Don’t Hand Me What You Didn’t Pray About (Part 2)
- TJ DeLoatch
- Jan 25
- 3 min read
Peace is not polite. It’s practiced.
Let me say this clearly, because a lot of us were taught the wrong thing growing up:
Peace is not the same as being nice.
Nice is smiling while irritated.
Nice is answering when you should’ve paused.
Nice is “it’s fine” when it’s actually not fine at all.
Peace?
Peace is restraint.
Peace is knowing you could respond — and choosing not to.
And that distinction changed everything for me.
Because for a long time, I thought peace meant I sounded calm…
even when my spirit was doing cartwheels.
I wasn’t peaceful.
I was just well-behaved.
And those are not the same thing.
What peace looks like in real life (not Instagram)
Peace looks like reading a text and thinking,
“Yeah… I’m not answering this today.”
Peace looks like typing a response, deleting it, and closing the app without explaining why.
Peace looks like noticing your chest tighten in a conversation and realizing,
“Oh — this is about to cost me more than it’s worth.”
Peace looks like not matching tone.
Not because you’re afraid.
But because you’re selective.
Because not everything deserves your explanation.
Not everything deserves your emotional labor.
Not everything deserves access to you.
Some things deserve distance.
Some things deserve silence.
Some things deserve to stay unanswered.
And choosing that is not weakness — it’s discipline.
Lessons I’ve learned the grown way
Here’s what life actually taught me (not a quote graphic):
• Not every mood deserves access to you
• Not every argument deserves your attendance
• Silence is not avoidance — it’s control
• Calm is louder than chaos
• Not reacting is still a response
And honestly?
It’s usually the strongest one.
Because the people who are used to getting reactions from you
notice immediately when they don’t.
And that’s when you find out who was addicted to your availability
and who actually respected your peace.
The biggest shift for me
I stopped trying to prove I was right
and started protecting my peace.
Because being right still costs you something.
It costs energy.
It costs regulation.
It costs recovery time.
And I finally realized something that should’ve been obvious:
Some people want reactions, not resolution.
Some people want engagement, not peace.
Some people want access, not relationship.
And I don’t have to participate in that.
I don’t owe everyone a response.
I don’t owe everyone clarification.
I don’t owe everyone my nervous system.
What “don’t hand me what you didn’t pray about” means now
It means I’m not receiving what I don’t need to carry.
It means I’m not explaining myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.
It means I’m not responding just because I can.
It means I pause before I speak — not because I’m unsure,
but because I’m grounded.
It means I choose regulation over reaction.
It means I choose peace — not politeness.
Because peace isn’t soft.
Peace isn’t passive.
Peace is practiced.
And some versions of me were necessary at one point in my life…
but they’re not necessary now.
So yes — Part 1 was about not handing people what you didn’t pray about.
Part 2 is about not receiving what you don’t need to carry.
Not reacting to what’s trying to pull you backwards.
Not becoming who you used to be just because someone else hasn’t grown.
This isn’t about being above people.
It’s about being over dysfunction.
And being okay with that.
Don’t hand me what you didn’t pray about.
And don’t hand other people what they didn’t cause.
Want the full message?
This blog came from a sermon that goes deeper into the spiritual foundation behind this entire conversation.
Comments