Hurry Feels Heavy

There was a time when I believed that if I worked harder, posted more, spoke louder, and rushed every opportunity, success would arrive sooner. I thought that speed was the language of progress.

But I have discovered something completely different.

Hurry feels heavy.

Not because the work is heavy, but because rushing carries a weight that God never asked me to carry.

When I hurry, I begin to think everything depends on me. I start forcing conversations. I chase opportunities that are not meant for me. I compare my timeline with someone else's success. I become anxious when orders don't come in quickly enough. I start measuring my worth by numbers instead of faithfulness.

Hurry slowly convinces us that God's timing is too slow.

Yet nowhere in creation do we see God rushing.

The sun never rushes to rise. The seasons never compete with one another. Fruit never apologises for taking time to ripen. A seed does not panic because the tree has not appeared overnight.

Everything God creates follows a process.

Even Jesus, though He knew His purpose from the beginning, walked patiently through every season. He did not heal every person in one day. He did not force people to believe. He never hurried because He knew His Father's timing was perfect.

That has become my reminder.

Nothing God produces is rushed.

Not fruit. Not healing. Not character. Not businesses. Not families. Not purpose.

And certainly not me.

When I look back over the past months, I realise something beautiful happened.

The more I slowed down, the more peace I found.

I stopped posting out of desperation and started sharing from a place of gratitude.

I stopped chasing customers and began serving the ones God placed in front of me.

I stopped lowering my prices because I was afraid people would leave.

I stopped believing that every opportunity had to become my opportunity.

Instead, I remained faithful with what was already in my hands.

And quietly, God kept sending the right people.

One order became another.

One conversation became another customer.

One faithful step became another testimony.

None of it happened because I forced it.

It happened because I learned to trust.

I now believe that hurry is often fear wearing the clothes of productivity.

It tells us we are falling behind.

Faith whispers that we are exactly where God is shaping us.

When I hurry, I become exhausted.

When I trust, I become available.

There is a difference.

One is driven by pressure.

The other is led by peace.

I still work hard. I still plan. I still dream. I still build LMB Naturals with everything God has given me.

But I refuse to build it in panic.

I want to build slowly enough that my character grows with my calling.

Because what good is reaching a destination if I lose my peace along the way?

So today I choose a different pace.

Not laziness.

Not delay.

But peaceful diligence.

I will plant.

I will water.

I will remain faithful, and I will leave the harvest in God's hands.

Because I have learned one simple truth that I never want to forget:

Hurry feels heavy, but God's pace always carries peace.

When Desperation Becomes Devotion

This morning, while getting ready for work, I listened to the book of Psalms. From Psalm 1 through Psalm 37, I found myself listening more carefully than usual—not just to David's words, but to his heart.

One moment he was praising God.

The next moment he was crying out, "Lord, do not forsake me."

Then he was asking for forgiveness.

Then he was declaring God's faithfulness.

Then he was pleading for justice.

It struck me that God preserved every one of those prayers. He didn't only preserve David's victories; He preserved his fears, his doubts, his questions, his anguish, and even his moments of desperation.

That encouraged me.

For so many years I believed that faith meant always being strong. But the Psalms teach something different. Faith is not pretending that everything is fine. Faith is bringing everything to God, knowing that He can handle every emotion we place before Him.

As I continued listening, my thoughts moved to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Jesus Himself prayed,

"Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done."

Those words have stayed with me.

How many times have I prayed,

"Lord, take this burden away."

"Lord, remove this struggle."

"Lord, change this situation."

Those prayers are not wrong. God invites us to bring our burdens to Him.

But somewhere between David's cries and Jesus' surrender, I realised something.

There is another sentence that changes everything.

"Not my will, but Yours be done."

That sentence is not one of defeat.

It is one of trust.

It is the prayer of someone who has come to believe that even when God does not immediately remove the burden, He will never remove His presence.

As I reflected on my own journey, I realised that I have prayed many desperate prayers over the years.

Prayers about finances.

Prayers about my marriage.

Prayers about friendships.

Prayers about rejection.

Prayers about work.

Prayers about purpose.

Looking back now, I can honestly say that many of those prayers were answered—but not always in the way I expected.

Sometimes God changed my circumstances.

Sometimes He changed me.

Looking back, I am grateful for both.

Today I no longer wake up with the same desperation I once carried. Life still has challenges. There are still moments of uncertainty, moments when my heart becomes concerned, moments when I have questions that only God can answer.

But something inside me has changed.

My first response is no longer panic.

It is worship.

That does not mean I have become stronger than everyone else.

It simply means that I have discovered the faithfulness of God one day at a time.

One answered prayer at a time.

One ordinary day of obedience at a time.

There is something else I never want to forget.

When God brings us out of despair, we can become so comfortable in His blessings that we forget the valley where we first learned to trust Him.

I do not ever want to forget those moments.

Not because I want to relive them.

Not because I want to keep telling stories about my pain.

But because I never want to lose my gratitude.

The valleys taught me to pray.

The waiting taught me patience.

The disappointments taught me surrender.

The silence taught me to listen.

Those seasons were never wasted.

But I also refuse to build my life around my past struggles.

God did not rescue me so that I could spend the rest of my life staring back at the pit.

He rescued me so that I could keep walking forward.

I can remember the valley without living there.

I can honour the lessons without carrying the weight.

I can tell the story without reopening the wound.

That, to me, is maturity.

Perhaps this is what spiritual growth really looks like.

Not a life without tears.

Not a life without questions.

But a heart that has learned where to take those tears and questions.

Today my prayer is simple.

Lord, may I never forget the days when I cried out to You in desperation. Those moments taught me that You are faithful. But also help me never to become so attached to yesterday's pain that I fail to see today's grace. Let me remember Your faithfulness more than I remember my fear. Let me carry gratitude instead of grief. And above all, let my life become a quiet testimony that You have always been enough.

"Never forget the valley that introduced you to God's faithfulness, but never make the valley your permanent address. God walks us through valleys—not so we can live there, but so we can discover that He never left our side."

Friday, 17 July 2026 — Daily Manna

Reflections from Daily Encounters

This morning, I can honestly say that I am mentally drained.

My body is tired.

Not because this week was bad.

It was actually a good week.

Finances were incredibly tight, yet every single day there was provision.

Every single day there was daily manna.

This week taught me something that is far more difficult than I imagined.

It isn't always difficult to trust God once.

Sometimes the greatest challenge is trusting Him again tomorrow...

and again the next day...

and again after that.

I realised that much of my tiredness came from resisting the temptation to worry about tomorrow's needs.

Jesus said not to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.

Living those words requires far more faith than simply reading them.

This week I chose, day after day, to return my thoughts to God instead of allowing fear to lead them.

It wasn't easy.

But here I am.

Still standing.

Still grateful.

Still trusting.

I also have customer payments that are only due at the end of the month.

I made a conscious decision not to pressure anyone for payment before it is due.

Not because I don't need the money.

I do.

But because I want my business to be built on integrity rather than fear.

God has never asked me to build my future through anxiety.

He has asked me to remain faithful.

And today, that is enough.

Sometimes the greatest miracle is not receiving everything you need at once.

Sometimes the miracle is discovering that God has faithfully provided just enough every single day.

That is daily manna.

And daily manna has never failed me.

And I'd leave you with this thought for today:

Faith is often exhausting because it asks us to release tomorrow into God's hands while remaining faithful with today. Yet every evening becomes another testimony that today's manna was enough.

When I abandoned Me.

It’s been a while since I’ve written like this…

And today, as I sit at my desk,

I find myself reflecting.

There are real needs… real pressures.

But even in that… I had a realization.

Nothing I’m facing now compares to what I felt before.

Last year — especially around November 2026 —

I was not okay.

Not financially…not emotionally… and definitely mentally.

I felt weak.

I felt overwhelmed.

And if I’m honest… I FELT SMALL.

There was a moment I will never forget.

When my colleague called me in

to speak about my work.

She spoke about mistakes I continued to make.

Pointed out everything that was going wrong.

And I remember standing there…

So nervous.

So shaken.

I couldn’t even gather myself properly.

And then I said it…

Words that came straight from a place of fear:

“You make me nervous…

I don’t know how to hold myself together around you…

You make me scared…

I don’t want to lose my job.”

And in that moment…

I felt like I was nothing.

Like I was the tail…and she was the head. I felt this all because of one

person, an individual just like me. The difference is, she is in a highter position only at our workplace but, a sister in Christ.

That moment stayed with me.

Because it revealed something deeper:

I had given my power away.

I literally abandoned myself. 

And from there…

Everything started to fall apart. I have never in my life prayed for time to just fly. 

I made more mistakes.

I couldn’t think clearly.

I carried fear into everything I did.

I had terrible headaches and drank more pain tablets than I normally would. I literally felt ashamed of myself and just wanted to die.

I felt I couldn’t speak to anyone but God and record everything in my journal. 

I would sit at my desk…

crying inside. Not wanting to come to work. Feeling like a cloud was hanging over me. Until eventually…

I received a verbal warning.

Look, work is work. The leader in the workplace also has pressure but believe me they will always make sure they are above you no matter what the cost.

And looking back now…

I see it clearly:

It wasn’t just the situation…

It was how much power I had handed over.

But today… 8 months later, sitting 

in the same space…

I realize something has shifted.

I am not that person anymore.

Yes, challenges are still there.

There are still pressure all over the place. Work is still challenging most of the tim. My colleague  is still above me in the workplace but the difference is…

It no longer controls me.

Because I’ve learned something powerful:

No one has power over me

unless I give it to them.

And today…

I no longer shrink.

I no longer feel like “nothing.”

I no longer carry fear into every moment.

I am aware.

I am grounded.

I am steady.

Because now I understand:

My power does not come from people.

It comes from being aligned with God.

And when I stay aligned…

No voice around me

can overpower the voice within me.

Reminder

The moment you feel like nothing…

is often the moment you’ve forgotten where your power comes from.

Declaration

I take back my power.

I will not shrink for anyone.

I am no longer who I was — I am stronger, aware, and aligned.

From "What Do I Have?" to "Who Am I Becoming?"

There was a time in my life when I measured everything by what I had.

Did I have enough money? Did I have enough recognition? Did I have enough support? Did I have enough opportunities?

When those things were missing, I felt as though something was missing from me.

But somewhere along the journey, God quietly began changing the question.

Instead of asking, "What do I have?" He began asking me, "Who are you becoming?"

That question changed everything.

Life has not suddenly become easy.

There are still financial challenges. There are still disappointments. There are still people who misunderstand me. There are still moments when I have to choose silence instead of defending myself.

But something inside me has changed.

I've learned that I never want to abandon myself again.

Not by chasing people's approval. Not by allowing someone else's behaviour to determine mine. Not by compromising my values just because someone else compromised theirs.

One of the greatest lessons I've learned is this:

Don't build with revenge. Build with integrity.

Revenge may feel satisfying for a moment, but integrity builds a life that can withstand every season.

I've discovered that peace doesn't come when everyone starts treating me fairly.

Peace comes when my heart, my words, and my actions agree with one another.

There is a freedom that comes from knowing you've done the right thing, even when no one notices.

If you've been treated unfairly... If you've been misunderstood... If you've been overlooked... If someone has wounded your heart...

Don't allow their actions to shape your character.

Let them shape your wisdom.

One Scripture has become an anchor in my life:

"Barricade the road that goes nowhere; grace me with Your clear revelation."

Psalm 119:29

Every day I pray those words.

Lord, don't just change my circumstances.

Change my direction.

Block every road that leads me back to bitterness, resentment, comparison, and self-abandonment.

Lead me onto the road where integrity is more valuable than being right. Because at the end of the day, the greatest victory isn't proving someone wrong.

It's becoming the person God is calling me to be.

Today, my prayer is simple:

"Lord, guard my heart while I walk among them."

May I never stop choosing kindness. May I never stop choosing wisdom. May I never stop becoming.

The Strength of a Gentle Man

Lately, I've noticed something beautiful.

More and more men are quietly stepping into a season of looking after themselves.

Not because someone told them to. Not because they're trying to impress anyone. But because they are beginning to understand that caring for themselves is not weakness—it is wisdom.

As the owner of LMB Naturals, I've been surprised and encouraged by how many men have started purchasing my products. Some of them are the very men people would describe as "hardcore"—strong, hardworking, practical men.

Yet they choose to care for their skin. They choose to look presentable. They choose to invest in themselves.

And I think that's wonderful.

Somewhere along the way, many men were taught that they always had to be tough, silent, and carry everything alone. That asking for help, showing emotion, or taking care of themselves somehow made them "soft."

But I don't believe gentleness makes a man weak.

In fact, it takes confidence to care for yourself without worrying about what others might think.

I've seen this in my own home, too. Marco has started using my skincare products. I can encourage him, but ultimately he has to make the choice for himself. Watching him take that small step reminds me that growth often begins with the simplest decisions.

A strong man isn't someone who ignores himself.

A strong man knows that he cannot keep pouring from an empty cup.

Looking after your health... Looking after your appearance... Looking after your heart... Looking after your peace...

These aren't signs of weakness.

They are signs of maturity.

To every man reading this:

It's okay to take care of yourself.

It's okay to wear clothes that make you feel confident.

It's okay to look after your skin.

It's okay to rest.

It's okay to grow.

You don't become less of a man by caring for yourself.

You become a better steward of the life God has given you.

Strength and gentleness can live in the same heart.

And I believe the strongest men are often the ones who quietly choose both.

— Leslene Britz

LMB Naturals – Gracefully Made. Naturally Yours.