When ‘Thoughts and Prayers’ Isn’t Enough

“You want to pray for me? Really??”

They didn’t say it out loud. But the feeling was there.

This person is a single parent with a young child, navigating a stack of personal and family challenges. In that moment, what they needed didn’t feel spiritual. It felt practical.

And yet, around here in the Bible Belt, “thoughts and prayers” is often the instinctive response to almost anything.

I’ve said it. I’m a Christian. I believe in prayer. I believe it matters and makes a difference.

But two things can be true at the same time.

Prayer can be powerful… and sometimes “I’ll pray for you” can be a socially acceptable way to avoid doing the harder, messier work of actually helping.

Ts & Ps

You’ve seen it too. When tragedy strikes, social media fills with “thoughts and prayers.”

Most people mean well. But when the situation is the result of human action, those words can feel hollow—especially when they come from people who have the ability to do something more tangible.

Because talk is cheap. And when talk feels like a substitute for action, it doesn’t land the way we hope.

That observation led me to an uncomfortable realization about myself.

The Harsh Truth — “That’s Just the Way I Am”

We are all products of our environment. That’s unavoidable. The problem comes when we defend our habits, instincts, and default responses with:

“That’s just the way I am.”

Because sometimes “just the way I am” isn’t very good.

You are valuable. Unique. Worthy of respect and dignity.

But you’re not perfect. Neither am I.

We are meant to be in motion—becoming better versions of ourselves over time. That only happens through growth.

And for me, “Ts & Ps” became a perfect example.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with offering prayer. But growth for me means developing the empathy to recognize when prayer alone isn’t enough—when something more concrete is needed.

Michelle and I ran into a situation recently that would normally fall squarely into the “Ts & Ps” category for us—the kind of thing where we would feel compassion, say the right words, and move on with our day.

But something about this one felt different. We paused long enough to recognize our instinctive response… and chose not to go with it.

Instead, we did something tangible. We gave a monetary gift.

The response we received was deeply rewarding, but that’s not really the point. The point is that we grew. We stepped outside our normal reflex and chose a more meaningful response.

It was a small moment, but it showed me what growth often looks like in real life: noticing your default—and choosing better.

Growth Is Uncomfortable

The reason this matters is simple: default responses are easy.

They’re automatic. Socially acceptable. Comfortable.

Interrupting that reflex requires effort. It requires awareness. It requires choosing a different response than the one that’s been wired into me for 50-plus years.

And that’s uncomfortable.

But growth almost always is.

So the real question becomes:

Do I want to live on autopilot, or do I want to become better?

A Few Things I’ve Learned About Growth

Here are a few practices that have helped me:

Getting comfortable being uncomfortable
Entrepreneurship has stretched me in ways I didn’t expect. I’ve learned that most of the things I fear—looking foolish, failing publicly—aren’t nearly as catastrophic as I imagined.

Stacking healthy habits
Jesse Itzler suggests adding one healthy habit each quarter. I’m not that disciplined, but I’ve built a few that stick. Walking 10,000 steps a day is one of them. Small habits compound.

Reading
I’ve finally found a rhythm of reading before bed. It’s amazing what consistent input does for your thinking.

Investing in others
Pouring into others has a funny way of growing me too.

Embracing ambiguity and contradiction
I’ve made peace with the fact that not everything can be figured out. That acceptance has been freeing.

A Few I’m Still Working On

Growth is ongoing. Here’s where I still need work:

Pushing myself — I know I have more in me.
Seeking coaching and mentoring — I’m better at giving than asking.
Getting in the right room — Proximity matters, even if it sometimes costs more.
Taking smart risks — I have to leave the safety of first base to get to second.
“Letting them” — As Mel Robbins says, stop trying to control other people.

Final Thoughts

Growth isn’t easy. It’s often uncomfortable and inconvenient. But it’s the only path to becoming the kind of leader—and person—we actually want to be.

For me, it started with something as small as questioning whether “thoughts and prayers” was always the best response.

What practices have helped you grow the most in your leadership?

Which ones are you still working on?