I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, mostly from loving too hard, staying too long, and seeing the best in people who didn’t see the same in me. I don’t say that to sound great. I say it because it’s true.
I’m a giver. Always have been. Caring for people, helping people, showing up for people, that’s how I’m wired. But somewhere along the way, I learned that having a big heart doesn’t always protect you from being broken.
One day, my mom looked at me and said, “Your heart is too big.” I smiled and said, “It’s the one God gave me.”
She gave me that look, the kind that says, “I’ve lived a lot longer than you”, and then dropped a truth on me that I’ll never forget: “You see the good in everyone. But everyone is not good.”
Let that sit with you for a minute.
Some of us are trying to stay loyal to people, jobs, or situations that have already let us go. We haven’t been invited to the table in years, yet we’re still sitting there, hoping, waiting, giving, and shrinking ourselves to fit where we no longer belong.
Loyalty is a good thing, until it becomes a prison.
Staying somewhere that no longer honors you isn’t loyalty. It’s self-betrayal. Remaining in a relationship that drains you, at a job that diminishes you, or around people who only tolerate you: that’s not strength. That’s bondage.
Proverbs 4:23 says, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it."
So why are we letting people handle our hearts with dirty hands?
There’s something holy about walking away when God says, “That season is over.” It’s not quitting. It’s obeying. Because when you don’t do what you know is right in your spirit, it’s like locking yourself in a prison while holding the key.
You don’t need someone else’s permission. You don’t need the perfect moment. Why? Because deep down, you already know. Not because I said it. Not because anyone else did. But because God’s been whispering it all along.
Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, “For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven." So let me ask you: what season are you pretending hasn’t ended?
Loyalty, like respect, isn’t automatic. It’s earned.
You can’t keep giving your best to people or places that never respected you to begin with. You're not weak for letting go. You're wise. You're not bitter for choosing peace. You're maturing.
Jesus said something in Matthew 10:14 that’s easy to read but hard to live: “If anyone doesn’t welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave."
That sounds simple, right? But it’s actually deep. Back then, shaking the dust off your feet meant, “I’m not carrying anything from this place, not even the smallest piece of it, into where I’m going next.”
Jesus wasn’t just talking about people rejecting you. He was showing us how to let go. When something no longer receives you; whether it’s a person, a job, a space, or even a season, it’s okay to walk away without guilt.
And it’s not about saying, “I don’t care.” It’s saying, “I do care, but not at the expense of my peace.”
Sometimes you stay at a job that drains you because you’re scared to leave. Sometimes you keep pouring into someone who’s already shown they don’t value you. Sometimes you try to force open a door that God already closed. And the whole time, you’re carrying frustration, sadness, and disappointment like dust on your feet.
But Jesus says, “You don’t have to carry that. You’re allowed to leave what didn’t work and walk forward in peace.”
Shaking the dust doesn’t mean you failed. It means you’re free. So if something no longer gives life; if God is nudging your heart to move on: it’s okay. You’re not quitting. You’re obeying. You’re releasing it with love, not resentment. And you’re making room for what’s next.
Psalm 1:1 says, “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly…" That includes ungodly advice, environments, and expectations.
You are someone incredible. So treat yourself like it.
It takes courage to walk away. It takes faith to believe God still has more. But you can’t step into the new while dragging the old behind you.
You may say you’re waiting on the right time. But how long have you already waited?
Here’s something I learned the hard way: The perfect time to do what’s right? It’s not coming.
There’s only now, and you can’t afford to waste it.
Isaiah 43:19 says, “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
God is doing a new thing: are you ready to move with Him?
The worst thing a man or woman can do is betray their own conscience. When God gives you clarity, move. When peace starts to fade, pay attention.
Because freedom is waiting.
Peace is waiting.
You are waiting: on YOU.
Pray with me:
God,
I’ve stayed in some places longer than You asked me to. I’ve called it love, called it faithfulness, called it strength, but deep down, I knew it was fear. Thank You for being patient with me. Thank You for loving me enough to let me feel the pressure of a season that’s ending. Help me to obey You with peace, not guilt. Teach me to let go without bitterness. Show me how to walk away with grace. Give me the strength to shake the dust, and the courage to believe that You’re still doing a new thing in me.
