Strength Has Left the Group Chat (Also known as: The Ministry of I Don’t Have Strength)

At this stage, peace is more important than being right.

Strength is prepaid — once it finishes, please wait till next month.

 

There’s a new ministry in town.

No office, no budget, no staff — just tired people.

Welcome to The Ministry of I Don’t Have Strength.

There was a time I had opinions, energy, and follow-up spirit.

Now, when I see nonsense, I just whisper, “God abeg,” and scroll. Growth looks different these days.

 

I don’t argue again. You can say the sky is orange; I’ll nod and say, “Beautiful shade of mango.”

You think Lagos traffic will soon end? I’ll say “Amen” for you.

At this stage, peace is more important than being right.

Everything now passes through an energy audit.

Who deserves full power supply?

Who should be on generator mode?

And who should be permanently disconnected?

 

My energy is prepaid. Once it finishes, please wait till next month.

 

I used to reply to every message immediately — even the ones that start with “hey” and no follow-up.

Now, if I open your message and my spirit sighs, I just close it and whisper, “Holy Spirit, handle this one.”

Some days, I even rehearse my reply in my head and feel like I’ve sent it.

Next thing, two weeks have passed, and the message is still sitting there like an orphan.

WhatsApp groups — muted.

Family drama — archived.

Any call after 9 p.m.? That one is between you and God.

 

Strength is a limited resource. I’m no longer distributing it like handbills.

 

Once upon a time, I’d explain, defend, and analyse.

Now? Silence is my favourite language.

If you misunderstand me, enjoy it.

If you assume the worst, I’ll pray clarity meets you halfway.

If you raise your voice, I’ll just reduce your volume in my mind.

It’s not pride. It’s preservation.

There’s a peace that comes when you stop fixing things that clearly enjoy being broken.

 

Every family group chat has that one uncle who starts political debates at 7 a.m. sharp.

Before, I used to type essays with evidence and Bible verses.

Now, I just reply “God will help us” and mute for eight hours.

Not everything deserves your bandwidth.

 

We grew up hearing, “Be strong.”

But no one told us that strength runs out.

Sometimes being strong means sitting down, turning off your phone, and letting the world sort itself out.

 

We’ve glorified endurance too much.

Some of us aren’t strong anymore — we’re just tired, but with manners.

And that’s fine.

 

Strength isn’t always pushing harder.

Sometimes, it’s choosing not to push at all.

 

I’ve stopped forcing appearances too.

The version of me who RSVPs for an event is not the same one who wakes up on the day of the event.

One has energy and makeup inspiration; the other just wants to wear pyjamas and scroll Instagram in peace.

 

Sometimes I even dress halfway and suddenly remember my peace doesn’t like noise.

I simply remove the lashes, send “on my way” with love, and lie down.

 

These days, I manage my energy like a budget.

Friends who overthink my silence? Five percent.

Random WhatsApp broadcasts? Zero.

People who bring calm? Unlimited supply.

Myself? Full battery mode.

Everyone else? We’ll review next quarter.

 

You know those friends who only call when there’s chaos?

Before, I used to answer and play therapist.

Now, once I see their name, I say, “Lord, please minister to them directly,” and go back to Netflix.

It’s not wickedness. It’s wisdom.

 

When I say, “I don’t have strength,” it doesn’t mean I’ve given up.

It means I’ve grown.

It means I’m choosing peace over pressure.

It means I’m done explaining myself to people who already decided not to understand.

It means I’m saving energy for laughter, stillness, prayer, and the few people who refill me.

 

So when I say, “I don’t have strength,” please don’t rush to encourage me.

I’m not weak. I’m just wise.

 

I rest like it’s a profession.

I ignore nonsense like it’s therapy.

And when drama calls, I let it ring out.

 

Because peace is expensive.

And strength is no longer free.

This calm, this ease, this laughter I protect so fiercely — that’s the real Luxury Silk.