The Hardest Part is Not Pretending

Even Jesus felt it, and didn’t fake it.

Beloved Friend,

Have you ever been going through something so hard, and then someone is trying to give you advice, and in your head you’re just like, “Please, I beg you in the name of God, just stop talking.” Because they don’t get it. You know they don’t. They’re out here saying, “Don’t be offended,” or “Just forgive,” or “You know what the Bible says,” and you’re just like, “If you were in my shoes ehn, you wouldn’t be quoting scripture like that. You’d be crying.”

Sometimes, it’s like people are trying to fix something they’ve never experienced. And no matter how ‘right’ their words are, you’re not even listening because they don’t understand the weight you’re carrying. Like someone will just drop “God will not give you more than you can bear” and go. Bro. Did I ask for it?

Now, I’ve been thinking; isn’t it wild that we sometimes carry that same energy to God?

Like, we know He’s all-knowing and all-powerful and all-present, but there are days when the weight is so heavy and we’re like, “God, abeg. Are You seeing what I’m going through at all? Do You even understand this?” And somehow, we start acting like He’s too far above to feel what we feel.

But He’s not.

Scripture says, “We do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…” (Hebrews 4:15). In plain English: Jesus gets it.

He didn’t just come to earth to tick off a salvation checklist and zoom back up. He came and felt life.

He felt betrayal.

He felt hunger.

He felt what it means to be tempted in private, under pressure.

He felt shame; literal nakedness and beatings in public.

He felt what it meant to be misunderstood.

He felt silence.

He felt restraint; that moment when someone deserves a hot reply and you hold it in. He felt that.

He lived on this same earth. Walked with dusty feet. Had people test Him, drag Him, twist His words, and still… He stayed generous. And pure.

But how? That’s what I kept asking. How?

And the answer keeps pointing back to the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit didn’t just drop into Jesus’ life for the three years of public ministry. From day one, He lived yielded. The Holy Spirit kept Him. Not because He was using a cheat code, but because He fully leaned into the Father’s will.

And the same Spirit that helped Him? He didn’t take it back to heaven.

He gave it. To us.

To me.

To you.

I don’t know who told us the Holy Spirit in Jesus was somehow “Version 1” and ours is “lite”. Nah. It’s the same One. Same power. Same presence. Same keeping grace. We’ve just not yielded fully the way Jesus did.

And I know, we try. We really do. We fast, we pray, we journal, we go on retreats, we set boundaries. But sometimes it still feels like we’re just surviving in cycles. Two months strong, then boom, a moment of weakness. One week of spiritual high, then two weeks of silence. Telling one “harmless” lie to save face. Holding a grudge because “you don’t know what they did to me.” Trying again. Falling again. Starting over. Again.

But imagine what happens when we stop trying to manage our Christian life like a checklist, and just yield.

Like… really yield.

Like, “Holy Spirit, I cannot do this on my own. Come and keep me.”

Like, “Help me not just resist sin, but hate it.”

Like, “Help me not just forgive with my mouth, but let go with my heart.”

I don’t think Jesus just came to die and go. He came to show.

That it’s possible to live holy.

That it’s possible to stand.

That it’s possible to not burn out, even with pressure.

That it’s possible to live above reproach; not by effort, but by yielding.

And if we’re being honest, He’s coming back soon.

So when Scripture says He’s coming for a church without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27), I’m like, “Holy Spirit, help me o. Because me, I want to be part of that spotless crew. No makeup of mercy will cover what only sanctification can.”

Let me stop here before my heart starts spilling all over this page.

But really… I’m learning that Jesus didn’t just show us the destination, He walked out the process.

And the same Spirit that kept Him can keep us.

We’re not doing this alone.

So today, I pray for you (and for me too):

That we’ll stop trying to “perform holiness” and start leaning into the Spirit.

That we’ll remember He knows, He sees, and still; He stayed.

And now He calls us to stay. To be kept. To press in. To yield.

And when He returns, may He find us, not perfect in our own strength, but perfected in Him. Amen?

With thoughts of kindness,

ABBA’s Shofar