Get Your Weight Up
You can have the most developed muscles in the world and still be weak in one area—your spirit. You can look like the Incredible Hulk on the outside and still be spiritually underdeveloped on the inside. I’ve learned that physical strength means nothing if your spiritual muscles can’t carry the weight of your assignment.
Both of us have the gift of faith. We’ve believed God against all odds, and in many ways, we are the manifestation of each other’s prayers. But this season—this divine training ground—has required us to get our weight up again. God has been conditioning us to carry more, not in our bodies, but in our spirits.
Years ago, two handsome, buff men pursued me. To most, they would’ve been “the total package.” Muscles, confidence, charm. But when they flexed and asked if I liked strong men, I smiled—because physical strength is impressive, but it doesn’t move me like spiritual strength does. A man can’t lead me if he can’t lift in the spirit.
Recently, I heard Michael Bethany say, “People aren’t afraid of greatness—they’re afraid of the weight that comes with it.” That hit me hard. Because greatness carries a weight. And for me, those weights have been heavy. But when I looked back, I saw how meticulous God was—chiseling me, shaping me, and stretching me. I didn’t realize how massive the legacy was that He was calling me to recover. The process wasn’t punishment—it was preparation.
One of the hardest seasons of my life was during my previous marriage. When the enemy rushed into my home, my late ex-husband didn’t have the spiritual muscles to resist him. He was called to be a heavyweight in God, but he never developed the endurance. That pain taught me something: I was called to be a heavyweight in God too—and I had to build the strength to carry the weight of what he dropped.
We get knocked down sometimes, but it doesn’t mean the fight is over. Romans 8:18 says, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” Glory is heavy—but when you learn to stand under the pressure of pain, you learn to carry the weight of glory.
Like Moses, I asked to see God’s glory. And like Moses, God called me to the mountain—to a tight place in the cleft of the rock where I had to be hidden and refined. That place of consecration was painful. I wasn’t safe on the ground; I had to go higher. Every blow, every tear, every lonely night was training. I was building endurance.
It was like boxing training. A boxer doesn’t just build muscle; he builds muscular endurance to last twelve rounds. That’s what God was doing—training me to last through the fight of my life. These battles weren’t random; they were divinely orchestrated to break generational strongholds and build spiritual stamina.
There were nights I crawled, days I ran, and seasons I just stood still—but I kept moving. Because this fight was fixed. God had already declared victory.
I’ll never forget one night, my ex-husband came home after staying out again. I looked at him and said, “God called us to the multitudes. You’re responsible for four souls. If we’re faithful over little, He’ll make us ruler over much.” He broke down crying and said, “Those weights are too great.” I didn’t realize then that God was preparing me to carry what he could not.
Even after the divorce and his passing, God’s grace carried me through. He built my endurance through suffering so I could stand in glory. Sarah Jakes Roberts said it best—“Suffering has an intersection called glory.”
And now, I can say with confidence: God got His glory. We got our weight up. And we will finish strong.
“Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.” — 2 Timothy 2:3
Poetic Reflection: “One of a Kind”
You make me put on boxing gloves,
To come to blows explaining a love
Above all loves—
I fight on sight,
Trying to describe what I’ve never seen or heard.
When God put you back on that potter’s wheel,
It wasn’t just to heal—
It was so you could feel.
He kept you longer to make you stronger,
Deeper,
A keeper.
He increased your capacity, steepened your climb,
Because you’re a special edition—one of a kind.
He broke the mold, hid His wisdom inside,
And when He finished, He rested—
Because He made one of His best.
And heaven whispered the verdict:
It was good.