I recently finished reading Build Up – The Pressure of Being Gifted by Okanda S. Eugine, and to say it shook me would be an understatement. This wasn’t just another book filled with motivational quotes or fluffy encouragement. No. It was raw. It was honest. It was deeply spiritual and personal. It held up a mirror and asked me hard questions—questions about purpose, obedience, discipline and impact.
As I flipped through the pages, I found myself pausing, reflecting, journaling and even repenting. This book isn’t something you just read and put down. It’s something you interact with. It’s a divine conversation between the reader and their calling. It has a way of awakening dormant dreams, rekindling neglected gifts and confronting the excuses that keep us comfortable.
The title itself, Build Up! –The Pressure of Being Gifted, captured so much of what many of us silently battle. The expectation. The weight. The responsibility. The fear of failure. The fear of success. The questions like, “Am I doing enough? Is God pleased with me? Am I truly living in purpose or simply existing?”
In this blog, I’ll share the key takeaways that resonated with me the most—truths that challenged me, healed me and propelled me into action. I hope that as you read through these reflections, you’ll also be stirred to rise, to build and to honour the gift within you.
1. Do What You Can To Build Up
One of the earliest lessons that gripped me was the simple but powerful call: “If you can’t do everything, do what you can.” This hit differently. In a world where excellence is often confused with exhaustion and impact with being everything to everyone, this reminded me of the beauty and power of small, faithful steps.
As someone who desires to make a difference, I often get stuck in the mindset of all-or-nothing. If I can’t do it perfectly or completely, I hesitate or stop altogether. But this principle shifted something in me. Doing what I can is not mediocrity—it’s stewardship. It’s faithfulness. God doesn’t ask us for everything; He asks us for obedience. The pressure to perform fades when I remember that I’m only required to play my part, not every part.
This also speaks to seasons. Sometimes, doing what you can may look different from day to day or year to year. What matters is that you stay in motion. Your obedience today creates room for capacity tomorrow. We grow by moving, not by being frozen in analysis or fear. And small actions add up. One conversation. One post. One helping hand. That’s how legacies are built. That’s how impact is made.
It also freed me from comparison. The pressure to keep up with everyone else’s journey often leads to paralysis. But when I shift focus to doing what I can, with what I have, where I am, I find joy, clarity and peace. In a noisy world, that’s a gift in itself.
Most importantly, this reminded me that impact is not about volume—it’s about intention. One life touched, one soul encouraged, one step taken in purpose matters. And when God breathes on your “little,” it becomes more than enough. So today, I’m choosing obedience over overwhelm, faithfulness over fear and purpose over perfection.
2. Are You Competing with Failure?
This bold and challenging statement gave me pause: “If you’re competing with failure, you’re not worthy of being in the competition.” It confronted my comfort zones. Many times, I’ve measured progress by not failing, rather than truly succeeding. I’ve settled for survival instead of striving for greatness.
Competing with failure is a low bar. It’s a mindset that’s content with simply avoiding mistakes or staying afloat. But what about impact? What about growth? What about the lives we’re meant to touch, the innovation we’re meant to birth, the legacy we’re called to build? This line reminded me that mediocrity is not our portion.
We must redefine the competition. It’s not about doing better than the worst-case scenario. It’s about pursuing the best version of ourselves. It’s about answering the call to show up fully, to stretch, to excel—not just exist.
In practical terms, this means setting higher standards for myself. It’s not enough to simply “not mess up.” The goal is transformation. Excellence. Purpose. I’m learning to ask better questions: Am I honoring my gifts? Am I taking bold steps? Am I building something that will outlive me?
This shift also recalibrates how I approach failure itself. Instead of seeing it as an enemy, I see it as a teacher. I no longer want to compete with failure—I want to learn from it. Then move forward with courage. Because ultimately, I wasn’t born to merely avoid failing. I was born to build, to thrive and to lead with purpose.
Even more, this lesson is helping me identify areas in my life where I’ve subconsciously settled. Relationships I’ve kept just because they’re not toxic—even if they’re not life-giving. Opportunities I’ve stayed in just because they aren’t disastrous—even though they’re not aligned. It’s time to compete with purpose, not just fear.
3. Obedience to the Process is Non-Negotiable
Another powerful theme throughout the book is this: Obedience to the process is crucial. There are no shortcuts to destiny. No fast-tracks to becoming. The becoming is the process. The work. The pressing. The pruning.
Often, we glamorize the outcome and despise the process. But process is where the foundation is laid, character is formed and strength is built. Obedience to this shaping—especially when it’s slow, silent or uncomfortable—is what separates the fleeting from the lasting.
This resonated deeply because I’ve been in seasons where nothing seemed to be moving. No open doors. No affirmation. Just quiet, consistent work. It felt invisible. Unseen. But this book reminded me that God sees. The process is not punishment—it’s preparation.
Obedience to the process means showing up even when there are no results yet. It means staying rooted when nothing flashy is happening. It’s refusing to rush ahead or give up. And it’s the quiet trust that He who began the good work will complete it—in His time.
“Being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.”
Phillipians 1:6
“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”
Ecclesiastes 3:11
There’s also an element of humility in the process. It forces us to release control and submit to timing greater than ours. And that humility becomes the soil in which greatness grows. To carry our gifting well, we must be made well. That’s the true purpose of process.
This changed how I view my own journey. I no longer despise the hidden seasons. I’ve learned to honor the silence, trust the stretching and find joy in the small wins. Because obedience to the process is how lasting impact is birthed. It’s non-negotiable.
Moreover, the process tests our motives. Will you still serve when no one claps? Will you still build when no one sees? Will you still show up when the rewards seem far away? That’s where authenticity is born. The process purifies and qualifies us to steward the promise well. So I’ll stay faithful. I’ll stay planted. I’ll stay obedient—even when it’s hard.
4. Can God Approve Your Life?
This book challenged me deeply when it brought up the question: “Can God Himself approve your life?” It stopped me in my tracks. In a world where public applause is easier to chase than divine approval, this question cuts through the noise. It brings you face to face with the real scorecard.
It made me reflect on whether I truly live by the standards I claim to uphold. Do my actions align with my values? Do I walk my talk, especially when no one is watching? Do I live a life that pleases God, or one that only pleases people? These questions are uncomfortable—but necessary.
Living a life that God approves is not about perfection. It’s about alignment. Integrity. Surrender. It’s about asking Him for direction and obeying—even when it’s not popular. Especially when it’s not popular.
It reminded me of the Scripture: “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God…” (2 Timothy 2:15). This is not just about doing right things but becoming the right person—consistent, genuine, anchored.
“Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”
2 Timothy 2:15
This also called me to examine hidden compromises. Am I cutting corners? Am I silent when I should speak? Am I lazy when I should be diligent? These are tough truths, but they matter. Because divine approval carries a weight that human applause never will. It brings peace, protection and eternal reward.
Ultimately, I realized I want to live a life that God can point to and say, “Well done.” A life of integrity. A life of service. A life of impact—not just in the eyes of men, but in the eyes of Heaven.
So I’m checking my motives. Reassessing my path. Aligning my actions with His will. And trusting that when I live a life that God approves, everything else will follow. That’s the true measure of success.
5. Obedience to God Gives Legitimacy to Purpose
One of the most liberating truths I encountered in Build Up is this: obedience to God legitimizes your purpose and gifting. In a world that celebrates talent, visibility and strategy, we sometimes forget that it is God who gives both the assignment and the grace to carry it out. Without obedience, our gift may be impressive—but not impactful in the Kingdom.
This challenged me to stop idolizing my abilities and start submitting them. Our gifts were never meant to be self-serving. They are tools—divinely issued tools—for a divine assignment. But to truly walk in purpose, we must walk in alignment with the One who gave the purpose.
Obedience is more than just saying yes to God in church—it’s how we handle our business, how we relate with people, how we create, serve, and lead. It’s how we manage our time, steward our opportunities, and show up consistently. When we obey divine instruction, it gives our actions spiritual backing.
It also guards us from derailment. Without obedience, gifting can become dangerous. Talent without surrender breeds pride. Influence without submission leads to destruction. But obedience grounds us. It protects us. It ensures that what we build with our gifts aligns with what Heaven intended.
For me, this brought me back to intimacy with God. Am I still asking Him for direction? Am I inviting Him into my decisions? Am I willing to pause when He says wait—and move when He says go? Because legitimacy isn’t found in hustle; it’s found in alignment.
This was a wake-up call to realign and recommit. To stop chasing influence and start chasing intimacy. To remember that only what’s done in obedience will stand the test of time. Because when God is behind it, the impact is eternal.
6. How You Wait Matters
One of the most sobering lessons I drew from this book is this: It matters how you wait. Waiting is not a pause in your purpose—it’s part of it. And how we handle seasons of waiting often determines how prepared we’ll be when the door finally opens.
Many of us treat waiting like idle time. We stop growing. We stop serving. We complain, we procrastinate, we scroll endlessly through other people’s progress. But the truth is, waiting is never wasted when we choose to wait in service.
Waiting in service means finding ways to pour out even when nothing seems to be pouring into you. It means remaining diligent, consistent, and faithful, even when no one is clapping. It’s working on your character, strengthening your habits, deepening your faith. Because the wait is not just about time—it’s about preparation.
This shifted my mindset. I used to think, “I’ll start when the opportunity comes.” Now I realize the opportunity often finds you doing. Faithfulness attracts promotion. David was found while tending sheep. Ruth was found while gleaning in the fields. Consistency in obscurity always precedes visibility.
Serving during the wait also keeps your heart soft. It breaks the power of entitlement and fuels humility. It guards against bitterness and builds gratitude. Because you begin to see waiting not as delay, but as design.
I asked myself—am I waiting in bitterness or in preparation? Am I complaining or cultivating? The answer to those questions will shape not only your outcome, but who you become. From now on, I’m choosing to wait with purpose. To serve with joy. To prepare in faith. Because when the door opens, I want to be found ready, not rusty.
7. Foundation Over Finish
There was a powerful analogy in the book that deeply resonated with me: A cracked wall can be repaired, but a cracked foundation cannot hold a well-furnished wall. This truth goes beyond construction—it’s a blueprint for life.
We live in a generation that glorifies aesthetics—polished profiles, curated timelines, perfect outputs. But what lies beneath? What kind of foundation is holding it all together? This chapter made me reflect on whether I’ve been focusing too much on building the walls and too little on strengthening the base.
The foundation represents your values, your mindset, your habits, your relationship with God. If these are weak, everything else is unstable. A beautiful life built on a weak foundation is not sustainable—it’s a disaster waiting to happen. And when pressure comes, it’s the foundation that determines survival, not the finish.
This truth made me pause and check my roots. Am I rooted in truth? In discipline? In faith? Have I allowed God to dig deep before building high? Or have I been rushing the process, putting paint on walls that are sitting on a cracked base?
There’s wisdom in letting God take His time with your foundation. Digging takes time. It’s not glamorous. It’s dirty and often hidden. But it’s where depth is formed. And the deeper the foundation, the higher the building can go.
From now on, I’m prioritizing the unseen parts of my life. My prayer life. My study of the Word. My integrity in private. My mindset. Because when the storms come—and they will—it’s not the beauty of your life that holds you, it’s the strength of your foundation.
When pressure comes, it’s the foundation that determines survival, not the finish.
8. Count the Cost to Build Up
A key lesson that pierced through my heart was the reminder to count the cost before you build. This is both spiritual wisdom and practical life advice. Many of us dive into vision without strategy. We run on emotion, not execution. But vision without planning leads to frustration.
Counting the cost means asking the hard questions upfront. What will this dream take? What will I need to sacrifice? What disciplines must I adopt? What habits must I unlearn? What relationships must I let go of? What systems do I need in place? Building anything meaningful requires intentional preparation.
It’s easy to romanticize the idea of impact or success. But the real work is often hidden, repetitive and sacrificial. When we fail to count the cost, we abandon the assignment halfway. We burn out. We resent the very thing we once prayed for. But when we go in with sober understanding and divine strategy, we build with wisdom.
This helped me reassess the dreams I’m pursuing. Have I sat down with God and asked Him for the blueprint? Have I realistically assessed my current capacity and what I need to develop? Am I building blindly—or am I counting the cost?
Jesus said in Luke 14 that no one builds without first counting the cost. Why? Because purpose is expensive. Calling is costly. It demands all of you. But the reward is worth it.
From now on, I’m choosing wisdom over hype. Strategy over emotion. Obedience over impulse. I want to build something that lasts. And that starts with counting the cost.
9. There’s Grace for the Process
One of the most comforting revelations in Build Up is this: there is grace for the process. Often, we feel pressured to have everything figured out, to move from calling to fulfillment in one leap. But purpose unfolds step by step, and God supplies grace for each step.
This reminded me that God is not just interested in the final product—He is present in the process. He’s in the trial runs, the late nights, the learning curves, the failures, and the small wins. And He gives grace—not just for the victories, but for the valleys too.
This truth helped lift a burden off my shoulders. I don’t have to perform my way into purpose. I can lean into grace. I can grow gradually, heal deeply, and build wisely—without the pressure to be perfect. Grace gives room for mistakes, but it also gives strength to keep going.
I began to see grace as divine empowerment. It’s not an excuse to slack—it’s the fuel to persist. When I feel unqualified, grace reminds me that God qualifies me. When I feel overwhelmed, grace empowers me to take the next step. It assures me that I’m not walking alone.
Whatever season you’re in—whether you’re beginning, rebuilding, or navigating uncertainty—know this: there’s grace for you. You don’t have to have it all together. You just need to keep moving, one obedient step at a time.
10. What You Build Can Outlive You
The final insight that deeply struck me is this: what you build can outlive you. We don’t just build for ourselves—we build for generations. Every act of obedience, every sacrifice, every structure you raise in God can echo far beyond your lifetime.
This gave me a new level of sobriety. Am I building with eternity in mind? Am I sowing into legacy or just chasing temporary applause? The work we do in God, when rooted in obedience and love, becomes a seed that continues to bear fruit long after we’re gone.
It’s easy to forget this in a world that thrives on instant gratification. But the Kingdom operates on generational impact. Abraham’s obedience shaped nations. David’s worship shaped generations. Jesus’ sacrifice gave birth to the Church. When we build with God, we’re part of a much bigger story.
This made me want to build wisely and selflessly. To invest in people, not just projects. To raise others as I rise. To leave behind systems, lessons, and love that will continue long after I’m gone. Because legacy isn’t about being remembered—it’s about who gets strengthened because you lived.
Let this truth guide you: what you build in faith, with obedience and integrity, is never wasted. It becomes part of Heaven’s architecture—something eternal.
I Slept at My Work
One of the most piercing lines from Build Up was this: “One hidden truth is that; the moment you quit from serving your gift to the world, there are people who will suffer and will never reach where they were supposed to be because you slept at your work.” That statement hit me like a thunderclap.
I paused. Reread. Reflected. Tears welled up as I came to terms with a sobering truth—I had slept at my work.
For a long time, I knew I was called to inspire others, to share light and speak truth. I knew that I had a gift to encourage, uplift, and walk with others as they grew into the best versions of themselves. But life got busy. Fear crept in. I second-guessed myself. I stopped showing up. And in doing so, I failed those I was assigned to help.
This section reignited a burden in me—not out of guilt, but out of conviction. Purpose isn’t a cute idea—it’s a divine responsibility. When you carry something that can change lives, your silence becomes costly. Your inaction becomes a weight on others.
This revelation isn’t just about pressure—it’s about perspective. I’m not just building for me. There are lives tied to my obedience. My voice matters. My consistency matters. My service matters.
So now, I choose to wake up. To return to the work. To serve diligently. Even if I feel unseen. Even if it feels slow. Because someone’s destiny is on the line, and I cannot afford to be asleep when I’ve been called to stand guard.
I Was Reminded, Reawakened and Realigned
By the time I closed the final pages of Build Up, I realized something had happened within me. I wasn’t just informed—I was reminded, reawakened and realigned.
Reminded of my calling. Reawakened to my assignment. Realigned to my true north.
This book pulled me out of complacency and comfort zones. It exposed blind spots I had ignored and reignited dreams I had shelved. It gently but firmly called me to higher standards—not of performance, but of purpose. Not of perfection, but of obedience.
Reading it felt like a mirror was held up to my life. I saw where I had drifted. I saw where I had doubted. But more importantly, I saw the path back. I saw grace. I saw hope. I saw direction.
This book isn’t just for those in ministry. It’s for anyone who knows they’re gifted but feels the weight of that gift. Anyone who has ever wondered whether their life is truly making a difference. Anyone who has ever been stuck between purpose and fear, between calling and comfort.
Build Up is a roadmap. A clarion call. A divine whisper that says: it’s time to build again.
Final Reflection: Time to Build What Matters
Reading Build Up – The Pressure of Being Gifted by Okanda S. Eugine was more than a reading experience—it was a spiritual awakening. Every chapter was a mirror, a manual, and a mandate. It reminded me that I’m not just living—I’m building. And what I build matters.
From the urgency of starting small, to the wisdom of counting the cost, to the sobering truth that others suffer when I withhold my gift—this book stirred something deep in my spirit. It pulled me back into alignment with purpose. It helped me remember who I am, whose I am, and why I must stay the course.
We are all builders in one way or another. Whether it’s character, relationships, careers, ministries, or ideas—every decision lays a brick. Every act of obedience sets a foundation. Every delay affects the structure. This book is a call to build wisely, faithfully, and boldly.
So here’s my response: I will build. I will rise. I will return to the work. Not for applause. Not for perfection. But because lives depend on it. Because God is counting on me. Because purpose demands it.
To anyone reading this—especially if you feel weary, lost, or unqualified—take heart. You were made for this. You carry something the world desperately needs. Wake up. Pick up the bricks again. And build something that will last.
Because when God is your foundation, what you build will never crumble.
This post was developed with the help of ChatGPT as a creative support tool. I prayerfully edited and refined the content to align with my voice, convictions, and the message I believe God placed on my heart to share. Every word has been weighed with intention.
