View from a Pew: Protect Your Peace

I've learned over the years that wisdom doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers—after you’ve been hurt one too many times, after you’ve prayed and still felt uneasy, maybe life is telling you to, “Pay attention.”

Be careful who you complain to. Everybody who listens is not interceding. Some folks don’t want to help you heal—they want material. They want your wounds as conversation pieces, your struggles as entertainment, your testimony before it’s even finished. And hear me clearly: if a person talks about everybody to you, don’t flatter yourself—they will talk about you to everybody. That’s not fellowship; that’s a warning. Keep such people at arm’s length.

And let me say this plainly—competition is not companionship. If someone is always measuring themselves against you, always side-eyeing your growth, always trying to one-up your joy, that is not your friend. A real friend claps when you win. A real friend thanks God for your elevation without feeling diminished by it.

Not every invitation deserves your presence. Every open door is not God-ordained. Protect your peace. Protect your home—your spirit, your mind, your energy. Don’t leave every door open just because somebody knows how to knock. Some people don’t come to add; they come to access.

When someone keeps taking from you but never pours back, don’t romanticize it. That is not love—that is convenience. Love gives. Love shows up. Love reciprocates. Convenience disappears when you stop serving a purpose.

Watch people quietly. They will always show you who they are if you don’t rush to explain them away. Don’t rush trust. Trust is sacred. Your life is your responsibility. Relatives can advise. Friends can speak. Church folks can quote Scripture. But you must decide what brings you peace.

And let me tell you something else I’ve learned: a peaceful life is better than a crowded one. Too many voices will drown out your discernment. Everybody doesn’t need a vote in your decisions.

Never be afraid to walk away from what is hurting you. It is better to walk alone in peace than to stand surrounded by pain just to say you’re not alone.

Here’s the revelation that changed everything for me: You cannot pull people out of places they are committed to staying in.

Some folks aren’t stuck—they’re settled. They’re not lost—they’re comfortable. And all the potential you see in them won’t matter if they refuse to see it in themselves.

You will wear yourself out trying to upgrade someone who is satisfied with the bare minimum. You will drain your spirit trying to motivate someone who would rather complain than change. You will lose your peace trying to fix people who benefit from being broken.

You must accept people for who they are—not who you keep imagining they could be. Stop rewriting their character when their actions have already given you the full script.

Now let me help somebody: acceptance is not quitting. Acceptance is growing up. It is realizing that leaving someone where they choose to stand is not cruelty—it’s clarity.

Not every action deserves your reaction. Some situations are lessons in discipline, not debates. Some people reveal so much about themselves that responding would only pull you into the chaos they’ve normalized.

When you stop reacting to everything, your peace gets louder. When you stop trying to rescue people, your purpose gets clearer. When you stop chasing potential, you start attracting alignment.

Leaving people where you found them does not make you heartless. It makes you honest. It means you finally respect your own growth enough to stop shrinking for people who are comfortable staying small.

I can tell you this much: Peace is not weakness. Distance is not disrespect. And walking away is sometimes the most faithful thing you can do.

Because God didn’t call you to save everybody—He called you to be whole.