Letting Go of “The Man”

 

Dear Reader,

It’s official—I’ve been slacking off from writing. Life has been pulling me in every direction: grad school, caretaking, church fellowship, and running LTI. It’s become too much for one man to handle. I need help—and soon. Not mental health help, though it wouldn’t hurt, but practical help.

Lately, I’ve been changing what I say and how I express myself because, despite my consistency, I still crave a space where I can change my mind, pivot, and explore my many interests, thoughts, and feelings.

As my relationships with my Christian brothers have deepened, I’ve taken on the responsibility of becoming more stable and consistent—something I once resisted. I used to see structure and planning as barriers to freedom. But I’ve come to realize that structure and consistency are not limitations—they’re extensions of my thinking. My previous lack of structure wasn’t due to external factors—it was because I wasn’t practicing it. I thought doing what I wanted when I wanted was empowering, but it only led to inconsistency, unfulfilling relationships, and a lack of direction.

As of this writing, I have no children—and thank God! Without the structure and consistency that parenting requires, my kids would be all over the place. Honestly, my art has been like a child: honest, but scattered—one minute this, one minute that. Who can rely on that? Who knows what they’re going to get from day to day? And what I’m learning about business is that people want to know what to expect. They don’t want to guess—or at least, they want a heads-up before you change. Think about how Meta transitioned from Facebook or how people still call X “Twitter” even though it’s been renamed for a while now. As an artist and business owner, people want to know what they can expect from me. And I want to stay relevant without compromising my spirit.

It would be easy to fall into the trap of selfishness. Heck, I’ve been one of the most selfish people on the planet—my best subject is myself! But giving glory to Jesus helps me with that. As a man, I naturally want to claim all the glory for myself. But when I acknowledge Jesus—the one man who rose from the dead—I’m recognizing someone greater than me. It takes the pressure off trying to be “the man” in everyone’s eyes. I know I’ll never compete with Jesus, and that humility helps me accept that there are other men I’ll never surpass—and that’s okay.

My brother said something last night that stuck with me: There’s a difference between being a man and being the man. I am a man to whoever crosses my path. But I’m the man to the people who matter most—my mom, my future spouse (God willing!), my children (God willing!), and others close to me. I can’t chase the illusion of being the man to the world—it’s a losing battle. Even the greatest legends like Michael Jackson and Elvis were only “the man” while they were hot. Sure, they’re remembered as legends, but how many in the younger generation still play their music or honor them? Even Jesus—though both man and God—is “the man” primarily to his followers who keep His name and memory alive.

So, what’s my point? I’ve been grinding like Martha, doing this and that, seeking acknowledgment. But my spirit is telling me: Stop. Rest. Stop competing with the world. It’s hard for me as a competitor—I want to win! But I’m learning that no win will ever fully satisfy me. No matter what I accomplish, like David, there will always be someone who only remembers my failures—my moments of doubt, my missteps, my regrets. And I accept that.

David did incredible things—killed Goliath, became a king, wrote beautiful poetry and music—yet people still mention his affair, his lies, and his mistakes. The record is never perfect. Look at Ye. Despite the great music and shows he’s created, history will always associate him with his controversies—his racism, antisemitism, and mental health struggles. No matter how good his work was, people say, “Yeah, that was good, but what about now?” But isn’t it all now? Isn’t life just one big moment until we’re gone? One continuation of the past, influencing the present?

So here’s my point: I’ve been slacking on writing because I’ve been consumed with chasing success and recognition. But that pursuit is officially over. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop creating art or writing—I will. But I’m done trying so hard to be this “brand” or this symbol of success. My mission is to help individuals, families, and churches improve their well-being. I want to be remembered not as “the man” but as a man who honored Christ through his work.

Because only what’s done for Christ will last. The world will move on, forget, tear down, and belittle. But in Christ, the work is honored—if it’s done for Him and not for self.

So my pursuit of being “the man” ends today, February 20, 2025.

Be well until we connect again.

Best,

James

"Resist the Devil" (circa 2019) © 2025 The Love Trollinger Initiative LLC. All rights reserved.