01/25/2026
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ซ, ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ญ, ๐๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐๐ข๐ง ๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฒ
This morningโs sermon unsettled me.
Not because it was unfamiliar, but because it hit too close to home.
The parable of the talents.
Five bags of gold. Two bags. One bag.
And the servant who buried what he was given.
Iโve heard it preached dozens of times. But this morning, it didnโt feel like a story. It felt like a mirror.
For a long time now, Iโve been content. Genuinely content.
I surrendered the chase for volume. I surrendered the pressure to prove something with numbers. I made peace with adjusting 50 people a day, or however many God sent through the door. Some days more. Some days less. I trusted that ๐จ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐๐ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ง ๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ญ.
My body thanked me for it.
My mind quieted.
My spirit rested.
My family got more of me.
I believed I had finally chosen ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ง๐๐ซ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ซ๐จ๐๐.
And then the sermon asked a question I couldnโt shake:
๐๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ข๐ ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ญ๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฆ๐?
Because hereโs the truth I donโt often say out loud, I was exceptionally good at ultra-high-volume Chiropractic. I could do it. I did do it. Day after day, year after year. People lined the living room, not a reception room, a living room, because thatโs what it was meant to be, a place where people waited to ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ข๐ซ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ after being adjusted.
Sometimes there were ๐ญ๐ฐ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ฒ-๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ sitting there, waiting.
And I felt it. The weight of it. The responsibility. The anxiety. The awareness that once I stepped into that adjusting room, there was no slowing down. No easing into the day. No pacing myself.
It was go time.
Every single day felt like ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ญ. ๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ญ.
Not once in a lifetime.
Not as a challenge.
But again.
And again.
And again.
The hardest part wasnโt even the office.
It was getting into the car in the garage before the ride to the office.
Because once I pulled out of the garage and got on the road, I knew what awaited me. I knew that no matter how much pain I was already in, I would have to push through it. I would have to serve through it. I would have to ignore my body screaming for mercy.
The pain was not theoretical.
It was ๐ฌ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ง๐๐ซ๐ฏ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ข๐ง ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐๐ .
It was ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฅ๐จ๐๐ค๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ฉ ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐งโ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐๐ฌ๐ก ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ก๐๐ข๐ซ or clean myself without wincing.
It was ๐๐จ๐ง๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ค๐ง๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ข๐ง that made sleep fragmented and shallow.
It was waking up already exhausted, knowing rest wasnโt coming.
And yet, I kept going.
Because somewhere deep inside, I believed that ๐ข๐ ๐ข๐ญ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ซ๐ญ, ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ฒ. That sacrifice meant self-neglect. That faithfulness meant endurance, even if the vessel cracked.
Eventually, the cost came due.
I paid it physically. I paid it emotionally. And when I finally stepped away, I wrote about it in a book I published. I warned others. I spoke openly about ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ซ๐-๐ก๐ข๐ ๐ก-๐ฏ๐จ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐จ๐ฉ๐ซ๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ and the toll it takes when systems demand more than the human body can give.
And I meant every word.
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So why, after all that, did this sermon stir something again?
Why did I feel that old ๐ฆ๐๐ ๐ง๐๐ญ๐ข๐ ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ, like a mosquito drawn back toward the bug zapper that nearly killed it?
Not because I miss the pain.
Not because I miss the grind.
But because ๐ ๐๐จ๐งโ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฐ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฆ๐.
Thatโs the tension.
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ซ๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐๐ซ๐ฏ๐ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ ๐๐ซ.
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐๐ซ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ค๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ง.
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ข๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ฒ.
๐๐ก๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐๐ซ๐ง๐๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ .
And fear complicates it.
Not fear of work.
Fear of ๐ซ๐-๐ข๐ง๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฒ.
Fear of waking a sleeping beast.
Fear of returning to a place my body remembers all too well.
Pain leaves fingerprints. And my nervous system hasnโt forgotten.
So I reached out to Godly counsel. I called two Chiropractic friends I trust deeply, Ed and Billy.
One told me, โ๐
๐๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ ๐๐ญ ๐๐ง ๐๐ง๐ฌ๐ฐ๐๐ซ.โ
So thatโs what Iโm doing.
Not to force clarity.
Not to rush God.
But to ๐ช๐ฎ๐ข๐๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ง๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐ญ๐จ ๐ก๐๐๐ซ ๐๐ข๐ฆ.
The other said something that stopped me in my tracks,
โ๐๐จ๐งโ๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ฌ๐๐ค๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฒ, ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ง๐๐ฌ, ๐จ๐ซ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ก๐๐๐ฅ๐ญ๐ก ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐๐ซ๐ฏ๐ ๐๐จ๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฅ๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ.โ
That hit home.
Because Iโve done that before.
And I justified it before.
And I donโt want to confuse ๐ฌ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐จ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐ง๐๐ again.
The servant who buried the talent wasnโt condemned for having less capacity. He was condemned for acting out of fear. And hereโs where Iโm sitting now, ๐๐๐๐ซ ๐๐๐ง ๐ฅ๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐๐จ๐ฆ, and ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐๐ง ๐ฅ๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ ๐๐๐๐ซ if weโre not deeply honest.
So what am I going to do?
Iโm not running back to ultra-high volume.
Iโm not hiding in comfort either.
Iโm ๐ฉ๐ซ๐๐ฒ๐ข๐ง๐ .
Iโm ๐๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ .
Iโm ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ .
And Iโm asking God a better question now:
๐๐จ๐ฐ ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ข๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ ๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฆ๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ค๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ๐จ ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฆ๐?
Because ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ง๐๐ซ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ซ๐จ๐๐ isnโt always smaller.
And it isnโt always harder.
Sometimes itโs ๐ฌ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ.
More discerning.
More obedient.
And sometimes faith doesnโt look like climbing Mt. Everest again.
Sometimes it looks like ๐ฐ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐๐ข๐ง until God tells you which step, if any, comes next.
If youโre wondering whether youโre falling short of what God desires for you, donโt rush to do more, pause and listen. God reveals next steps through clarity and peace, not pressure or fear, and obedience never requires you to break what He has entrusted you to steward. What feels like only two paths forward may simply be the moment before God reveals a third, if you are willing to be still, fast, and pray.
In Health and Faith,
Jay
If you want to read the book that I poured my advice and heart into, check it out here->
Chiropractic Cash Only Practice: The Final Textbook: A Definitive Guide to Mastering the Art, Science, and Philosophy of Running a 100% Cash Chiropractic Practice