None of These Things Shall Move Me | How Metaphysical Principles Build Wealth Consciousness |Standing In Your Power Series

Welcome to Happy, Healthy, Whole, and Rich, where faith meets

action and transformation is non-negotiable. I'm

Tina Brinkley Potts, and I believe now is the time to

step boldly into your power, walk in divine

wisdom, and claim the life you were meant to live.

Each episode, I'll bring you real, unfiltered

truth because this world needs leaders who

refuse to shrink. Let's get it.

Welcome back to Happy, Healthy, Whole, and Rich.

I'm Tina Brinkley Potts, and I know who I play for.

We are in our Standing in Your Power series,

and today I want to take you somewhere real. Not

theoretical, not polished, but real.

Because standing in your power is easy to talk

about when life is cooperating. The real

test is what happens when something is

actively trying to move you, when the pressure is

on, when someone is in your face, when

the environment is hostile and you still have to show up.

Today's episode is about that moment.

It's built around a phrase I've carried most of my life, a

phrase that has gotten me through Things I don't have

pretty words for. None of these things shall move me.

24. But none of these things

move me, neither count I my life

dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course

with joy and the ministry which I have

received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the

gospel of the grace of God. This is Paul speaking,

and I need you to understand the context. Paul is

on his way to Jerusalem. He already knows what's

waiting for him there. He's been warned:

imprisonment, hardship, suffering. The

people who love him are begging him not to go.

And he says, none of these things move me.

Not because he doesn't feel it. Not because he's

pretending the danger isn't real. But

because his sense of purpose is so rooted, so

settled, that the threat of what's coming cannot

dislodge what he knows about who he is

and why he's here. That's not toughness.

That's not performance. That's rootedness. And

that is what I want to talk to you about today, because

there's a version of none of these things shall move me that

you perform for other people. And then there is the version that

lives in your body, that you've earned, that

nobody can take from you because you didn't get it from them.

I want to talk to you about that version. I grew up

with a mother who struggled with alcoholism and drug abuse.

And as a kid, that was hard in ways I didn't always

have language for. For a long time,

when things got bad at home, I would run to my room and cry.

That was my response. That was all I knew to do. Get out

of the way, get somewhere small, and get quiet.

But somewhere along the line, that stopped.

I don't know exactly when it shifted, but I know the moment

I saw it clearly. I was 16, maybe 17.

My mother was really drunk that day, and she was heading for the

car. Now I need you to understand what that meant.

It wasn't just about her. It was about what she

was about to do, the damage she was about to

cause, and something in me just—

Decided. I ran outside before she could get to the car, and I snatched the

keys. I looked at her and said, I'm not

gonna let you cost my dad any more money because you're getting

ready to go out and do something stupid. We were standing in the

yard, and she looked at me, and she started to

move toward me like she was about to charge.

I didn't run. I didn't raise my voice. I stood

there and I told her, I'm not gonna let you hit me because

you wanna go do something wrong. And I won't fight you because you're

my mother. But this is not happening today.

I don't know what she saw in me in that moment because

something shifted. She stopped. She turned

around. She walked back into the house. And I heard her

bedroom door slam. I stood in that yard

holding those keys, and something in me had

changed permanently. I had learned something

that day that no classroom could have taught me. I

learned that I could do hard things. I learned that standing

firm, not from anger, not from defiance,

but from a deep settled knowing could change the

energy in a room, could stop something in its

tracks. I learned that none of these things

shall move me before I ever knew that was a scripture.

Years later, I was working at Wyoming Concrete.

I was the controller. It was a manufacturing firm. And for a long

time, I was the only Black woman in that office.

Let me tell you what that looked like in practice. Racial

slurs, weight jokes, comments designed

to remind me that I was not who they expected to see in

that seat. Attempts, sometimes subtle,

sometimes not, to pull me out of my excellence, to

make me small enough to fit their comfort.

And here's what I learned in that environment. If I'm doing

my job in excellence, none of these things shall move me.

Not because it didn't land. Some of it landed.

Some of it hurt in ways I processed later in private.

But I had already learned something in that yard at 16

that those people in that office had no idea about. I

had already stood firm when the stakes were personal, when

it was my own mother coming at me. When the thing trying

to move me was something I loved. So

when it was people who didn't even know me trying to use words to

shrink me, I already knew what rootedness felt like in my body.

I already knew I could stand in it. Excellence was

my anchor. My work was my ground. And none

of their noise could move me from it.

Paul said none of these things move me. And then he kept

going towards Jerusalem anyway.

That's the part I don't want us to miss. He didn't just

say the words, he walked toward the hard thing

because the only way to is through. I say

that to myself often. The only way to

is through. Not around it, not under it,

not waiting For it to get easier or for someone

to clear the path through. That's what

I did in that yard. That's what I did every day at

Wyoming Concrete. I didn't wait for the conditions to be

comfortable before I showed up fully. I showed up

fully and let my presence change the conditions.

That is what I mean by being rooted. You don't move

because someone wants you to. You move when you decide

to, in the direction you choose, on your own

terms. Ernest Holmes wrote

that we are not victims of the world we see. We are

victims of the world we believe. Read that

slowly. Not victims of what's

happening around us. Victims of what

we believe about what's happening around us. When

I was a little girl running to my room to cry, I believed that

the only thing I could do was get out of the way.

That belief made me small. Not the circumstance,

the belief about the circumstance. The moment I

walked out into that yard, something in my belief

system rewrote itself. And it rewrote itself

permanently. Neville Goddard taught that your

outer world is always a reflection of your inner state.

Always. Which means when you change what

you're standing in on the inside, the outside has to

respond. My mother didn't turn around because I was

louder than her. She turned around because

something in my inner state had shifted into a

frequency she couldn't override. That is

metaphysical law in action. Not magic. Law.

And James Allen said it plainly in As a Man Thinketh:

He who has conquered doubt and fear has conquered failure.

The doubt that I could stand firm, the fear of what she

would do, the fear of what they would say—

once those were conquered, The failure to show up fully in my

own life became impossible. You don't

have to be fearless. I was not fearless in that yard,

but I was rooted in something stronger than the fear, and that's

the difference. None of these things shall move me is

not a statement you make when you have no fear.

It is a statement you make when you've decided that your fear

Will not be the one driving. I want you to

think about what tries to move you, not in theory,

specifically. What is the thing, the

person, the comment, the circumstance, the

memory that has the most power

to pull you out of your center? Write it down,

name it. Don't be afraid of it on paper.

Now ask yourself this: when did you first learn

to be moved by this? Was there a moment, a

season, a person who taught you that this

particular thing had power over you? Because

most of our triggers have an origin, and naming the

origin starts to loosen its grip.

have you ever Had a

yard moment, a time when you stood firm

in something hard and surprised yourself. It doesn't

have to be dramatic. It might be quiet.

But there is a moment somewhere in your story where you did not run,

where you held your ground and something shifted. Find

it, write it down, because that moment is

evidence. Evidence that you already know how to do this.

Third, what does it cost you when you get

moved? In peace, in energy,

in time, in the direction of your life.

What does it actually cost you when you let that thing have power

over you? Get specific. And

finally, what would it look like to walk

Toward your Jerusalem? What is the hard thing you

have been waiting for conditions to improve before you

move toward? What would it look like to go through it

instead of waiting for a way around it? The only

way to is through, and you are more prepared for it

than you think. Here's what I want you to carry

with you today. Rootedness is not

something you perform. It's something you earn

through the yards you stood in, through the offices you showed

up to, through the moments when something tried to move you

and you discovered, maybe to your own surprise,

that you're still standing. You have already done hard

things, more hard things than you probably give yourself

credit for. And whatever is in front of you right now,

whatever is trying to shake you, shrink you, or pull you

out of your power, none of these things shall move me.

Say it like you mean it. Say it like you're standing in the yard at

16 and you just decided who you are. And

then remember this, the affirmation I come back to

again and again, the one I say to myself

more times in a day than I can count. I can do hard

things. Not someday, not when it gets

easier. Right now, as you are, with what you

have. I can do hard

things, and so can you. I know who I play

for. Until the next time, be

happy, be healthy, be whole, and most

importantly, be rich in love, Rich in peace

and rich in purpose. If

this message spoke to you, don't keep it to yourself.

Share it, live it, and let's grow

together. Head over to

happyhealthyholdeach.com for more

powerful teachings and join the movement. Remember,

your breakthrough is waiting, but you have to show

up. Until the next time, stay happy, healthy,

whole, and rich.