Stack Bricks, No Excuses

Most mornings I wake up with a tired body and a to-do list that doesn’t care. There’s a company to build, a family to lead, a soul to tend to and not enough hours or energy to feel like any of it is working. The world says to "hustle," but the Bible calls it obedience. and that’s harder.

I’m not building this because I feel limitless. I’m building it because I’m called.

That’s what holy tension feels like.

The Illusion of Perfect Conditions

If you wait to build until you’re rested, funded, motivated, and fully clear on the plan, you’ll die with clean hands and an empty legacy.

Obedience rarely happens when the conditions are right.

It happens when you’ve got just enough left in the tank to stack one more brick.

I’ve worked long shifts, walked through the door with sore feet, stared at a blinking cursor or an unfinished script or a half-clean shed, and asked, “Is this going to be worth it?”

I’ve felt the shame of slow progress. The guilt of giving my best hours to work and my leftovers to my calling. The mental tug-of-war of wanting to make something excellent for God while barely keeping the rest of life from falling apart.

But the brick doesn't care how I feel. It just needs to be placed.

Jesus Was a Builder

Jesus didn’t launch a ministry as a child prodigy. He spent most of His earthly life quietly working with His hands, stacking wood, measuring beams, shaping stone.

He knew what it meant to be tired from a day’s work. He was familiar with the slow process of construction. And then, when the Father said it was time, He stepped into the work of redemption.

So why do I think my obedience should feel like a highlight reel?

The problem isn’t that we’re tired.

The problem is that we’ve been told being tired means stopping.

But sometimes, being tired just means you’re doing something that matters.

What You Build Builds You

We all want the fruit of obedience without the repetition.

But character doesn’t grow through the flash, it grows through the brickwork.

Every time I get home and choose to write when I’d rather scroll...

Every time I film a video, when I’d rather sleep...

Every time I pray with my kids when I could just zone out...

That’s a brick.

Small. Forgettable. Faithful.

Stack enough, and you’ll look up one day and see a wall that hell itself can’t knock down.

We’re not called to flash. We’re called to faithfulness.

And faithfulness often looks like sweating in the silence.

Don’t Romanticize the Process. Honor It.

It’s tempting to turn every act of obedience into a motivational speech. But most of the building process is unromantic. It’s just grit. It’s showing up when no one’s watching. It’s doing the reps in obscurity and trusting that God sees the whole frame when I only see the next brick.

There are no hacks to the Holy.

There’s only the question:

Will I be faithful even when I’m exhausted and unseen?

Brick by Brick. That’s the Altar.

You want to build something that glorifies God? Stack your bricks with worship.

Don’t just build a brand. Build an altar. Don’t just chase freedom. Chase obedience. Don’t just avoid excuses. Kill them.

We don’t get to choose the weight of the calling. But we do get to choose what we carry to the altar each day, and most days, it’s the decision to give God our tired “yes.”

The Thread Forward

Some men never build because they’re waiting for the energy.

Some start strong and quit when the applause doesn’t come.

But you?

You stack bricks in the quiet.

You bleed into blueprints only you can see.

You keep building, not because it’s easy, but because it’s holy.

Because every brick you lay in obedience

Every word written while tired,

Every prayer whispered on fumes,

Every act of faith when no one’s clapping

is forming something eternal.

You’re not just building a business.

You’re building an altar.

You’re not just stacking content.

You’re stacking stones of remembrance for your children, your church, and your King.

And one day, when the house is standing

You won’t boast in the blueprint.

You’ll say, “God gave the strength, and I laid the bricks.”

That’s the sacred weight of building in holy tension:

Obedience today becomes a legacy tomorrow.