When Fathers Shift: A Tribute to Bishop T.D. Jakes

I grew up listening to Bishop T.D. Jakes, not just hearing him, but feeding off every word like daily bread.
I did not know him personally, but I knew his voice. This is the voice that carried me through seasons that tried to bury me alive. When I was broken, his words helped me stand. When I was confused, his revelation gave me direction. When I wanted to quit, his sermons became oxygen.

Many of us have places we dream of visiting one day. For me, most of those dreams are not about places, but about meeting people and if I may be honest, he was on my ‘to-meet’ list—not out of fandom, but out of respect. I needed to look into the eyes of the man who taught me to fight when I had no sword left. To run when my legs gave out and to believe when doubt filled the room. That is why this moment, this transition has sat heavy on my heart because even though I celebrate it, I also mourn a part of it. It feels like I am saying goodbye to a father I will never meet, one whose voice fathered me more than some men ever could in person.

I did not write this tribute quickly, in all honesty, I needed time. How do you say thank you to a man who helped raise you from a distance? How do you express gratitude to someone who stood in your midnight hours without ever being in your living room? Truth be told, I still want to see him on that pulpit, I still want to hear him thunder through my TV screen and I still want that signature “Get ready, get ready, get ready” shaking my spirit to attention.

However, we all know, legacy is not about holding on, it is about letting go right. It is about recognizing when the mantle moves and being at peace with the one God chooses to carry it forward. There is an annual conference that always reached deep into the depths my soul. Woman Thou Art Loosed. Every year I knew there would be a divine interruption and I so looked forward to it. The moment Bishop took the mic, it felt like he was calling me from the deep dungeons that Paul and Silas found themselves in and chains I had normalized began to break. He was not just speaking to the thousands women in the room and millions all over the world, he was speaking to the wounded little girl in me. The one who had learnt to live bound, silenced, invisible and when the Bishop started to speak, I heard heaven say, “Come forth.” I was not just loosed from pain, I was loosed into purpose.

Then came my all-time favourite, the message that branded me for life titled “Grasshoppers Don’t Eat Grapes.” That word did not just bless me, it forced me to confront the lies I believed about myself and pulled me out of small thinking. It challenged the limits I had placed on my own destiny. I was ready to settle for scraps but that word made me reach for the vineyard. It taught me that you cannot walk in promise while still thinking like a prisoner.

From the day I listened to that sermon so many years ago, it lit a fire in me I have not been able to shake and I pray I never do.

Bishop Jakes did not just preach, he poured. He did not just speak truth, he embodied it. He was not building a platform, he was raising up people and discipling nations. From Woman Thou Art Loosed to ManPower, from the Potter’s House to global stages, he showed us how to serve, how to lead, how to endure, how to overcome. He did not hide his scars, he used them to heal others and he taught many of us that pain is not a death sentence, it is a delivery room.

Now, he hands over the baton to his daughter, Pastor Sarah Jakes Roberts. This is not just a family affair but a kingdom mandate. She has not only walked through fire, she has come out anointed. She carries her own oil and she definitely does not walk in her father’s shadow, she walks in his legacy.

“And Elisha picked up the mantle that had fallen from Elijah.” 2 Kings 2:13

This mantle did not fall by accident, it was placed and this is what generational blessing looks like. This is what spiritual inheritance looks like. This is what wisdom, vision, and obedience looks like. Many ministries crumble in transition because the leader fails to prepare. Bishop Jakes did not just prepare a pulpit, he prepared a people, a daughter and a future for many generations to come.

So today, I do not just celebrate the transition, I honor the foundation. I salute the man who preached tired, led through pain, carried burdens while helping us lay ours down and gave us language for our trauma and vision for our tomorrow.

From my heart to yours Bishop: You did not just preach sermons, you gave us survival tools. You did not just build a church, you built us and now, we carry what you placed in us. With gratitude. With fire. With faith.

This is not goodbye but legacy in motion. This is seed becoming harvest. This is the sound of a father who finished well and the rise of a daughter ready to run her leg of the race.

Thank you, Bishop.
You fathered us well.
You finished strong.
Well done good and faithful servant.