Stop Preaching, Live the Word

 

Ladies and Gentlemen of the cloth (and those aspiring to wear it),

Brothers and Sisters of the sacred microphone,
Distinguished Bishops of Biblical Banter,
Reverends of Reverberating Repetition,

I bring you no greetings, for we have all heard enough of those on Sunday morning. Instead, I bring you a word. Not “a word from the Lord,” but a word about you and me—professional talkers of the Word.

Let’s admit it: We love preaching. We preach in pulpits, on buses, in WhatsApp statuses, and sometimes even in our sleep. If there were Olympic medals for preaching, many of us would have already opened our own display cabinets by now. Preaching is our superpower. But here’s the problem:

We are preaching the Light without being the Light.

Oh yes, we know how to roar like lions in the microphone, but in traffic we behave like devils with horns. We declare, “Let your light so shine,” then spend the rest of the week hiding it under the bushel of bitterness, gossip, and ego.

We quote entire books of the Bible, but can’t quote one neighbour who thinks we’re kind.

We declare, “You shall know them by their fruits,” but if someone dared to taste ours, they might ask for spiritual antacids.

We shout, “Holiness unto the Lord!” while secretly negotiating contracts with Pharaoh. And don't get me started on how we preach humility with the body language of a small god. It's miraculous how we can deliver a message about pride with so much pride.

We have turned the pulpit into a stage, the anointing into a performance, and the sermon into a showreel.

Where is the Light?

We preach "Jesus is the way,” but the way we treat our staff, our spouses, and those who can't tithe 500 cedis is a GPS nightmare.
We preach “God is love,” but even mosquitoes get more affection from us than the people who annoy us.
We preach “Blessed are the peacemakers,” but online we fight like baptized keyboard warriors.

And the congregation? Oh, they’ve noticed. They’ve watched us preach against worldliness and then fight for front-row seats at worldly banquets. They’ve seen us thunder against sin on Sunday and slip into it quietly by Tuesday.

So here’s a revolutionary idea:

What if we… lived the Word?

Yes, I know it sounds radical. Dangerous even. But imagine a world where preachers became practitioners. Where our sermons were not just heard, but seen. Where our greatest message was not behind a mic, but in a moment of selfless service. Where instead of shouting “Repent!” at strangers, we quietly invited them into our homes and loved them with truth and grace.

Jesus didn’t say, “You are the preachers of the world.”
He said, “You are the LIGHT of the world.”

Light doesn’t talk. It simply shines. No megaphone. No mic. Just presence. Just power. Just clarity in darkness.

So maybe it’s time we put the sermon notes down and picked up a broom. Maybe we need fewer conferences and more confessions. Fewer expositions and more examples.

And maybe, just maybe, the world would believe our message if it could finally see it in us.

Preach less. Shine more.

And if you must preach, preach with your life.

DON'T BURN BRIDGES

The Power of Forgiveness and Mending Broken Relationships

In life, relationships are the bridges that connect us to opportunities, wisdom, healing, support, and growth. Whether in our personal lives or professional paths, the people we meet and interact with form a web of influence and impact that we often don’t fully appreciate until those relationships are strained—or gone altogether.

There’s an old saying: “Don’t burn bridges—you may need to cross them again.” Yet in moments of conflict, misunderstanding, or disappointment, the urge to sever ties can feel justified. Anger demands immediate action. Pride insists on silence. Hurt screams for distance. But burning a bridge is easy—rebuilding one takes time, humility, and grace. And often, in the ruins of a broken relationship lies the key to something we deeply need in the future: wisdom, restoration, peace, or even a divine redirection.

Relationships Are Investments, Not Transactions

Every healthy relationship is built on trust, time, and vulnerability. Whether it's a colleague, friend, family member, mentor, or even someone you once mentored, your history together carries weight. When we walk away from people because they have disappointed us or failed to meet our expectations, we risk discarding years of shared experiences that could be redeemed with a conversation and a little humility.

People change. Perspectives shift. Sometimes, what seemed like a betrayal was just a misunderstanding. It’s dangerous to assume that today’s offence justifies a permanent severance. Remember: relationships are not perfect because people aren't perfect. But they are worth protecting because people are worth redeeming.

Forgiveness Is Strength, Not Weakness

Forgiveness doesn’t excuse what someone did—it frees you from being controlled by it. When we refuse to forgive, we carry a silent burden that bleeds into other areas of our lives. Unforgiveness can quietly harden the heart, making us cynical, guarded, and slow to trust even those who mean well.

Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. It’s the decision to release someone from the prison of our expectations, and in doing so, we release ourselves too. True maturity is being able to say, “You hurt me, but I won’t let that define how I treat you or remember you.”

And in choosing forgiveness, we keep the bridge standing. We keep the possibility open for healing, growth, and reconnection.

Reconciliation Is Not Always Immediate, But It Should Always Be Possible

You may not always be able to return to what was. Some relationships will shift in nature or change permanently after betrayal or deep hurt. That’s okay. Reconciliation doesn't always mean returning to closeness; sometimes it means restoring peace, respect, or understanding. But the door should never be slammed shut completely.

A kind word, a sincere apology, a phone call, or a thoughtful message can begin the rebuilding process. Even if the other person doesn’t respond, you've taken the high road. And often, when the time is right, hearts soften and healing begins.

The World Is Smaller Than You Think

Whether in ministry, business, education, or family life, paths often cross again. That colleague you fell out with? You may meet them again in another organisation. That friend you stopped speaking to? Your children may attend the same school someday. That church member you cut off? You may need their help—or their forgiveness—later.

How you treat people in conflict reveals more about your character than how you treat them when things are going well. Let your legacy be one of grace, not grudges.

Relationships Reflect the Heart of God

At the core of the gospel is reconciliation—God restoring His relationship with humanity through Christ. If God didn’t burn His bridge to us in our mess, why are we so quick to burn bridges with others?

Scripture reminds us in Romans 12:18: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”That doesn’t mean tolerate abuse or ignore repeated harm, but it does mean choosing peace, even when justice is not fully served on your terms.

Be a Bridge Builder

The world has enough cynicism, division, and brokenness. Be someone who repairs, not one who rips apart. Be someone who reaches out, not recoils. Be someone who sees the image of God in people, even when that image is clouded by hurt, conflict, or misunderstanding.

Before you burn a bridge, ask yourself: Can this be fixed? Can I forgive? Can we heal? More often than not, the answer is YES.

So take the call. Send the message. Say sorry. Choose love.

Because in the end, relationships matter more than pride, and grace travels farther than grudges.