The Work of My Hands
I go hard because I know what it feels like to be controlled with money, to have to depend on someone else just to make it. That feeling never sat right with me. Because of that, I’ve always pushed myself to work. Sometimes that means two jobs, sometimes three, sometimes four, with a hustle on the side. Not because I’m trying to prove anything to anyone, but because I remember what it felt like to not have. I never wanted to be in a position where I was completely dependent on another human being just to survive.
But if I’m honest, when I look back over my life, I can clearly see that when I didn’t have much at all, God truly made a way for me. There were times when things were tight and uncertain, yet somehow everything I needed was provided. God showed up for me in ways that only He could. That’s something I will never forget. His provision in those seasons reminded me that even when we don’t see the full picture, God is still working behind the scenes.
Once I got to a place where I could do better, I made up my mind that I was going to go hard. Not just for myself, but for my children. I wanted to make sure we had the necessities of life food, shelter, and stability without constantly having to ask others for help when I knew I was fully able and capable of working. Now, I don’t knock how anyone else gets theirs. Everyone has their own story and their own circumstances. But for me, it has always been important that I work and bring something to the table.
There’s a saying that has always stuck with me: “God bless the child that has their own.” I’m not even sure if that’s actual scripture, but the principle behind it speaks to me. There is dignity in the work of your hands. The Bible says, “Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good…” (Ephesians 4:28, KJV). That scripture reminds me that honest work matters.
Let me be clear, I’m not trying to work myself into sickness or exhaustion. I’m not trying to prove that I can carry the whole world on my back. But I do understand responsibility. My home is a single-parent home, and sometimes that requires me to do extra and work extra because I am the one responsible. That reality comes with weight at times, but it also comes with purpose.
Even in the long days and the moments when it feels heavy, I believe that God uses the work of my hands to bless me. My needs are met through the effort I put in, through discipline, and through continuing to show up even when I’m tired. And when I step back and really think about it, I’m grateful. Grateful that I’m able to work. Grateful that my children are provided for. Grateful that even when it doesn’t always feel like it, progress is still being made.
Life isn’t always easy, and responsibility can feel heavy at times. But I know this much to be true: I’m still standing, still working, still trusting God, and still being intentional about how I move. And even when the journey gets tough, I remain thankful for the opportunity to provide through the work of my hands.