Cloe Black interprise

When Leadership Becomes Heavy

Key Scripture
Numbers 11:14
"I am not able to bear all this people alone, because it is too heavy for me."

Meditation
Moses reached a point where he admitted something many leaders are afraid to say:
"I cannot do this alone."
This was not spiritual failure.
It was honesty.
Leadership can become lonely because people see the position but rarely see the burden.
A pastor can encourage everyone while privately feeling exhausted.
A parent can remain strong for the family while carrying silent anxiety.
A teacher can inspire students while personally struggling.
A leader can appear confident publicly while privately asking God for strength.
Moses teaches us that acknowledging limitation is not weakness.
Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can say is, "I need help."
God responded by providing seventy elders to share the burden.
The answer to Moses' exhaustion was not simply more personal effort.
It was shared responsibility.
You were never designed to carry every burden alone.

Reflection
What burden are you carrying that you were never meant to carry alone?

Life Application
Seek wise, trustworthy people with whom you can share responsibilities and receive godly support.

Prayer
Lord, give me humility to recognize my limitations and wisdom to receive help when I need it. Strengthen every weary leader and servant. Amen.

PEACE !

*Godwill and the Farm of Excuses* 😅🌽

Godwill was 14, strong, and had two legs that could run very fast.
But there was only one place they refused to run to: the farm.

Every morning in Bafmeng, his grandma Mama Ngah would call from the compound:
"Godwill! The farm is calling! The corn is waiting!"

And every morning, Godwill had an answer ready.

Monday: "Mama, my stomach is doing drumbeats."
Tuesday: "Mama, the sun is too hot. It will melt me."
Wednesday: "Mama, I dreamt the cassava told me to rest today."
Thursday: "Mama, my slippers are tired."
Friday: "Mama... you know what, let me just pray for the farm from here."

He hated work. Weeding? Too sweaty. Planting? Too boring. Carrying water? Too heavy.
He would rather sit under the mango tree, telling stories, playing draft, or "supervising" the goats.

His friends teased him: "Godwill, your name is Godwill but the only thing you will is to sleep!"
He would just laugh and say, "Work is for people who don’t have good ideas."

One rainy season, Mama Ngah got sick. She couldn’t go to the farm for 2 weeks.
The yams were dying. The corn was being eaten by grass.
Godwill kept making excuses... until he got hungry.

The food in the house finished. The neighbors' pots were quiet.
Mama Ngah looked at him from her mat and said softly: "Godwill, a hungry stomach doesn’t accept excuses."

That hit him.

The next morning, for the first time, Godwill didn’t have an excuse.
He picked up the cutlass. It was heavy. His back ached. His palms got blisters.
But he also saw something: the soil was soft after rain. The seedlings he planted stood up straight. When he harvested the first corn, it tasted sweeter than anything he’d ever bought.

That evening he brought Mama Ngah roasted corn and said, "Mama... I lied to the farm a lot. But the farm never lied to me."

Mama Ngah smiled. "Work doesn’t kill you, my son. Laziness does."

From that day, Godwill still complained sometimes 😂. But he stopped being _false_ to the farm.
Now when people call him, they don’t say "lazy the call him the boy who finally decided to work hard.

GOODWILL AND THE GREENER PASTURES *

Goodwill grew up in a small village where the roads were dusty, the lights flickered, and everyone knew everyone’s name.
But as he got older, he started to think, _“This place is not worthy.”_

He watched videos of big cities. Tall buildings. Busy markets. People who didn’t have to fetch water from the stream.
“Greener pastures are somewhere else,” he told his grandmother. “I’m going for holiday to the city. I’ll find my future there.”

Grandma just smiled and packed him roasted plantain and groundnuts. “Go, my son. See the world. Then come back and tell me what you saw.”

The holiday came. Goodwill stayed with his uncle in the city.
At first it was exciting. The noise, the lights, the malls, the buses that never stopped.
But after a week, the excitement faded.

The water came only twice a day. He didn’t know his neighbors. Food was expensive. No one sat outside to talk in the evening. When he was sick, he waited 3 hours in a hospital line. And the “greener” grass in the park? It was dry, and people were too busy to lie on it.

He called home. He could hear children laughing, drums from a funeral celebration, and his uncle calling the cows in. His mom said, “The mangoes are ripe. We saved some for you.”

On the last day of his holiday, there was a blackout in the city. Goodwill sat on the balcony, sweating, scrolling with 2% battery.
Back home, a blackout meant storytelling under the moon, roasted corn, and his cousins daring each other to catch fireflies.

When he returned to the village, he stepped off the bus and the air smelled like rain and firewood. His grandmother hugged him tight. The whole compound gathered to hear his “city stories.”

That night, as the generator hummed and his cousins crowded around him, Goodwill said quietly, “I thought I was looking for greener pastures.”

CLOE'S First TRIP

Cloe had never been on a plane before, and he was equal parts nervous and excited. He packed like he was moving continents: 3 jackets “just in case,” a guidebook, and snacks for the whole trip.

At the airport, he got lost twice, asked a security guard where the clouds were “so he could watch them up close,” and somehow made friends with a grandma who gave him homemade cookies for the flight.

On the plane, Cloe pressed his forehead to the window the whole time. When the city lights showed up below him at night, he whispered, “So this is what the world looks like when you finally show up.”

His first trip wasn’t perfect — he forgot his charger, took the wrong bus once, and mispronounced every street name. But he came home with sticky cookie crumbs, 200 photos of clouds, and smiles