Put The Hammer Down
The Discipline of Restraint.
Not every problem is mine to fix. Not every person is mine to shape.
When I confuse control with leadership, I do damage — even with good intentions.
Some lessons don’t feel spiritual at first — they just feel frustrating.
Like trying to force growth into people who aren’t ready.
There’s an expression that says you can’t force a square peg into a round hole.
If I’m honest… I’ve tried.
I’ve told myself, “Yes I can. I just need the right tools.”
So I start shaving the corners.
Widening the hole.
Applying pressure.
And what I don’t see in the moment is that I’m changing the shape of things that weren’t meant to be shaped by me.
I’ve done this in my desire to help people.
I’ve wanted someone to:
Make better decisions
Grow faster
See their need for God
Tighten up what I can clearly see is loose
And I push.
One of my greatest challenges has been trying to teach someone who already thinks they know.
Especially leaders.
Especially men who believe they’ve already arrived.
The guy who’s “already saved.”
Already sharp.
Already experienced.
He just needs a tweak. Just one more thing.
It reminds me of The Jerk ———— when Steve Martin keeps saying, “I just need this one more thing… and that’s all I need.”
I’ve watched that mindset in others.
If I’m really honest… I’ve seen it in myself.
Thinking I’m close.
Thinking I’ve got it together.
Thinking what I need is refinement, not surrender.
Missing what I actually need because I’m convinced I already have it.
And when I try to force growth into someone who believes they’re finished growing, the friction multiplies.
I can harden someone instead of helping them, I can create resistance instead of reflection, and I can turn truth into a power struggle.
There’s another saying: “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.”
And if I’m not careful… I can drown that horse trying.
That’s on me.
I don’t want to confuse urgency with obedience.
I don’t want to hammer where God is whispering.
I want to build people, but I’m learning they have to want to be built.
And I have to remember that I’m not finished either.
The moment I think I only need “one more thing”
might be the moment I’ve stopped listening entirely.
Restraint is strength.
Timing matters.
And sometimes the most mature move I can make
is to stop forcing the peg,
step back from the trough,
and let God work on both of us.
Because He is the Master Builder of all creation.
Not me.
Psalm 127:1 says:
“Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.”
