anyone. For the last 30 years, they've been systematically teaching us dishonor.
They systematically taught us dishonor through entertainment. Ricky Lake taught people how to argue. Jerry Springer taught people how to fight. Maury taught people they weren't family. Reality TV put strangers in a house to expose chaos. Then social media came and made it possible for anyone to troll anyone else. For the last 30 years, they've been systematically teaching us dishonor.
Now I'm going to free you from something. If you watch Love and Hip Hop, Real Housewives, or any similar show, and the women honor each other, you say out loud, "This season ain't good." But if they get on TV and attack each other, you say, "Oh, that was good." The culture is training us to be turned on by dishonor. It's difficult to build honor in our hearts when dishonor has built our homes and our lives. I was birthed from dishonor. I was entertained by dishonor.
We live in a culture that celebrates dishonor. People are looking for a reason to disagree so they can disrespect. Dishonor is so embedded in the culture now that even basic courtesies seem strange. When you say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir," people look at you oddly. When you open a door for someone, they wonder if you're trying to talk to them. When you say "love you" to people around you, they don't know how to respond.
Honor is the key that unlocks favor's door. In a world full of dishonor and disrespect, this message is not just a title—it's a declaration. I'm different because I understand this principle.
When I attend events and work with people, I make it my practice to show honor. When anyone opens a door for me, I say thank you. If someone gives me water or a peppermint, I say thank you. Before leaving anywhere, everyone gets a hug and my gratitude. People have told me, "Man, you've been the best person I ever worked with. You and your team—thank you so much."
You will never make a difference until you're willing to be different. Your destiny is in your difference. Your wealth is in your difference. Your breakthrough is in your difference. You can't even make a difference if you aren't willing to be different.
Difference and honor are closely assessed. When I pledged in college, I learned the word "deference"—and deference is honor. Difference is respect. When my pledging mentor would say "difference," it meant he went first. It taught me what honor was. In order to get destiny, my destiny is locked inside my ability to be different. And I am different because I show deference, which is honor.
We often limit honor to being a ministry term or something you give to authority figures. Honor is a kingdom key that equips you in every area of your life. You will not increase in places that you do not honor. I'm going to say that again: you will not increase in places that you do not honor.
Even money shows honor. When our keyboardist Stefano drives from Atlanta to serve with us, we give him an honorarium—cash or a check—because we respect his gift. When it gets late and he's sacrificed his time, honor from me means making sure he has a hotel room so he doesn't have to drive back late. That's honor.
Some people think, "I already paid him—let him get his own room." But understand this: excess honor may show you excess favor. Tithing is not honor; tithing is obedience. Tithing is what you're supposed to do. Offerings are honor. A tithe says, "I respect what you told me to do." An offering says, "I honor you."
There are three critical principles to remember:
You will not increase in places that you do not honor. If you come to someone's house and act disrespectfully—taking your shoes off and kicking them everywhere, not flushing the restroom, getting food without asking, putting your feet on furniture, being loud—they won't invite you back. Yet you want a promotion at work. You showed up late, acted a fool, were messy, talked inappropriately, and now you're asking God for promotion. You wouldn't have needed to pray for that if you had shown honor.
You will not increase with people that you do not honor. My goal is that anyone who's ever worked for me, even if we part ways amicably, can say, "But he honored me. He always told me I was the best in the world. It wasn't just lip service—every major opportunity he had, he tried his best to usher me into that area if it could bless me." When I took my team member Terrell to Nashville for a meeting, afterward I brought him into the room with executives from across the world so he could be part of that experience. Now everywhere we go, people say, "We could tell y'all was Rock City because we could see that you honor each other."
You will not increase with things that you do not honor. If you show up to work at 8 and arrive at 8:50, you didn't honor the time.
Honor is when I purposefully choose to see you like God sees you. More specifically: honor is when I purposefully choose to see you how God sees you in my life and assignment. You can see someone as valuable, but the value they bring to you might not be the same value they bring to others. So it's personal.
To me, Rod—my musician—is a $50 million person. From day one, I said, "No, he's different." Every other musician I brought in didn't work because I was dishonoring them without even knowing it. I would bring them in and say, "I want you to be like Rod." Imagine dating someone and they tell you, "I want you to be like Kesha." Well, you need to go get Kesha.
I see Rod's value. He's the coldest keyboard player I've ever seen in my life. He programs, he produces. So anything he does that frustrates me, it frustrates me deeply because I see it through the lens of my appraisal. If any other person sits at that keyboard and misses a note, I look at them differently because my personal assessment of Rod is that he can elevate every aspect of my life. When he plays my music goes to another level. When he plays my message goes to another level.
That's why when we get off a tour bus anywhere in the world, I'm getting his bag for him, even though I have gout and back problems. We're walking through the airport together like that because he's invaluable to me. I choose to honor him.
Some of you are frustrated because people fuss at you. But maybe they're fussing not because they dislike you, but because they really value you. Sometimes the only way people can express their value is through frustration.
Consider Matthew 13:57-58. Jesus told them: "A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown among his own family." And so he did only a few miracles there. Every place Jesus went, he showed out except where he was from. The place he was from was familiar. Family sometimes equals familiarity, so you often lack honor in places where people are familiar with you.
Family knew his issues. Strangers only saw his gift. His family knew he was crazy, but strangers only saw how good he prayed, how good he sang, how good he baked, how good he cooked. What we've discovered is that because they did not properly value him, it limited what he could do.
The scripture says in verse 58—five being the number of grace and favor, eight being the number of new beginning—we see a code to favor and new beginnings. If you want favor and new beginnings, give honor. If you do not have honor, your favor and new beginnings will be limited.
When there is no honor in life, you will be confronted with labels, lids, and limitations. When honor is low, faith is slow. What was available for all was only given to a few. Because of the lack of honor, it created a system of unbelief. Everyone showed up wanting something, but because there was so much dishonor in the room, what could have happened for everybody only happened for a few people. Dishonor breeds unbelief.
When I dishonor you, what I'm really saying is I don't believe in you. When I don't believe in you, what you are able to produce cannot be produced because of my disbelief—and the root of that disbelief is my dishonor. The problem was not his power, but their perspective.
Let me ask you some hard questions: Is she driving you crazy because you haven't honored her? Is she frustrated because there's no honor in the relationship? Ladies, does he hate coming home because there's no honor? Does he have to fight all day in the street and then fight at home? If you beat a dog long enough, he's going to stop coming when you call him.
Your dog goes crazy when you get in the driveway because of your honor. The moment they hear that lock, they know that no matter how lonely they've been all day, the first thing that happens when you walk in is honor.
What if God wants to use your pain to flip your perspective? First Chronicles 4:9 tells us: "Jabez was more honorable than his brothers." His mother said, "I'm going to name you Jabez because I bore you with pain." Birthing him was so painful that his mother named him after the pain. Jabez means sorrowful, pain, grief.
In the book of Chronicles, there are 600 genealogies—name after name of who begat whom. Out of 600 families throughout the Hebraic family tree in 1 Chronicles chapter 4, Jabez shifted his entire bloodline. Out of every person listed, suddenly we see somebody different. God gives him two specific verses. 600 families are represented in Chronicles with no background, just genealogy after genealogy. Then out of nowhere, it says Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.
Jabez is a descendant of Judah. Judah translates to mean praise. So Jabez comes from praise, but he's known for prayer. We call it the prayer of Jabez. But he's a descendant of praise. Jabez is armed with praise and prayer. And any real believer knows you need both. Why? Praise will get the blessing, but prayer will show you how to keep the blessing.
Praise will get the blessing, but prayer will show you how to keep the blessing. This is why so many people lose what God has given them—they have praise without prayer.
When praises go up, blessings come down. But when you pray, they stay around. Many church folk shout because they're shocked the blessing showed up at all. But you can praise God while it's on the way and pray that God keeps it in your life.
In 2023, the focus must shift: less praise, more prayer. You don't have to shout like you didn't think it would happen. You can honor God while receiving His blessing and praying it remains.
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. We highlight his prayer, but we overlook the man who prayed. What if God hasn't answered certain prayers because you're praying the right prayer but committed to being the wrong person?
Honor in Hebrew is kabad. It has multiple dimensions:
If honor means to make weighty and anointing means to make fat (to expand), then anointing and honor go hand in hand. Any person who is anointed but lacks honor will be abusive. It's like someone who works out with a big top and no legs—the balance is missing.
Gifted people are often difficult to deal with because they fall in love with their anointing and think it exempts them from operating in honor. This is why many gifted people are the worst to deal with.
Honor and ignorance are not the same. When you choose not to know your worth, you're being ignorant. When you choose to know your worth but still humble yourself, that's honor. Many people get taken advantage of not because they're honorable, but because they're ignorant of their value.
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers because he carried more weight. The more weight you carry, the more opportunities for God to get glory. What if God keeps adding weight to you because He's validating you for glory? What if the test is whether you can carry it without complaining, without changing, without being consumed by it?
Can you be so anointed that you don't become consumed with your anointing? Can you be so gifted that you don't become consumed with your giftedness? Can you be so prophetic that you don't become absorbed in your prophetic ability? Many people will never become what God called them to be because they lack honor.
When purchasing a building, the realtor said, "The way you honored them, they just always respected that." Even with items left behind—graduation photos and belongings—showing honor meant carefully storing them so the previous owners could retrieve them. This wasn't just politeness; it was honor. And it made a difference in how they were treated.
If you don't honor the giver, you reap what you sow. A lack of honor is blocking many people from their breakthrough. Because Jabez had honor, he had the ability to truly pray.
Jabez's mother did not honor her baby—she labeled him. "I'm going to name you Jabez because I bore you with pain." Every time he introduced himself, he told his mother's story. He carried a label he didn't choose.
This is a generational curse. His mother made him walk around for the rest of his life wearing what she felt. He had nothing to do with the pain of his birth, yet he was defined by it.
We do this constantly. We label things toxic when they just made us mad in that moment. We label our children, our situations, ourselves—and they carry those labels forever.
No more labels. You are not what you've been named. You are what God says you are. Broke is not your label. Anxiety will not be your label. Fear will not be your label. Divorce will not be your label.
Every family has generational cycles—some verbally labeled, some spiritually labeled. When you get a last name, it often comes with associations: a crazy one, a drunk one, a divorced one, an anxious one, a foolish one. You determine which one you become. If you don't live by design, you'll live by default and end up looking like labels you didn't pick.
His mother put a lid on him before he could even get an identity. "Your wife will call you pain. Your children will call you pain. Your friends will call you pain. Your brothers will call you pain. That's all you will ever be."
But the coldest part of his prayer is often overlooked. When Jabez prays, he doesn't try to be something he hasn't been. His first word is, "Oh." He enters into prayer based on what he's had to live with. His prayer starts with acknowledging pain, then moves to blessing: "Oh, that you would bless me indeed. Enlarge my territory. Your hand might be with me. That you would keep me from harm and not pain me."
God granted him what he requested—not just because he prayed it, but because he was honorable.
Who you're under can limit who you become. Leadership sets the ceiling for what's possible. The lid placed on you by family, authority, or circumstance can restrict your potential. But honor breaks those lids and opens new possibilities.
Think of a grocery store: all cereals are on the cereal aisle, but different brands help you choose. Your last name is like that aisle label—it indicates a category, a type. There might be a "crazy McClure," a "drunk McClure," a "divorced McClure," an "anxious McClure," a "foolish McClure," a "rich McClure." You determine which one you become.
When movers pack boxes, they read the label to know how to treat the contents. If it says "pillows," they throw it. If it says "fine china," they handle it with care. If you don't label yourself, people will mistreat you. If you label it, it tells them how to treat you, how to love you, what you're worth.
You need to declare your label. "I'm blessed in the city, blessed in the field, blessed when I come, blessed when I go. Overflow has my name on it. I'm a generational trendsetter." If you don't label it, you'll lose it.
The label determines the brand and its purpose. Brooks shoes aren't Nike, Adidas, or Under Armour—they're functional, not fashionable. They provide arch support for people who stand all day. They're the choice of nurses, doctors, and people in demanding roles.
The question is: Will you be functional or fashionable? Will you look good or be good? Many people choose to look good instead of being good. But if your foundation is solid, if you have the right support, you can walk through your assignment without pain.
Interestingly, most pictures in sporting goods stores feature Brooks shoes—because somebody understands the value of function over appearance.
When looking at this church right now, don't see empty seats—see answered prayers. See screens, lights, talented people, and provision. These are answered prayers. My prayer for you isn't a house or a car—I'm praying God answers every prayer you prayed out of honor.
Honor + proper labeling of yourself + breaking the lids placed on you = answered prayers and a life of purpose.
Who you're under can limit who you become. This principle applies to the structures and systems we build, the people we surround ourselves with, and the frameworks within which we operate.
When I look at this church, I envision departments working throughout the building. I want a whole team dedicated to calling every person in our church every single day—not to ask for money, but simply to check in: "Hey, we're just checking on you. How's everything going?" I want every member to feel loved, needed, and known. They need to understand that they matter to us.
Honor isn't just a spiritual concept—it's a practical force that changes everything. The places in your life where you're stuck often lack honor. The question isn't primarily whether you'll give your life to Christ, though that matters most. The real question is: Where are you dishonoring God in your life?
Consider the gifts God has placed in your hands. If you don't use them for the body of Christ, you're dishonoring God. If you can sing but choose not to, who misses out? If you have the ability to create but keep it to yourself, who's deprived? If you can flip houses and someone just lost theirs and needs shelter, and you refuse to help, you're dishonoring God.
God didn't equip you to be arrogant or to hoard your gifts. He gave you those abilities for a purpose—to bless others, to serve, to build up the body of Christ.
Honor takes the limits off. When you honor God with your gifts, your time, and your resources, limitations disappear. But dishonor creates barriers that keep you stuck.
I recently lost one of my best members, Deacon Lester. He passed away this morning. When he got sick a couple weeks ago, Terrell, Tiffany, and I went to his house the day after Easter. We served communion, sat with him, and prayed. He laughed and talked with us. His wife had us all laughing. He loved her so much he positioned his hospital bed right next to hers, just to be close. It was such an honor to be in that moment, to hear him say, "Pastor, thank you." That's the impact of honor.
There's something the Holy Spirit has been dealing with me about, and I believe it affects many of us: If you grew up in church, you may have learned to devalue yourself.
When someone compliments your singing or your gifts, don't immediately diminish it by saying, "Oh, it's all God." No. You can say, "Thank you. I'm gifted." You can acknowledge your talent without arrogance. God won't be displeased because you didn't self-deprecate. You are talented. You are incredibly valued. Know your value. Don't ever question your value again.
I've been in a position where gifted people in the culture are reaching out to me because some preaching clips went viral. Someone from a major film saw a clip and messaged me asking for prayer before a big day. I said, "Do you want to practice?" He laughed, but then I asked, "Did you grow up in church?" He said yes. I told him, "I don't know why we always think we have to walk in low. Humble is the way, but sometimes when you walk into certain rooms, you need to walk in like you know who you are."
I had the opportunity to sit at a table with Timberland, one of the greatest beat producers in the world. The Holy Spirit whispered to me, "Don't be cute. Be very bold with all you've been doing." So I introduced myself boldly: "Pastor Mike Jr., we've been doing this and this—new king of urban inspiration. We're changing lives." He listened to the music, and now doors are opening all over the place. He told me later, "I was just so glad you weren't like the rest of them with all that fake humility."
But here's the balance: Don't confuse boldness with arrogance. Know when to be bold and when to lead with gratitude. There are certain rooms where I walk in and say, "First, I want to thank God for this opportunity." That's the principle of discernment.
When you lack discernment, you don't honor the moment. When God puts you on stage with major artists, that's not the time to shrink back and say, "Well, I play just a little bit." No. You walk in and say, "I'm the best in the world. Thank you for having me. I won't let you down." And you be bold.
God said, "Come boldly to the throne." He wants you walking in your assignments with confidence and honor.
I speak by faith: We will be different not just because of our gifts, but because of the way we honor. Anybody can sing. Anybody can play. Anybody can preach. But if nobody in the church sang, the rocks would cry out. The difference isn't the talent—the difference is honor.
So say this over your life: I'm different. I'm different.
Now, vertically, let's repent in the places we haven't honored God. Horizontally, let's fix the places where we haven't honored each other and haven't properly valued the gifts God has placed in our lives.
God, help us be better fathers, better husbands, better leaders, better friends, better employers, better employees. Better in whatever role you've called us to—whether as an entrepreneur, a businessperson, a writer, an author, a singer, or a musician. Help us honor you in all we do.
You never called us to be perfect, but you do demand honor. In this moment, may we have the strength to repent where we haven't honored—and may we be different because of it.
We are in the midst of a series entitled Courage to Commit Volume Two. Each week, we're giving you a key—principles of God that unlock the promises of God.
The Principle of Generosity — A heart that is willing to give leads to a life that freely gives. The question I ask you: Are you willing? Willingness is critical. As I've discovered through conversations with my own children about sharing what they have, generosity isn't just about material things—it's about recognizing that everything we have comes from God's provision. If God never sleeps nor slumbers, if He's protecting you while you rest, protecting you from devils and demons, if He's working constantly for your benefit—are you truly unwilling to give Him anything in return?
The Principle of Mindset — What I believe about me often determines what I believe about God.
The Principle of Multiplication — God did not create us simply to maintain, but to multiply.
The Principle of Freedom — Freedom is not doing whatever you want to do, but doing what you were created to do.
The Principle of Partnership — Trusting the wrong people will make you worse, but trusting the right people will help you win.
The Principle of Transformation — My gift will change others, but my character will change me.
The Principle of the Pick — Who you choose to be in your life will either be an asset or an assault.
You need to do an inventory of your life and ask God: Am I an asset or am I an assault?
An asset is something that increases, something that benefits. A liability is something that causes depreciation. But here's what's critical to understand: an assault is different. An assault always causes harm to somebody else. So when we talk about the principle of the pick and whether you're an asset or an assault, the assault isn't on you presently—it's on you futuristically.
When you become an assault to your future, you step into your future and beat your future down. So your present is pleased, but your future is dead. This is why your present becomes unbearable: your present self is happy, but you've killed your future self. As days pass and you move into the future, you keep looking like the present. Something inside you is frustrated because time changed, but you didn't.
You might want to think about what you're doing in June, because the November version of you ain't going to like it. The future me is going to thank the present me. This is why I pray in my present—because the future me is getting ready to walk in overflow. This is why I tithe in my present—because the future me has jobs, better jobs, and multiple streams of income coming.
I'm not praising God for who I am right now. I'm praising God for who I'm about to be. This is a futuristic retrospective praise—I've walked into 2025, looked back to 2022 and 2023, and I'm saying, "Thank you now for who I'm about to be tomorrow."
There's something I'm respecting in this season: I choose me. I don't have to put up with your toxicity. I've discovered that some poisons kill you instantly, but certain poisons kill you over time. We tend to be bold with things we know will kill us today, but we play with things that will kill us tomorrow.
If I master the principle of the pick, then God's going to teach me about the principle of the breakthrough.
Breakthrough is not when you go to the next level, but when God shows you why you are stuck on your now level. I prophesy to someone: breakthrough is not coming. Breakthrough is here.
The Principle of Discernment — I now have the ability to recognize the difference between what's dead and what's dormant.
The Principle of the Detour — God can use an undesired route to get you to a desired result.
How I express the value of others determines if I experience favor or famine. Let this sink in. This is enough to shift your whole life.
There is a critical difference between an appraisal and an opinion. An appraisal is an expert assessment of a thing in comparison to things like it. When a house is appraised, the appraiser looks at comparable properties—the house down the street, the house on the other street—and scores it accordingly.
This principle applies to you. Who's on your left and who's on your right matters. You could be a million-dollar individual, but if you're hanging with $100 people, they bring down your value. That's why I have to cut certain people off. That's why certain circles I can't be in. That's why certain friends I can't hang around. It's not that I'm bougie, stuck up, arrogant, or saditti—I respect my own value. This is called a comp.
Before you live based off how somebody feels about you, you must determine: Are they an expert in this area?
If certain people have filmed movies, worked on sets, been in the entertainment industry, they understand things about production, about trailers, about the value of different roles—things that someone outside that world cannot assess. When experts show up on a film set and they're given certain accommodations—a trailer, a personal assistant, catering—that tells you the value of that role and that movie.
Just because someone is an expert in this area doesn't make them an expert in that area. So when someone says, "I don't like your business plan," your response might be, "What have you built? Thank you for your opinion." Too many people stall and stop because they are honoring opinions and devaluing appraisals.
When I walk with an expert—someone who knows what they're doing, someone with real expertise—I can walk with boldness, not because I know it all, but because my partner knows it. So I can walk bold because I'm walking with somebody who has an expert assessment. Because I value their expertise, I show honor.
The principle of honor suggests: how I express the value of others determines if I experience favor or famine.
Favor is when God interrupts what the devil had planned to flip the situation. Famine is when God lets what's happening happen. Favor is when He sends water. I used to think favor was when He turned on the water and famine was when He turned off the water. But the older I get, I realize I'm in charge of turning the water on and off through my own actions and choices. God is not the water company in my house—if I pay the bill, I control the water.
But famine? Famine is when God cuts off the supply. When famine hit Egypt, even the king starved. When famine hits biblically, it doesn't matter where you live or what you drive. The only difference between a king hungry in his palace and servants hungry outside is geography. Famine doesn't care.
Here's what's profound: famine is never singular—it's always plural. If you don't have it, it's called hungry. If we ain't got it, it's called famine.
So I'm showing you this: if you walk in dishonor, you cut off supply for everybody. But if you walk in honor, because of you, everybody gets a breakthrough.
When I walk in favor, I get blessed. Because of my favor, people get blessed. But when famine comes, it hurts everybody.
Look at what's happened over the last 30 years. Ricky Lake showed people how to argue. Jerry Springer showed people how to fight. Maury showed people they weren't family. Reality TV put strangers in a house to expose chaos. Then social media came and let everyone troll anyone. For the last 30 years, they've been systematically teaching us dishonor.
They systematically taught us dishonor through entertainment. Ricky Lake taught people how to argue. Jerry Springer taught people how to fight. Maury taught people they weren't family. Reality TV put strangers in a house to expose chaos. Then social media came and made it possible for anyone to troll anyone else. For the last 30 years, they've been systematically teaching us dishonor.
Now I'm going to free you from something. If you watch Love and Hip Hop, Real Housewives, or any similar show, and the women honor each other, you say out loud, "This season ain't good." But if they get on TV and attack each other, you say, "Oh, that was good." The culture is training us to be turned on by dishonor. It's difficult to build honor in our hearts when dishonor has built our homes and our lives. I was birthed from dishonor. I was entertained by dishonor.
We live in a culture that celebrates dishonor. People are looking for a reason to disagree so they can disrespect. Dishonor is so embedded in the culture now that even basic courtesies seem strange. When you say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir," people look at you oddly. When you open a door for someone, they wonder if you're trying to talk to them. When you say "love you" to people around you, they don't know how to respond.
Honor is the key that unlocks favor's door. In a world full of dishonor and disrespect, this message is not just a title—it's a declaration. I'm different because I understand this principle.
When I attend events and work with people, I make it my practice to show honor. When anyone opens a door for me, I say thank you. If someone gives me water or a peppermint, I say thank you. Before leaving anywhere, everyone gets a hug and my gratitude. People have told me, "Man, you've been the best person I ever worked with. You and your team—thank you so much."
You will never make a difference until you're willing to be different. Your destiny is in your difference. Your wealth is in your difference. Your breakthrough is in your difference. You can't even make a difference if you aren't willing to be different.
Difference and honor are closely assessed. When I pledged in college, I learned the word "deference"—and deference is honor. Difference is respect. When my pledging mentor would say "difference," it meant he went first. It taught me what honor was. In order to get destiny, my destiny is locked inside my ability to be different. And I am different because I show deference, which is honor.
We often limit honor to being a ministry term or something you give to authority figures. Honor is a kingdom key that equips you in every area of your life. You will not increase in places that you do not honor. I'm going to say that again: you will not increase in places that you do not honor.
Even money shows honor. When our keyboardist Stefano drives from Atlanta to serve with us, we give him an honorarium—cash or a check—because we respect his gift. When it gets late and he's sacrificed his time, honor from me means making sure he has a hotel room so he doesn't have to drive back late. That's honor.
Some people think, "I already paid him—let him get his own room." But understand this: excess honor may show you excess favor. Tithing is not honor; tithing is obedience. Tithing is what you're supposed to do. Offerings are honor. A tithe says, "I respect what you told me to do." An offering says, "I honor you."
There are three critical principles to remember:
You will not increase in places that you do not honor. If you come to someone's house and act disrespectfully—taking your shoes off and kicking them everywhere, not flushing the restroom, getting food without asking, putting your feet on furniture, being loud—they won't invite you back. Yet you want a promotion at work. You showed up late, acted a fool, were messy, talked inappropriately, and now you're asking God for promotion. You wouldn't have needed to pray for that if you had shown honor.
You will not increase with people that you do not honor. My goal is that anyone who's ever worked for me, even if we part ways amicably, can say, "But he honored me. He always told me I was the best in the world. It wasn't just lip service—every major opportunity he had, he tried his best to usher me into that area if it could bless me." When I took my team member Terrell to Nashville for a meeting, afterward I brought him into the room with executives from across the world so he could be part of that experience. Now everywhere we go, people say, "We could tell y'all was Rock City because we could see that you honor each other."
You will not increase with things that you do not honor. If you show up to work at 8 and arrive at 8:50, you didn't honor the time.
Honor is when I purposefully choose to see you like God sees you. More specifically: honor is when I purposefully choose to see you how God sees you in my life and assignment. You can see someone as valuable, but the value they bring to you might not be the same value they bring to others. So it's personal.
To me, Rod—my musician—is a $50 million person. From day one, I said, "No, he's different." Every other musician I brought in didn't work because I was dishonoring them without even knowing it. I would bring them in and say, "I want you to be like Rod." Imagine dating someone and they tell you, "I want you to be like Kesha." Well, you need to go get Kesha.
I see Rod's value. He's the coldest keyboard player I've ever seen in my life. He programs, he produces. So anything he does that frustrates me, it frustrates me deeply because I see it through the lens of my appraisal. If any other person sits at that keyboard and misses a note, I look at them differently because my personal assessment of Rod is that he can elevate every aspect of my life. When he plays my music goes to another level. When he plays my message goes to another level.
That's why when we get off a tour bus anywhere in the world, I'm getting his bag for him, even though I have gout and back problems. We're walking through the airport together like that because he's invaluable to me. I choose to honor him.
Some of you are frustrated because people fuss at you. But maybe they're fussing not because they dislike you, but because they really value you. Sometimes the only way people can express their value is through frustration.
Consider Matthew 13:57-58. Jesus told them: "A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown among his own family." And so he did only a few miracles there. Every place Jesus went, he showed out except where he was from. The place he was from was familiar. Family sometimes equals familiarity, so you often lack honor in places where people are familiar with you.
Family knew his issues. Strangers only saw his gift. His family knew he was crazy, but strangers only saw how good he prayed, how good he sang, how good he baked, how good he cooked. What we've discovered is that because they did not properly value him, it limited what he could do.
The scripture says in verse 58—five being the number of grace and favor, eight being the number of new beginning—we see a code to favor and new beginnings. If you want favor and new beginnings, give honor. If you do not have honor, your favor and new beginnings will be limited.
When there is no honor in life, you will be confronted with labels, lids, and limitations. When honor is low, faith is slow. What was available for all was only given to a few. Because of the lack of honor, it created a system of unbelief. Everyone showed up wanting something, but because there was so much dishonor in the room, what could have happened for everybody only happened for a few people. Dishonor breeds unbelief.
When I dishonor you, what I'm really saying is I don't believe in you. When I don't believe in you, what you are able to produce cannot be produced because of my disbelief—and the root of that disbelief is my dishonor. The problem was not his power, but their perspective.
Let me ask you some hard questions: Is she driving you crazy because you haven't honored her? Is she frustrated because there's no honor in the relationship? Ladies, does he hate coming home because there's no honor? Does he have to fight all day in the street and then fight at home? If you beat a dog long enough, he's going to stop coming when you call him.
Your dog goes crazy when you get in the driveway because of your honor. The moment they hear that lock, they know that no matter how lonely they've been all day, the first thing that happens when you walk in is honor.
What if God wants to use your pain to flip your perspective? First Chronicles 4:9 tells us: "Jabez was more honorable than his brothers." His mother said, "I'm going to name you Jabez because I bore you with pain." Birthing him was so painful that his mother named him after the pain. Jabez means sorrowful, pain, grief.
In the book of Chronicles, there are 600 genealogies—name after name of who begat whom. Out of 600 families throughout the Hebraic family tree in 1 Chronicles chapter 4, Jabez shifted his entire bloodline. Out of every person listed, suddenly we see somebody different. God gives him two specific verses. 600 families are represented in Chronicles with no background, just genealogy after genealogy. Then out of nowhere, it says Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.
Jabez is a descendant of Judah. Judah translates to mean praise. So Jabez comes from praise, but he's known for prayer. We call it the prayer of Jabez. But he's a descendant of praise. Jabez is armed with praise and prayer. And any real believer knows you need both. Why? Praise will get the blessing, but prayer will show you how to keep the blessing.
Praise will get the blessing, but prayer will show you how to keep the blessing. This is why so many people lose what God has given them—they have praise without prayer.
When praises go up, blessings come down. But when you pray, they stay around. Many church folk shout because they're shocked the blessing showed up at all. But you can praise God while it's on the way and pray that God keeps it in your life.
In 2023, the focus must shift: less praise, more prayer. You don't have to shout like you didn't think it would happen. You can honor God while receiving His blessing and praying it remains.
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. We highlight his prayer, but we overlook the man who prayed. What if God hasn't answered certain prayers because you're praying the right prayer but committed to being the wrong person?
Honor in Hebrew is kabad. It has multiple dimensions:
If honor means to make weighty and anointing means to make fat (to expand), then anointing and honor go hand in hand. Any person who is anointed but lacks honor will be abusive. It's like someone who works out with a big top and no legs—the balance is missing.
Gifted people are often difficult to deal with because they fall in love with their anointing and think it exempts them from operating in honor. This is why many gifted people are the worst to deal with.
Honor and ignorance are not the same. When you choose not to know your worth, you're being ignorant. When you choose to know your worth but still humble yourself, that's honor. Many people get taken advantage of not because they're honorable, but because they're ignorant of their value.
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers because he carried more weight. The more weight you carry, the more opportunities for God to get glory. What if God keeps adding weight to you because He's validating you for glory? What if the test is whether you can carry it without complaining, without changing, without being consumed by it?
Can you be so anointed that you don't become consumed with your anointing? Can you be so gifted that you don't become consumed with your giftedness? Can you be so prophetic that you don't become absorbed in your prophetic ability? Many people will never become what God called them to be because they lack honor.
When purchasing a building, the realtor said, "The way you honored them, they just always respected that." Even with items left behind—graduation photos and belongings—showing honor meant carefully storing them so the previous owners could retrieve them. This wasn't just politeness; it was honor. And it made a difference in how they were treated.
If you don't honor the giver, you reap what you sow. A lack of honor is blocking many people from their breakthrough. Because Jabez had honor, he had the ability to truly pray.
Jabez's mother did not honor her baby—she labeled him. "I'm going to name you Jabez because I bore you with pain." Every time he introduced himself, he told his mother's story. He carried a label he didn't choose.
This is a generational curse. His mother made him walk around for the rest of his life wearing what she felt. He had nothing to do with the pain of his birth, yet he was defined by it.
We do this constantly. We label things toxic when they just made us mad in that moment. We label our children, our situations, ourselves—and they carry those labels forever.
No more labels. You are not what you've been named. You are what God says you are. Broke is not your label. Anxiety will not be your label. Fear will not be your label. Divorce will not be your label.
Every family has generational cycles—some verbally labeled, some spiritually labeled. When you get a last name, it often comes with associations: a crazy one, a drunk one, a divorced one, an anxious one, a foolish one. You determine which one you become. If you don't live by design, you'll live by default and end up looking like labels you didn't pick.
His mother put a lid on him before he could even get an identity. "Your wife will call you pain. Your children will call you pain. Your friends will call you pain. Your brothers will call you pain. That's all you will ever be."
But the coldest part of his prayer is often overlooked. When Jabez prays, he doesn't try to be something he hasn't been. His first word is, "Oh." He enters into prayer based on what he's had to live with. His prayer starts with acknowledging pain, then moves to blessing: "Oh, that you would bless me indeed. Enlarge my territory. Your hand might be with me. That you would keep me from harm and not pain me."
God granted him what he requested—not just because he prayed it, but because he was honorable.
Who you're under can limit who you become. Leadership sets the ceiling for what's possible. The lid placed on you by family, authority, or circumstance can restrict your potential. But honor breaks those lids and opens new possibilities.
Think of a grocery store: all cereals are on the cereal aisle, but different brands help you choose. Your last name is like that aisle label—it indicates a category, a type. There might be a "crazy McClure," a "drunk McClure," a "divorced McClure," an "anxious McClure," a "foolish McClure," a "rich McClure." You determine which one you become.
When movers pack boxes, they read the label to know how to treat the contents. If it says "pillows," they throw it. If it says "fine china," they handle it with care. If you don't label yourself, people will mistreat you. If you label it, it tells them how to treat you, how to love you, what you're worth.
You need to declare your label. "I'm blessed in the city, blessed in the field, blessed when I come, blessed when I go. Overflow has my name on it. I'm a generational trendsetter." If you don't label it, you'll lose it.
The label determines the brand and its purpose. Brooks shoes aren't Nike, Adidas, or Under Armour—they're functional, not fashionable. They provide arch support for people who stand all day. They're the choice of nurses, doctors, and people in demanding roles.
The question is: Will you be functional or fashionable? Will you look good or be good? Many people choose to look good instead of being good. But if your foundation is solid, if you have the right support, you can walk through your assignment without pain.
Interestingly, most pictures in sporting goods stores feature Brooks shoes—because somebody understands the value of function over appearance.
When looking at this church right now, don't see empty seats—see answered prayers. See screens, lights, talented people, and provision. These are answered prayers. My prayer for you isn't a house or a car—I'm praying God answers every prayer you prayed out of honor.
Honor + proper labeling of yourself + breaking the lids placed on you = answered prayers and a life of purpose.
Who you're under can limit who you become. This principle applies to the structures and systems we build, the people we surround ourselves with, and the frameworks within which we operate.
When I look at this church, I envision departments working throughout the building. I want a whole team dedicated to calling every person in our church every single day—not to ask for money, but simply to check in: "Hey, we're just checking on you. How's everything going?" I want every member to feel loved, needed, and known. They need to understand that they matter to us.
Honor isn't just a spiritual concept—it's a practical force that changes everything. The places in your life where you're stuck often lack honor. The question isn't primarily whether you'll give your life to Christ, though that matters most. The real question is: Where are you dishonoring God in your life?
Consider the gifts God has placed in your hands. If you don't use them for the body of Christ, you're dishonoring God. If you can sing but choose not to, who misses out? If you have the ability to create but keep it to yourself, who's deprived? If you can flip houses and someone just lost theirs and needs shelter, and you refuse to help, you're dishonoring God.
God didn't equip you to be arrogant or to hoard your gifts. He gave you those abilities for a purpose—to bless others, to serve, to build up the body of Christ.
Honor takes the limits off. When you honor God with your gifts, your time, and your resources, limitations disappear. But dishonor creates barriers that keep you stuck.
I recently lost one of my best members, Deacon Lester. He passed away this morning. When he got sick a couple weeks ago, Terrell, Tiffany, and I went to his house the day after Easter. We served communion, sat with him, and prayed. He laughed and talked with us. His wife had us all laughing. He loved her so much he positioned his hospital bed right next to hers, just to be close. It was such an honor to be in that moment, to hear him say, "Pastor, thank you." That's the impact of honor.
There's something the Holy Spirit has been dealing with me about, and I believe it affects many of us: If you grew up in church, you may have learned to devalue yourself.
When someone compliments your singing or your gifts, don't immediately diminish it by saying, "Oh, it's all God." No. You can say, "Thank you. I'm gifted." You can acknowledge your talent without arrogance. God won't be displeased because you didn't self-deprecate. You are talented. You are incredibly valued. Know your value. Don't ever question your value again.
I've been in a position where gifted people in the culture are reaching out to me because some preaching clips went viral. Someone from a major film saw a clip and messaged me asking for prayer before a big day. I said, "Do you want to practice?" He laughed, but then I asked, "Did you grow up in church?" He said yes. I told him, "I don't know why we always think we have to walk in low. Humble is the way, but sometimes when you walk into certain rooms, you need to walk in like you know who you are."
I had the opportunity to sit at a table with Timberland, one of the greatest beat producers in the world. The Holy Spirit whispered to me, "Don't be cute. Be very bold with all you've been doing." So I introduced myself boldly: "Pastor Mike Jr., we've been doing this and this—new king of urban inspiration. We're changing lives." He listened to the music, and now doors are opening all over the place. He told me later, "I was just so glad you weren't like the rest of them with all that fake humility."
But here's the balance: Don't confuse boldness with arrogance. Know when to be bold and when to lead with gratitude. There are certain rooms where I walk in and say, "First, I want to thank God for this opportunity." That's the principle of discernment.
When you lack discernment, you don't honor the moment. When God puts you on stage with major artists, that's not the time to shrink back and say, "Well, I play just a little bit." No. You walk in and say, "I'm the best in the world. Thank you for having me. I won't let you down." And you be bold.
God said, "Come boldly to the throne." He wants you walking in your assignments with confidence and honor.
I speak by faith: We will be different not just because of our gifts, but because of the way we honor. Anybody can sing. Anybody can play. Anybody can preach. But if nobody in the church sang, the rocks would cry out. The difference isn't the talent—the difference is honor.
So say this over your life: I'm different. I'm different.
Now, vertically, let's repent in the places we haven't honored God. Horizontally, let's fix the places where we haven't honored each other and haven't properly valued the gifts God has placed in our lives.
God, help us be better fathers, better husbands, better leaders, better friends, better employers, better employees. Better in whatever role you've called us to—whether as an entrepreneur, a businessperson, a writer, an author, a singer, or a musician. Help us honor you in all we do.
You never called us to be perfect, but you do demand honor. In this moment, may we have the strength to repent where we haven't honored—and may we be different because of it.
