You ever notice how your greatest gift is also, somehow, your greatest flaw?
I know, it sounds like one of those things people say right after doing something stupid:
“Why did you insult your boss in the meeting?”
“Well, I’m passionate. Passion is both my gift… and my curse.”
Right. Okay. Good luck with that performance review.
The more I think about it, the more I realise it’s true. Not in a motivational wall-art kind of way, but in actual, real life. The trait that sets you apart, the thing people praise you for, is often the very thing that, left unchecked, gets you into trouble.
Let me give you an example. His name is Joe Sheldon.
One of my best mates in the world. We’ve been through it all, Bible college, weddings, godparent duties, and a podcast where we try to solve the world’s problems one theological tangent at a time.
If you asked me, “What defines Joe?” I’d say loyalty. Without hesitation.
The man is a golden retriever in human form. Loyal to a fault. If I got cancelled tomorrow, Joe would be on the news within the hour saying, “Blayze didn’t say that. And if he did, you probably misunderstood him. And if you didn’t, well… maybe you needed to hear it.”
Now, that kind of loyalty sounds noble. But here’s the thing about loyalty: it doesn’t come with a dimmer switch.
Joe and the Grenade: A Case Study in Loyalty
Rewind to Bible college.
It was me, Joe, and our mate John. We got ourselves into a bit of mischief, not illegal, relax. We weren’t selling black-market theology notes. But it was serious enough to get us in hot water.
Now, Joe was in his first year. John and I were in our final year. So, we made a plan: we’d take the fall. We’d carry the blame. Joe had two years left; we were nearly out the door. It made sense.
So we go into this meeting with the staff and say, “Listen, this was on us. Joe was just caught in the gravitational pull of our poor decision-making.”
And it worked. The staff bought it. They said, “Joe, bless him, was spiritually adjacent.” Perfect. Mission accomplished. Sacrificial lambs deployed.
Except…
A week later, Joe gets called in.
They say, “Joe, we understand this wasn’t really your doing…”
And Joe goes, “Excuse me?”
He proceeds to confess. To everything. And then some things. Things we didn’t even do. It was like watching someone throw themselves under a bus that was already parked.
We jumped on the grenade, and Joe was like, “Room for one more?”
He walked out of that room with the harshest punishment of the three of us. Because his loyalty, his greatest strength, refused to let him accept a free pass.
When the Mouth Moves Faster Than the Brain
For me, it’s words.
I know, I know, shock horror.
I speak. I teach. I preach. I podcast. If I’m not using words, I’m probably asleep, and even then, I’ve been known to monologue in my dreams.
God gave me this gift, and I try to use it for His glory. But let’s not pretend that gift hasn’t also landed me in trouble more times than I can count.
Like back in school. There was this kid, massive guy. Looked like he’d been bench-pressing vending machines since Year 6. He tried to intimidate me, and instead of doing the logical thing (e.g., staying alive), I thought, “You know what this moment needs? Sarcasm.”
So I roasted him. Zingers, one-liners, the class was loving it. I was flying. For about thirty seconds.
Then he said, “I’m going to knock you out after class.”
And suddenly I felt four feet tall and deeply aware of my mortality.
Class ends. I brace for impact. But behind me stands my friend, tall, built, with a face like “I’m not in the mood.” The big guy takes one look and backs off.
Now, this should’ve been a humbling moment.
But what do I do?
“Oh, yeah? That’s what I thought! Walk away, mate!”
He got me two days later. In the stomach. When my big friend wasn’t around.
Words: my gift.
Also: my downfall.
Even Your Best Needs Jesus
This is the tension, isn’t it?
The gifts we’re given—when submitted to Christ—become powerful tools for the Kingdom.
But when we let them run wild without wisdom, without accountability, without the Spirit… they turn on us.
Which is why John 17 is so powerful.
Jesus’ Prayer for You (Yes, You)
In John 17, Jesus prays the night before He’s betrayed. He knows the cross is hours away. And yet, He doesn’t just pray for Himself. Or just for the twelve disciples.
He prays for us.
“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message…”
—John 17:20 (NIV)
That’s you. That’s me. That’s every Christian in every generation who has come to faith through the chain of witnesses that started with those first disciples.
Jesus didn’t just die for you.
He prayed for you.
And He still does. (Romans 8:34)
And what does He pray?
“…that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.”
—John 17:21
Unity.
Not talent. Not charisma. Not safety or success.
Unity.
Unity: The Ultimate Witness
But it’s not unity for unity’s sake. It’s unity with purpose:
“…so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”
—John 17:21b
When we are united, despite our differences, the world sees Jesus.
When we are divided, petty, tribal… the world sees noise.
Unity doesn’t mean uniformity. It doesn’t mean we all look the same, worship the same, vote the same, or interpret every passage the same.
But it means we’re headed in the same direction. That we’ve submitted our strengths and our weaknesses to the Lordship of Christ. That we love each other enough to bear with one another, even when it’s inconvenient.
Ambassadors Who Don’t Bicker
Paul calls us “ambassadors of Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:20).
You don’t represent yourself. You represent the Kingdom.
And if we ambassadors spend all our time arguing with each other, the world will assume our Kingdom is in chaos.
But when we walk in unity, loving, forgiving, honouring, submitting, people see the difference. They see Jesus.
“Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”
—John 17:23
That’s the goal.
That’s the mission.
That’s the prayer of Jesus.
So Let’s Get Practical
What’s your greatest strength?
Where are you tempted to over-rely on it, instead of relying on Jesus?
Maybe it’s loyalty like Joe’s.
Maybe it’s words like mine.
Maybe it’s leadership, or generosity, or courage, or discernment.
Ask yourself:
Is this submitted to Christ?
Is it building unity?
Or is it quietly doing damage?
Because if Jesus is praying for unity…
And if we are His ambassadors…
Then it’s time we surrendered not just our weaknesses, but our strengths, too.
Because with Jesus behind you, interceding for you, empowering you, walking with you…
What on earth is in front of you that should make you afraid?
Scriptures for Reflection
- John 17:20–23
- Romans 8:34
- 2 Corinthians 5:20
- Ephesians 4:1–6
- Philippians 2:1–5
Let your gift become a servant of grace—not the master of your mistakes.
Let it point to Jesus. Always.

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