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Galatians 1:10 reminds us: "Obviously, I'm not trying to win the approval of people, but of God. If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be Christ's servant."
When people go left, when they don't understand, when they don't like it—let them. This is the core message: if you're going to become what God called you to become, you must learn to let people be disappointed, let them misunderstand you, let them walk away, let them talk about you. Your obedience to God is not up for negotiation.
I've been reading a book called Let Them by Mel Robbins that shifted my perspective immediately. It reminded me that peace doesn't come from controlling outcomes—it comes from releasing people and trusting God with the results. For many of us, there is a freedom we've never experienced because we are exhausted from managing people God never assigned us to control.
My stance in 2026 is this: when people are judgmental and ask, "Why are you giving up?" my answer is simple. I'm not giving up. I'm growing up.
Proverbs 3:5 says: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
Here's what transformed how I read this scripture. Most of my life, I read it with a pause after "trust"—as if trusting and leaning are separate actions. But when you read the Bible properly, there is no delineation between trusting and leaning. God says: If you're going to trust me, you've got to lean on me.
What does lean mean? It means put all your weight on me. If you fall, I'll catch it. And if I catch it, that means I have the strength to pick you back up again.
I had to come to a critical realization: outcomes belong to God. Reactions belong to us.
I cannot determine if people will be faithful. I cannot determine if people will be loyal. I cannot determine if I give you my best, whether you'll give me your best back. I cannot determine if I go to work, I'll have a check on Friday—my company can bankrupt. But what I can control is this: no matter what happens to me, I will still bless the Lord. My faith in God will not dwindle.
Half the stress many of us face is not because of what someone did—it's how we responded to what they did.
Surrender is not passive. It's disciplined. When I say surrender to God in 2026, I'm not saying be weak or let people say whatever they want while you walk around with a smile. What I'm saying is get disciplined about surrendering your reactions to God.
Surrendering means I don't let disappointment decide my demeanor. Your heart gets broken this week—before you emote, ask God how He wants you to deal with it. You get handed a pink slip at work—thank them, and then ask God what's next in the car. Yes, we've spent our whole lives perfecting our actions. We're failing at our reactions.
Don't let disappointment decide your demeanor. One bad thing happens at 9 a.m., and you're in a funk all day at 3 p.m.? You spoke that into existence.
Don't let offense shape your obedience. God told you to bless somebody. They got an attitude with you. Don't let their action spark a negative reaction. Their nasty attitude puts you in disobedience.
Don't let delay define your devotion. Jesus modeled this. He didn't control the cross. All God, yet all man. He surrendered to the response of the Father. He said, "I don't want to do this. Is there another way?" But then He looked in the cup and said, "But not my will, but yours be done." That was not weakness—that was becoming.
Becoming is not about controlling outcomes. It's about surrendering reactions.
I've been praying since December 26: "Lord, help me react better." Because you do not become by force. You become by formation.
God does not force you into becoming. He waits to see if you will get in alignment so He can form you. Force tries to change your outcomes. Formation changes your nature. Force says "do better." Formation says "be made new." Force says "work on your behavior." Formation says "work on your heart."
God rarely rushes transformation. He shapes it.
Moses wasn't forced into leadership—he was formed in obscurity. God said, "Moses, I'm going to do something special in your life, but here's what we're going to do: I'm going to leave you in isolation until you're ready."
David wasn't forced onto the throne—he was formed in the fields. When the prophet told David, "You are the new king," David stayed where he was found. You'd think God would say, "Follow me back to the palace," but instead God said, "I'm not about to force you to walk into a level you aren't ready for."
Some of you are frustrated with God, saying, "It should have happened by now." And God is really trying to tell you: "If I forced you to be it now, it would corrupt you. You ain't ready to be anybody's husband. You ain't ready to be anybody's wife. You ain't ready to be anybody's boss. You ain't ready for real money. You ain't ready for the popularity you're asking for. You ain't ready for the platform you want to stand on."
I'm so grateful God didn't give me what I wanted when I wanted it. My goal was by age 27 to be the biggest pastor in the world and the best gospel artist in the world. I wanted to do it young because so many young people want to give their life to Christ, but they don't see anybody who looks like them.
God let me fail through my 20s. Let me be bankrupt in my 30s. My first song didn't jump until I was 38. You didn't really find me until after the pandemic. Before that, it was just this cool church in Birmingham, Alabama.
Then God shut the whole world down. I was preaching my heart out with just a cameraman—preaching to myself. I had no members because everyone was at home with COVID. And all of a sudden, during the pandemic, my song went number one. God gave me a number one song while I still couldn't gather people. Then He gave me everything I prayed for without people to praise me for it. He said, "I'm going to see if you can be faithful with no applause."
If God had given me what I wanted when I wanted it, I would be in a scandal right now. I would be arrogant. I wouldn't have been able to handle this life. I would have been walking around like I was special, like I do what I want. God had to wait until He shaped me so that none of this stuff means anything to me anymore. I'm grateful for it, but I realize: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
Here's what I need you to understand: If you can't walk like it before you got it, you don't deserve it when you get it.
God forms you through three things: proximity, process, and practice.
Becoming happens through proximity that shapes you, process that stretches you, and practice that seals you.
The disciples didn't just believe in Jesus—they stayed close. How can you believe in a God you're not close to? Either be all the way in or be all the way out.
God said to the lukewarm: "Since you're lukewarm, I'm going to spit you out." Why? Because formation starts with closeness. Forming only happens when you're in the right proximity.
When my boys were younger, I'd say, "Hey, I'm getting ready to roll. Who wants to roll?" And when one of them said, "I'll roll with you," that meant the world. I'd cut on music they liked and try to be the cool dad. But as they got older and more independent, fewer of them wanted to come.
I never forgot the time one of my sons went to a business meeting with me. This company was trying to impress me. They had PlayStation stuff, gift cards, and everything. When the lady asked if I was bringing somebody, I said, "Yeah, that's my son." They got him a gift bag. When we got home, my son asked, "Dad, why didn't you tell me you were going to the mall? I would have gone if I'd known you were shopping."
I said, "I didn't go shopping. I had meetings."
He said, "Then why did he get gifts?"
Because he was in proximity.
Stop wanting your neighbor's gift but not wanting their closeness. Formation starts with closeness.
Who you walk with shapes how you think, what you value, and what you normalize.
There are certain circles I cannot walk with because they normalize toxicity. They normalize dysfunction. They normalize bad relationships. They normalize not taking care of your money. In this season of my life, I am creating new normals.
That's why I'm telling my church: you've got to come closer. Distance weakens discernment. But proximity sharpens it.
Many of us fail because we make distant decisions. You don't pray enough to know if you want a date. So when someone says, "I want to be with you," you should say, "Let me go pray. I haven't been praying. I haven't been fasting. I haven't come to church. I don't tithe. I'm not in the right distance to make a decision."
When you make distant decisions, they become detrimental to your destiny because you're deciding without God. They offer you $20,000 more, but you aren't praying. How do you know the devil didn't show you that $20,000 because the whole company's going to shut down when you get there? Stop making distant decisions and then blaming them on the devil.
For some of you, the devil hasn't bothered you in three years—you've done enough damage to yourself.
I am at my best when I'm close to God.
When me and God are close, it's "scary hours." I'll be at the Wendy's drive-thru ordering my four-for-four (plus one to make it feel like a five-for-five), and God will start talking to me. I'll look at the cashier and say, "You have a son, don't you?" "Yes." "The Lord told me to pray for that son. He's going to call you."
I'll pray for them right there at the window with their hand out. Then I'll walk through my house late at night touching my kids, praying in tongues—I'm activated. But when I'm not close to God, nothing feels right. I try to pray, but something's off.
Some might say, "Pastor Mike, that's contradictory. How can you be a pastor but not close to God?" Because my proximity isn't your proximity. You might be able to go two or three days—I can't go a couple of hours.
Sin is not the only thing that pulls you apart from God. Put this in your notes: competing covenants is what creates distance. Twenty-four months ago, the Lord revealed this to me, and it completely flipped my life.
I went through a season where I took eight weeks off from church. I didn't feel right—I didn't know if it was anxiety or depression. I called one of my leaders and said, "I think God has taken his hand off me. I just don't feel like myself." I had been through loss; my grandfather passed away. But the Holy Spirit said to me, "Mike, it's not sin. It's competing covenants."
Here's what was happening: My boys had football practice every day. After practice, they went to coaching sessions. After that, tutoring. This meant I had covenants—to be a father, a husband, a pastor, an artist, a son. I was doing so much to be great at all of them that yes, I wasn't in the world, but I also wasn't in His Word.
If we aren't careful, the church will have you thinking the only time you get distant from God is when you're out there in the world. But you can be on stage and not talking to Him. Proximity weakens distance. That's why I'm doing everything I can in 2026 to make sure my church has no excuse for not being close to God.
I preach three times on Sunday, which means I'm standing three times so you can sit in one. When we get out of church at 7:00 p.m., there's online Bible reading at 7:00 p.m. At 5:00 a.m., there's faith and fitness. At 7:21 a.m., there are people talking about the Word.
Let's do the math:
You have over 20 ways to get closer to God. If you're overwhelmed, it's because you want to be. If you don't talk to God, it's because you don't want to. If you're stressed out, it's because you chose to be.
Some of you say, "Pastor Mike, I don't know how to pray." When you don't know how to cook, what do you do? You Google it. When you don't know the answer to something, you pull your phone out. We're going to do the same thing right now—we're going to pray.
First, pull your phone out and make a list. But before we do that, let me address something: Who told you that praying meant closing your eyes? Where in the Bible does it say you have to close your eyes? The Bible says, "Watch and pray." Church told us, "Bow your head and close your eyes real good," but that's not biblical.
Now, let's make your list:
Now, elaborate. If you're grateful for your home, write down the things you like about it. Then start praying: "God, in the name of Jesus, I thank you for my home. No weapon formed against my house shall prosper. I pray for my son's room, my daughter's room. I pray that we rest. I pray no nightmares come into my house."
When you think someone is cheating, you know how to investigate—you're screenshotting, blowing up glasses, looking through phones. When it's time to get money, you know how to research. Why are you so dependent on people when it comes to your spiritual life?
John 15:4 says, "Remain in me and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it's severed from the vine. And you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me."
Let me break this down for you: Remain means stay close. God is saying, "Stay close to me and I'll stay close to you. You can't produce what you want if you don't stay close to me. You won't be fruitful until you stay close to me. I don't have a problem with you winning—you just can't sustain it without me."
I never forget a lesson my gardener taught me. Last summer, a branch in our backyard fell—it was disconnected from the tree. But it started sprouting leaves. I thought that branch was dead, but my gardener said, "Everything that disconnects from the tree gets one more cycle to produce what was in it."
You're jealous of people who aren't connected to God because they don't go to church and they have a Mercedes. They don't love God and they're engaged. That's their one last cycle. I can't sustain anything without God.
There is no overflow without connection. This is not about my message being so good that people come to overflow. This is the Lord's doing. What I'm trying to get you to realize is this: Becoming flows from staying connected, not striving harder. Discernment flows from staying connected.
I thought if I went harder, things would be better. The Holy Spirit said, "Mike, I don't care how hard you go—if you ain't connected, it's not going to be better."
The happiest moments in my life were when I had nothing. My best time as a pastor was when I was a youth pastor with a ministry called Royal Nation—about 400 to 500 young people. We held our own services on Saturday nights. All of us decided to walk off our jobs to do ministry. I had 12 people—six guys and six girls—and I poured into them. They would come to my house every night. We would read the Bible, eat roti, and I'd make them pray until 3:00 in the morning.
I'd wake everybody up at 5:00 a.m. and meet them at the church. They would drive all the way to church at 5:00 a.m., and the door would be locked. I'd be out there in the grass saying, "We're going to pray in the dew in the morning." We'd be out there praying and crying before God. All these young people would start coming. We all walked off our jobs. That's when I found out Sam sold pizza. We'd get one pizza from Sam's Club, cut it into many slices, everybody gets two, and that was lunch the next day.
When people say, "But y'all were broke. Y'all were eating two-day-old pizza," that's true. But that's when I was the happiest because it wasn't about numbers. It wasn't about trying to impress people. I understood I was close to God.
Number two: I knew God had me in process. Please put this in your notes: Jesus did not rush their maturity. Jesus let them fail. There are certain seasons in my son's life—one of them turned 19 today—where I can see them about to do something that won't work. But instead of telling them it won't work (which would make them run to it faster), I sit back and say, "All right, I'd be careful if I was you." Once it fails, I say, "All right, baby. I got you. Let's figure it out."
I want to give you my definition of process: Process is where impatience dies and character develops. We say stuff in church like "I'm going through the process," but we never define these church words.
You do not skip process without weakening purpose. All my entrepreneurs know that couple of businesses you had had to fail. That was part of the process. God couldn't let it pop out the gate because process is where impatience dies. You're saying, "God, I need you to do this thing quick," and God is saying, "Nah, you ain't ready yet." But character develops.
Favor doesn't mean there's something special about you; favor means there's something special on you. Sometimes God takes you through because He doesn't want you walking around thinking it's you. There's nothing special about you. Your righteousness is filthy rags. Even the stuff people say about you pales in comparison to what you actually know about you.
But the fact that God has His hand on my life? Process is where impatience dies and character develops.
I've been through so much already in 2026. I didn't want to say this publicly because in my head I want you to think it's going to be a great year, and I still believe it will be. But I'm catching hell. During Christmas, catching hell. I just woke up like I was on fire. Everything was boom, boom, boom. Then it died down and something else hit. Boom. Then 2026 hit and everybody in my house caught the flu. Xander got sick, Mesa got sick, I got sick, Mike got sick.
Then my song was supposed to come out Friday. I'd marketed it, we were ready to turn up. There was a vibe. But then the team called and said we can't do this. I said, "Come on, y'all. Please, man. Don't do this to me." And then my whole team is calling me every day asking if I'm okay. I'm good, man. If I was you, I'd be mad. I'm not mad. I'm not tripping.
I put my video up saying I failed. You can't win 28 awards, be Grammy nominated, break the record for number one songs, have the best church in the world, and never lose.
Now I understand: What if God was sitting in heaven like, "Your smile looks real good from victory. Let me see if that smile is just this big when I take you through."
How immature would it look for God to do everything He's done for us and now we say, "God, why you got to do me like that?" I understand that the Lord giveth, and He also takes away.
When I lose, you know what I say? And I don't fake like it doesn't hurt. Yes, it hurts my feelings. Yes, I feel embarrassed. Yes, I think, "Folk are going to talk about me." But you know what I say in my heart? What are you developing? What are you developing? What are you developing?
Character is what you do when nobody's watching—that's integrity. But let me put a spin on character. Do you remember when Black Panther died? Black Panther never died; Chad Wick Boseman did. He was so phenomenal at becoming the Black Panther that when he passed away, we all felt like the character died. He became so well that we couldn't separate the person from the character.
When the Lord is developing my character, this role that He has me in requires a certain level from me that I naturally don't have. I want to kick it, I want to do my thing, but the character and the role can't handle that. So God takes me through failure so that the you you want to be gets lost in the you you're called to be. When people know who you used to be and they see who you're becoming, you don't look like what you used to be.
Philippians 1:6 says, "For I am certain that He who began a good work within you will continue His work until it's finally finished on the day when Christ returns."
Put this in your notes: God does not rush what he intends to last. Can you be honest with me? Who's ready for God to just go ahead and do it now? My hand is raised. Just do it. Coach, make us national champions right now. I don't want another development season. Who knows it's some money with your name on it? Lord, just do it now. I've learned all the broke lessons I need to learn. Who's never said that to God?
But here's the thing: If God is taking His time, He wants to ensure that once you get it, you don't lose it.
Put this in your notes: Proximity gives you access. Process gives you depth. But practice gives you consistency. Practice means this: The disciples didn't just listen to Jesus—they tried. In Scripture, someone said, "I brought my child to your disciples," and they tried to cast out the demon, but they couldn't. At least they tried. They failed, but they tried.
Listen to your pastor: In 2026, you're going to have to try. You say, "I don't pray like that." You're going to have to try this year. "Being nice to people—that ain't my thing." You're going to have to try. "I don't really tithe. I don't really..." You're going to have to try.
Because practice turns revelation into rhythm. You have to try so you can catch a rhythm. That's why I'm telling you during weeks eight through 14, I want you all to practice a couple of forms of faith.
Practice turns revelation into rhythm. The disciples didn't just listen to Jesus—they tried. In Scripture, someone brought their child to Jesus's disciples and said they tried to cast out the demon, but couldn't. At least they tried. They failed, but they tried.
In 2026, you're going to have to try. You say, "I don't pray like that." You're going to have to try this year. "Being nice to people—that ain't my thing." You're going to have to try. "I don't really tithe. I don't really..." You're going to have to try. Because practice turns revelation into rhythm. You have to try so you can catch a rhythm.
During weeks eight through 14, I want you all to practice a couple of forms of faith. It's going to be practical stuff. Wake up this morning, call your mom and pray for her. Say, "Hey mom, how you doing? I just want to—can I pray?" And pray: "Father, in Jesus name, I thank you for my mother." You're putting your faith in action.
For athletes: Before you step on the field to do any training, speak life over your body and pray for everybody at the field. Faith in action. I want you to catch a rhythm.
Pray on Monday, pray on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Next week that ought to call a rhythm. When you caught a rhythm with seven days of prayer, you didn't stop having seven days of prayer—you caught a rhythm.
What you repeatedly do becomes who you eventually become. I'm trying to get you praying seven days, 14 days. My goal is by the end, by day 22, whether we go live or not, something in your spirit will say, "No, I got to talk to God at 7:00." That's rich.
Listen to me when I say this: Sometimes the fastest way to become who God designed you to be is to stop fighting who people choose to be. This is the phrase that transformed me: Let them and let God.
Most of our frustration is not with life. It is with people not acting the way we expected. Most of our frustration is not with God. It's with people not acting the way we expected.
We burn emotional energy trying to manage reactions, opinions, loyalty, applause, timing, and understanding. God never asked you to manage people. He asked you to manage obedience.
We are so drained and so exhausted trying to manage people, and God is like, "I never asked you to do that. I asked you to manage your obedience."
Obviously, I'm not trying to win the approval of people, but of God. If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be Christ's servant. (Galatians 1:10)
Paul draws a clear line between approval and assignment. There's a clear line between approval and assignment. Which one are you going to live to? People's approval or the assignment God gave you.
People's approval demands adjustment. God's approval demands alignment. You can't chase affirmation and still carry authority. You can't be powerful but still pitiful because people don't like you. The moment you let applause become the goal, obedience stops being the standard. Servanthood and people pleasing cannot coexist because one answers to opinions and the other answers to obedience.
In this journey of becoming, the tension will be that you must decide whose approval you are being formed by. Because approval is a moving target.
When I first started, people would come to my church and say, "Man, I like that young brother, but he mature enough. You know, he got dreads. He don't really look like a pastor." So I stopped wearing jeans. I wore a suit, slacks with a sweater vest, got my initial on the sweater vest with a bow tie. I cut all the facial hair off. Then the young people said, "I kind of like that church because he kind of looked like us." So I went back to those clothes. Now the people who said they had the power couldn't be there anymore.
I couldn't win. I couldn't keep acting like what you wanted me to be. I couldn't be five characters. We live our lives like that. We're one way in church, one way with these friends, one way with those friends, one way with your family, one way at your house. Which one of you are you going to be today?
You have to answer the question: Who gets the final say?
Most of our frustration isn't with life itself. It's with people refusing to meet our expectations. And the moment we accept that we can't control them is the moment God invites us to let them.
Number one: Let them walk. Why? Who leaves reveals who you are becoming.
If you eat every day because somebody cooks and then God has that cook leave your life, God might be trying to tell you it's time for you to cook. God might be saying you're too dependent on them. There's something you're going to have to be in your next level that you currently don't have on this level. So God removes people on this level so you can figure it out, so when you get to the next level, it don't hinder you from going to the next level.
When people walk away, we assume it's failure. But the Bible calls it filtration. Throughout Scripture, God often thins before he sends. Gideon had 30,000 people. God said, "That's too many. Let me thin that to 300 before you go fight." David got ready to fight Goliath. They gave him Saul's armor. God said, "You got too much stuff on. Let me thin before I send. Let me separate before I elevate."
When people walk away, we get hurt because it feels personal. But many times it's not personal, it's protective. God is filtering.
Filtration is God removing what cannot go where he's taking me.
When I first came out with my music, I didn't know how to teach parts and do all this stuff. I had a team helping me. But then the team wasn't there anymore and I had to figure it out myself. Now I look back and say, I see why I had to go through that season. God never wants your gift dependent on people. He don't want you to have this million-dollar idea but can't do nothing with it because they decided they don't want to do nothing.
God is filtering distractions, dependencies, and even relationships that would dilute what he's forming in you.
Consider this example. I've never been a drinker, mostly because of generational curses we're trying to break in our family. But I hung with a lot of drinkers, especially in college. All my brothers drank. I was the designated driver. I never forget it. I would be the person in the club observing, and one of them said to me, "These drinks ain't hitting on nothing, but I'm trying to be cool." I said, "What does that mean?" They said, "They're diluted. It was too much."
That little prayer life you got ain't going to be strong enough for your next level. It ain't a sin to be in that circle. It just dilutes you. And God never subtracts without intention. If something's being taken out of your life, it is intentional.
Now, you can't walk around cutting people off that God assigned. Certain people you don't cut off. There are certain relationships you fix because there's a type of favor connected to them. But hear me when I say this: Sometimes he removes what you are attached to so you can attach to what he assigns you.
Number two: Let them misunderstand you.
At this point, many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the 12 and asked, "Are you going to leave also?" (John 6:66–67)
Look at this picture. Look to your right. They're leaving. Look to the left. They're staying. Too many of us focus on who's walking versus who's staying. Jesus says, "They're going to leave." He never addresses the deserters. He only addresses devotion. He says, "What y'all going to do?"
Clarity comes after calling, not before it. Some people will never understand your evolution because they are committed to an older version of you. They like you when you were manageable and struggle when you become intentional.
You are permitted to understand the secrets of the kingdom of God, but I use parables for everything I say to outsiders. (Mark 4:11)
Jesus tells the people who are close, "I'm going to give you all the secrets." He tells the people on the outside, "I'm going to tell you parables. You're going to have to figure it out because access ain't for everybody."
Jesus accepted selective understanding. Let me give you a definition:
Selective understanding is when people hear your calling through the filter of their comfort. They understand the part of you that benefits them, but they resist the part of you that causes them to stretch. They celebrate your growth until your growth causes them to make adjustments.
In Scripture, this is why Jesus was accepted as a teacher but rejected as Lord. They understood he was a teacher. They refused to understand that he was the Lord.
You do not owe explanations to people who are not assigned to your becoming.
Selective understanding isn't always opposition. Sometimes it's familiarity. Sometimes people reduce you to the version of you they met when they first met you and struggle to realize who God is forming you to become.
Clarity often produces conflict. When I leave the house with my three boys, I tell them, "Y'all in charge?" "Yes, sir." When I get back home, they're about to fight. "I told so and so to do so and so." "Well, I told him he needs to do so and so." Now they fight because they didn't know who was in charge. I gave them clarity, and Xander is the oldest—Xander is in charge. But they say, "But why? I gave you what you asked for."
Stop thinking when you give people clarity, they're going to get comfort. Sometimes clarity causes chaos because they don't like what they heard from you. "I love you, but I just don't want to be with you anymore." "But why?" "It just doesn't work for me." "But why?" You can't keep asking me questions to fit the version of my answer that fits your reality.
When God starts revealing new dimensions of your assignment, some people don't misunderstand you. They just selectively understand you.
I speak over your life that you are in a season where God has given you so much clarity about your assignment, so much clarity about who you are in him that the boldness that comes with it is about to shake your life forever.
If they don't want to be in your life, let them walk. If they don't want to understand, let them misunderstand.
Galatians 1:10 reminds us: "Obviously, I'm not trying to win the approval of people, but of God. If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be Christ's servant."
When people go left, when they don't understand, when they don't like it—let them. This is the core message: if you're going to become what God called you to become, you must learn to let people be disappointed, let them misunderstand you, let them walk away, let them talk about you. Your obedience to God is not up for negotiation.
I've been reading a book called Let Them by Mel Robbins that shifted my perspective immediately. It reminded me that peace doesn't come from controlling outcomes—it comes from releasing people and trusting God with the results. For many of us, there is a freedom we've never experienced because we are exhausted from managing people God never assigned us to control.
My stance in 2026 is this: when people are judgmental and ask, "Why are you giving up?" my answer is simple. I'm not giving up. I'm growing up.
Proverbs 3:5 says: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
Here's what transformed how I read this scripture. Most of my life, I read it with a pause after "trust"—as if trusting and leaning are separate actions. But when you read the Bible properly, there is no delineation between trusting and leaning. God says: If you're going to trust me, you've got to lean on me.
What does lean mean? It means put all your weight on me. If you fall, I'll catch it. And if I catch it, that means I have the strength to pick you back up again.
I had to come to a critical realization: outcomes belong to God. Reactions belong to us.
I cannot determine if people will be faithful. I cannot determine if people will be loyal. I cannot determine if I give you my best, whether you'll give me your best back. I cannot determine if I go to work, I'll have a check on Friday—my company can bankrupt. But what I can control is this: no matter what happens to me, I will still bless the Lord. My faith in God will not dwindle.
Half the stress many of us face is not because of what someone did—it's how we responded to what they did.
Surrender is not passive. It's disciplined. When I say surrender to God in 2026, I'm not saying be weak or let people say whatever they want while you walk around with a smile. What I'm saying is get disciplined about surrendering your reactions to God.
Surrendering means I don't let disappointment decide my demeanor. Your heart gets broken this week—before you emote, ask God how He wants you to deal with it. You get handed a pink slip at work—thank them, and then ask God what's next in the car. Yes, we've spent our whole lives perfecting our actions. We're failing at our reactions.
Don't let disappointment decide your demeanor. One bad thing happens at 9 a.m., and you're in a funk all day at 3 p.m.? You spoke that into existence.
Don't let offense shape your obedience. God told you to bless somebody. They got an attitude with you. Don't let their action spark a negative reaction. Their nasty attitude puts you in disobedience.
Don't let delay define your devotion. Jesus modeled this. He didn't control the cross. All God, yet all man. He surrendered to the response of the Father. He said, "I don't want to do this. Is there another way?" But then He looked in the cup and said, "But not my will, but yours be done." That was not weakness—that was becoming.
Becoming is not about controlling outcomes. It's about surrendering reactions.
I've been praying since December 26: "Lord, help me react better." Because you do not become by force. You become by formation.
God does not force you into becoming. He waits to see if you will get in alignment so He can form you. Force tries to change your outcomes. Formation changes your nature. Force says "do better." Formation says "be made new." Force says "work on your behavior." Formation says "work on your heart."
God rarely rushes transformation. He shapes it.
Moses wasn't forced into leadership—he was formed in obscurity. God said, "Moses, I'm going to do something special in your life, but here's what we're going to do: I'm going to leave you in isolation until you're ready."
David wasn't forced onto the throne—he was formed in the fields. When the prophet told David, "You are the new king," David stayed where he was found. You'd think God would say, "Follow me back to the palace," but instead God said, "I'm not about to force you to walk into a level you aren't ready for."
Some of you are frustrated with God, saying, "It should have happened by now." And God is really trying to tell you: "If I forced you to be it now, it would corrupt you. You ain't ready to be anybody's husband. You ain't ready to be anybody's wife. You ain't ready to be anybody's boss. You ain't ready for real money. You ain't ready for the popularity you're asking for. You ain't ready for the platform you want to stand on."
I'm so grateful God didn't give me what I wanted when I wanted it. My goal was by age 27 to be the biggest pastor in the world and the best gospel artist in the world. I wanted to do it young because so many young people want to give their life to Christ, but they don't see anybody who looks like them.
God let me fail through my 20s. Let me be bankrupt in my 30s. My first song didn't jump until I was 38. You didn't really find me until after the pandemic. Before that, it was just this cool church in Birmingham, Alabama.
Then God shut the whole world down. I was preaching my heart out with just a cameraman—preaching to myself. I had no members because everyone was at home with COVID. And all of a sudden, during the pandemic, my song went number one. God gave me a number one song while I still couldn't gather people. Then He gave me everything I prayed for without people to praise me for it. He said, "I'm going to see if you can be faithful with no applause."
If God had given me what I wanted when I wanted it, I would be in a scandal right now. I would be arrogant. I wouldn't have been able to handle this life. I would have been walking around like I was special, like I do what I want. God had to wait until He shaped me so that none of this stuff means anything to me anymore. I'm grateful for it, but I realize: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
Here's what I need you to understand: If you can't walk like it before you got it, you don't deserve it when you get it.
God forms you through three things: proximity, process, and practice.
Becoming happens through proximity that shapes you, process that stretches you, and practice that seals you.
The disciples didn't just believe in Jesus—they stayed close. How can you believe in a God you're not close to? Either be all the way in or be all the way out.
God said to the lukewarm: "Since you're lukewarm, I'm going to spit you out." Why? Because formation starts with closeness. Forming only happens when you're in the right proximity.
When my boys were younger, I'd say, "Hey, I'm getting ready to roll. Who wants to roll?" And when one of them said, "I'll roll with you," that meant the world. I'd cut on music they liked and try to be the cool dad. But as they got older and more independent, fewer of them wanted to come.
I never forgot the time one of my sons went to a business meeting with me. This company was trying to impress me. They had PlayStation stuff, gift cards, and everything. When the lady asked if I was bringing somebody, I said, "Yeah, that's my son." They got him a gift bag. When we got home, my son asked, "Dad, why didn't you tell me you were going to the mall? I would have gone if I'd known you were shopping."
I said, "I didn't go shopping. I had meetings."
He said, "Then why did he get gifts?"
Because he was in proximity.
Stop wanting your neighbor's gift but not wanting their closeness. Formation starts with closeness.
Who you walk with shapes how you think, what you value, and what you normalize.
There are certain circles I cannot walk with because they normalize toxicity. They normalize dysfunction. They normalize bad relationships. They normalize not taking care of your money. In this season of my life, I am creating new normals.
That's why I'm telling my church: you've got to come closer. Distance weakens discernment. But proximity sharpens it.
Many of us fail because we make distant decisions. You don't pray enough to know if you want a date. So when someone says, "I want to be with you," you should say, "Let me go pray. I haven't been praying. I haven't been fasting. I haven't come to church. I don't tithe. I'm not in the right distance to make a decision."
When you make distant decisions, they become detrimental to your destiny because you're deciding without God. They offer you $20,000 more, but you aren't praying. How do you know the devil didn't show you that $20,000 because the whole company's going to shut down when you get there? Stop making distant decisions and then blaming them on the devil.
For some of you, the devil hasn't bothered you in three years—you've done enough damage to yourself.
I am at my best when I'm close to God.
When me and God are close, it's "scary hours." I'll be at the Wendy's drive-thru ordering my four-for-four (plus one to make it feel like a five-for-five), and God will start talking to me. I'll look at the cashier and say, "You have a son, don't you?" "Yes." "The Lord told me to pray for that son. He's going to call you."
I'll pray for them right there at the window with their hand out. Then I'll walk through my house late at night touching my kids, praying in tongues—I'm activated. But when I'm not close to God, nothing feels right. I try to pray, but something's off.
Some might say, "Pastor Mike, that's contradictory. How can you be a pastor but not close to God?" Because my proximity isn't your proximity. You might be able to go two or three days—I can't go a couple of hours.
Sin is not the only thing that pulls you apart from God. Put this in your notes: competing covenants is what creates distance. Twenty-four months ago, the Lord revealed this to me, and it completely flipped my life.
I went through a season where I took eight weeks off from church. I didn't feel right—I didn't know if it was anxiety or depression. I called one of my leaders and said, "I think God has taken his hand off me. I just don't feel like myself." I had been through loss; my grandfather passed away. But the Holy Spirit said to me, "Mike, it's not sin. It's competing covenants."
Here's what was happening: My boys had football practice every day. After practice, they went to coaching sessions. After that, tutoring. This meant I had covenants—to be a father, a husband, a pastor, an artist, a son. I was doing so much to be great at all of them that yes, I wasn't in the world, but I also wasn't in His Word.
If we aren't careful, the church will have you thinking the only time you get distant from God is when you're out there in the world. But you can be on stage and not talking to Him. Proximity weakens distance. That's why I'm doing everything I can in 2026 to make sure my church has no excuse for not being close to God.
I preach three times on Sunday, which means I'm standing three times so you can sit in one. When we get out of church at 7:00 p.m., there's online Bible reading at 7:00 p.m. At 5:00 a.m., there's faith and fitness. At 7:21 a.m., there are people talking about the Word.
Let's do the math:
You have over 20 ways to get closer to God. If you're overwhelmed, it's because you want to be. If you don't talk to God, it's because you don't want to. If you're stressed out, it's because you chose to be.
Some of you say, "Pastor Mike, I don't know how to pray." When you don't know how to cook, what do you do? You Google it. When you don't know the answer to something, you pull your phone out. We're going to do the same thing right now—we're going to pray.
First, pull your phone out and make a list. But before we do that, let me address something: Who told you that praying meant closing your eyes? Where in the Bible does it say you have to close your eyes? The Bible says, "Watch and pray." Church told us, "Bow your head and close your eyes real good," but that's not biblical.
Now, let's make your list:
Now, elaborate. If you're grateful for your home, write down the things you like about it. Then start praying: "God, in the name of Jesus, I thank you for my home. No weapon formed against my house shall prosper. I pray for my son's room, my daughter's room. I pray that we rest. I pray no nightmares come into my house."
When you think someone is cheating, you know how to investigate—you're screenshotting, blowing up glasses, looking through phones. When it's time to get money, you know how to research. Why are you so dependent on people when it comes to your spiritual life?
John 15:4 says, "Remain in me and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it's severed from the vine. And you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me."
Let me break this down for you: Remain means stay close. God is saying, "Stay close to me and I'll stay close to you. You can't produce what you want if you don't stay close to me. You won't be fruitful until you stay close to me. I don't have a problem with you winning—you just can't sustain it without me."
I never forget a lesson my gardener taught me. Last summer, a branch in our backyard fell—it was disconnected from the tree. But it started sprouting leaves. I thought that branch was dead, but my gardener said, "Everything that disconnects from the tree gets one more cycle to produce what was in it."
You're jealous of people who aren't connected to God because they don't go to church and they have a Mercedes. They don't love God and they're engaged. That's their one last cycle. I can't sustain anything without God.
There is no overflow without connection. This is not about my message being so good that people come to overflow. This is the Lord's doing. What I'm trying to get you to realize is this: Becoming flows from staying connected, not striving harder. Discernment flows from staying connected.
I thought if I went harder, things would be better. The Holy Spirit said, "Mike, I don't care how hard you go—if you ain't connected, it's not going to be better."
The happiest moments in my life were when I had nothing. My best time as a pastor was when I was a youth pastor with a ministry called Royal Nation—about 400 to 500 young people. We held our own services on Saturday nights. All of us decided to walk off our jobs to do ministry. I had 12 people—six guys and six girls—and I poured into them. They would come to my house every night. We would read the Bible, eat roti, and I'd make them pray until 3:00 in the morning.
I'd wake everybody up at 5:00 a.m. and meet them at the church. They would drive all the way to church at 5:00 a.m., and the door would be locked. I'd be out there in the grass saying, "We're going to pray in the dew in the morning." We'd be out there praying and crying before God. All these young people would start coming. We all walked off our jobs. That's when I found out Sam sold pizza. We'd get one pizza from Sam's Club, cut it into many slices, everybody gets two, and that was lunch the next day.
When people say, "But y'all were broke. Y'all were eating two-day-old pizza," that's true. But that's when I was the happiest because it wasn't about numbers. It wasn't about trying to impress people. I understood I was close to God.
Number two: I knew God had me in process. Please put this in your notes: Jesus did not rush their maturity. Jesus let them fail. There are certain seasons in my son's life—one of them turned 19 today—where I can see them about to do something that won't work. But instead of telling them it won't work (which would make them run to it faster), I sit back and say, "All right, I'd be careful if I was you." Once it fails, I say, "All right, baby. I got you. Let's figure it out."
I want to give you my definition of process: Process is where impatience dies and character develops. We say stuff in church like "I'm going through the process," but we never define these church words.
You do not skip process without weakening purpose. All my entrepreneurs know that couple of businesses you had had to fail. That was part of the process. God couldn't let it pop out the gate because process is where impatience dies. You're saying, "God, I need you to do this thing quick," and God is saying, "Nah, you ain't ready yet." But character develops.
Favor doesn't mean there's something special about you; favor means there's something special on you. Sometimes God takes you through because He doesn't want you walking around thinking it's you. There's nothing special about you. Your righteousness is filthy rags. Even the stuff people say about you pales in comparison to what you actually know about you.
But the fact that God has His hand on my life? Process is where impatience dies and character develops.
I've been through so much already in 2026. I didn't want to say this publicly because in my head I want you to think it's going to be a great year, and I still believe it will be. But I'm catching hell. During Christmas, catching hell. I just woke up like I was on fire. Everything was boom, boom, boom. Then it died down and something else hit. Boom. Then 2026 hit and everybody in my house caught the flu. Xander got sick, Mesa got sick, I got sick, Mike got sick.
Then my song was supposed to come out Friday. I'd marketed it, we were ready to turn up. There was a vibe. But then the team called and said we can't do this. I said, "Come on, y'all. Please, man. Don't do this to me." And then my whole team is calling me every day asking if I'm okay. I'm good, man. If I was you, I'd be mad. I'm not mad. I'm not tripping.
I put my video up saying I failed. You can't win 28 awards, be Grammy nominated, break the record for number one songs, have the best church in the world, and never lose.
Now I understand: What if God was sitting in heaven like, "Your smile looks real good from victory. Let me see if that smile is just this big when I take you through."
How immature would it look for God to do everything He's done for us and now we say, "God, why you got to do me like that?" I understand that the Lord giveth, and He also takes away.
When I lose, you know what I say? And I don't fake like it doesn't hurt. Yes, it hurts my feelings. Yes, I feel embarrassed. Yes, I think, "Folk are going to talk about me." But you know what I say in my heart? What are you developing? What are you developing? What are you developing?
Character is what you do when nobody's watching—that's integrity. But let me put a spin on character. Do you remember when Black Panther died? Black Panther never died; Chad Wick Boseman did. He was so phenomenal at becoming the Black Panther that when he passed away, we all felt like the character died. He became so well that we couldn't separate the person from the character.
When the Lord is developing my character, this role that He has me in requires a certain level from me that I naturally don't have. I want to kick it, I want to do my thing, but the character and the role can't handle that. So God takes me through failure so that the you you want to be gets lost in the you you're called to be. When people know who you used to be and they see who you're becoming, you don't look like what you used to be.
Philippians 1:6 says, "For I am certain that He who began a good work within you will continue His work until it's finally finished on the day when Christ returns."
Put this in your notes: God does not rush what he intends to last. Can you be honest with me? Who's ready for God to just go ahead and do it now? My hand is raised. Just do it. Coach, make us national champions right now. I don't want another development season. Who knows it's some money with your name on it? Lord, just do it now. I've learned all the broke lessons I need to learn. Who's never said that to God?
But here's the thing: If God is taking His time, He wants to ensure that once you get it, you don't lose it.
Put this in your notes: Proximity gives you access. Process gives you depth. But practice gives you consistency. Practice means this: The disciples didn't just listen to Jesus—they tried. In Scripture, someone said, "I brought my child to your disciples," and they tried to cast out the demon, but they couldn't. At least they tried. They failed, but they tried.
Listen to your pastor: In 2026, you're going to have to try. You say, "I don't pray like that." You're going to have to try this year. "Being nice to people—that ain't my thing." You're going to have to try. "I don't really tithe. I don't really..." You're going to have to try.
Because practice turns revelation into rhythm. You have to try so you can catch a rhythm. That's why I'm telling you during weeks eight through 14, I want you all to practice a couple of forms of faith.
Practice turns revelation into rhythm. The disciples didn't just listen to Jesus—they tried. In Scripture, someone brought their child to Jesus's disciples and said they tried to cast out the demon, but couldn't. At least they tried. They failed, but they tried.
In 2026, you're going to have to try. You say, "I don't pray like that." You're going to have to try this year. "Being nice to people—that ain't my thing." You're going to have to try. "I don't really tithe. I don't really..." You're going to have to try. Because practice turns revelation into rhythm. You have to try so you can catch a rhythm.
During weeks eight through 14, I want you all to practice a couple of forms of faith. It's going to be practical stuff. Wake up this morning, call your mom and pray for her. Say, "Hey mom, how you doing? I just want to—can I pray?" And pray: "Father, in Jesus name, I thank you for my mother." You're putting your faith in action.
For athletes: Before you step on the field to do any training, speak life over your body and pray for everybody at the field. Faith in action. I want you to catch a rhythm.
Pray on Monday, pray on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Next week that ought to call a rhythm. When you caught a rhythm with seven days of prayer, you didn't stop having seven days of prayer—you caught a rhythm.
What you repeatedly do becomes who you eventually become. I'm trying to get you praying seven days, 14 days. My goal is by the end, by day 22, whether we go live or not, something in your spirit will say, "No, I got to talk to God at 7:00." That's rich.
Listen to me when I say this: Sometimes the fastest way to become who God designed you to be is to stop fighting who people choose to be. This is the phrase that transformed me: Let them and let God.
Most of our frustration is not with life. It is with people not acting the way we expected. Most of our frustration is not with God. It's with people not acting the way we expected.
We burn emotional energy trying to manage reactions, opinions, loyalty, applause, timing, and understanding. God never asked you to manage people. He asked you to manage obedience.
We are so drained and so exhausted trying to manage people, and God is like, "I never asked you to do that. I asked you to manage your obedience."
Obviously, I'm not trying to win the approval of people, but of God. If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be Christ's servant. (Galatians 1:10)
Paul draws a clear line between approval and assignment. There's a clear line between approval and assignment. Which one are you going to live to? People's approval or the assignment God gave you.
People's approval demands adjustment. God's approval demands alignment. You can't chase affirmation and still carry authority. You can't be powerful but still pitiful because people don't like you. The moment you let applause become the goal, obedience stops being the standard. Servanthood and people pleasing cannot coexist because one answers to opinions and the other answers to obedience.
In this journey of becoming, the tension will be that you must decide whose approval you are being formed by. Because approval is a moving target.
When I first started, people would come to my church and say, "Man, I like that young brother, but he mature enough. You know, he got dreads. He don't really look like a pastor." So I stopped wearing jeans. I wore a suit, slacks with a sweater vest, got my initial on the sweater vest with a bow tie. I cut all the facial hair off. Then the young people said, "I kind of like that church because he kind of looked like us." So I went back to those clothes. Now the people who said they had the power couldn't be there anymore.
I couldn't win. I couldn't keep acting like what you wanted me to be. I couldn't be five characters. We live our lives like that. We're one way in church, one way with these friends, one way with those friends, one way with your family, one way at your house. Which one of you are you going to be today?
You have to answer the question: Who gets the final say?
Most of our frustration isn't with life itself. It's with people refusing to meet our expectations. And the moment we accept that we can't control them is the moment God invites us to let them.
Number one: Let them walk. Why? Who leaves reveals who you are becoming.
If you eat every day because somebody cooks and then God has that cook leave your life, God might be trying to tell you it's time for you to cook. God might be saying you're too dependent on them. There's something you're going to have to be in your next level that you currently don't have on this level. So God removes people on this level so you can figure it out, so when you get to the next level, it don't hinder you from going to the next level.
When people walk away, we assume it's failure. But the Bible calls it filtration. Throughout Scripture, God often thins before he sends. Gideon had 30,000 people. God said, "That's too many. Let me thin that to 300 before you go fight." David got ready to fight Goliath. They gave him Saul's armor. God said, "You got too much stuff on. Let me thin before I send. Let me separate before I elevate."
When people walk away, we get hurt because it feels personal. But many times it's not personal, it's protective. God is filtering.
Filtration is God removing what cannot go where he's taking me.
When I first came out with my music, I didn't know how to teach parts and do all this stuff. I had a team helping me. But then the team wasn't there anymore and I had to figure it out myself. Now I look back and say, I see why I had to go through that season. God never wants your gift dependent on people. He don't want you to have this million-dollar idea but can't do nothing with it because they decided they don't want to do nothing.
God is filtering distractions, dependencies, and even relationships that would dilute what he's forming in you.
Consider this example. I've never been a drinker, mostly because of generational curses we're trying to break in our family. But I hung with a lot of drinkers, especially in college. All my brothers drank. I was the designated driver. I never forget it. I would be the person in the club observing, and one of them said to me, "These drinks ain't hitting on nothing, but I'm trying to be cool." I said, "What does that mean?" They said, "They're diluted. It was too much."
That little prayer life you got ain't going to be strong enough for your next level. It ain't a sin to be in that circle. It just dilutes you. And God never subtracts without intention. If something's being taken out of your life, it is intentional.
Now, you can't walk around cutting people off that God assigned. Certain people you don't cut off. There are certain relationships you fix because there's a type of favor connected to them. But hear me when I say this: Sometimes he removes what you are attached to so you can attach to what he assigns you.
Number two: Let them misunderstand you.
At this point, many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the 12 and asked, "Are you going to leave also?" (John 6:66–67)
Look at this picture. Look to your right. They're leaving. Look to the left. They're staying. Too many of us focus on who's walking versus who's staying. Jesus says, "They're going to leave." He never addresses the deserters. He only addresses devotion. He says, "What y'all going to do?"
Clarity comes after calling, not before it. Some people will never understand your evolution because they are committed to an older version of you. They like you when you were manageable and struggle when you become intentional.
You are permitted to understand the secrets of the kingdom of God, but I use parables for everything I say to outsiders. (Mark 4:11)
Jesus tells the people who are close, "I'm going to give you all the secrets." He tells the people on the outside, "I'm going to tell you parables. You're going to have to figure it out because access ain't for everybody."
Jesus accepted selective understanding. Let me give you a definition:
Selective understanding is when people hear your calling through the filter of their comfort. They understand the part of you that benefits them, but they resist the part of you that causes them to stretch. They celebrate your growth until your growth causes them to make adjustments.
In Scripture, this is why Jesus was accepted as a teacher but rejected as Lord. They understood he was a teacher. They refused to understand that he was the Lord.
You do not owe explanations to people who are not assigned to your becoming.
Selective understanding isn't always opposition. Sometimes it's familiarity. Sometimes people reduce you to the version of you they met when they first met you and struggle to realize who God is forming you to become.
Clarity often produces conflict. When I leave the house with my three boys, I tell them, "Y'all in charge?" "Yes, sir." When I get back home, they're about to fight. "I told so and so to do so and so." "Well, I told him he needs to do so and so." Now they fight because they didn't know who was in charge. I gave them clarity, and Xander is the oldest—Xander is in charge. But they say, "But why? I gave you what you asked for."
Stop thinking when you give people clarity, they're going to get comfort. Sometimes clarity causes chaos because they don't like what they heard from you. "I love you, but I just don't want to be with you anymore." "But why?" "It just doesn't work for me." "But why?" You can't keep asking me questions to fit the version of my answer that fits your reality.
When God starts revealing new dimensions of your assignment, some people don't misunderstand you. They just selectively understand you.
I speak over your life that you are in a season where God has given you so much clarity about your assignment, so much clarity about who you are in him that the boldness that comes with it is about to shake your life forever.
If they don't want to be in your life, let them walk. If they don't want to understand, let them misunderstand.
