Choosing The Pause

You don’t have to be a fan of football to enjoy the Super Bowl. Once a year, collectively, the United States of America gathers with friends and family to watch the two final teams battle it out in the arena.

Similar to the Romans, the Colosseum becomes a distraction from the everyday worries and struggles that society deals with in this increasingly complex world.

Watching gladiators fight to the death wasn’t done on an empty stomach. While the spectators watched gladiators fighting to the death, they would be eating handfuls of roasted nuts and figs. People would line up as vendors sold olives, dried figs, nuts, and bread.

As history repeats, the Super Bowl is no different. The majority of people, when asked why they watch the game, respond with “for the food and halftime show.” Pizza, nachos, and hot wings replace the Roman figs and nuts.

While the exhausted teams take a break in the middle of the game, the halftime show kicks off. Performances from famous musicians and perfectly timed movements from marching bands awe the crowd as they eat handfuls of chips.

While the crowd is distracted by the show, the teams, beaten and bloody, take a pause to regroup. Within the locker rooms, the teams vent, yell, and let out frustration in a moment of exhaustion. After the players have vented, the coaches step in with strategy.

After a decade of developing technology solutions for companies and organizations, I also found myself needing a halftime. Although I wasn’t a linebacker or a gladiator in the arena, I found myself bloody and bruised. The years of sacrificing my health for my company left me feeling burnt out and resentful toward a prison that I had created.

At the end of 2024, I decided to shut down my technology company and take a sabbatical. My coach would not be a season game strategist, but instead it would be God himself.

Working weekends and endless days for years, I found myself exhausted from the endless emails, troubleshooting, and emergency advisory calls. My cup was empty, and the only thing that could fill it again was the biggest coach of all, God.

In the Bible, it is written that even God rested on the seventh day, and so the Jewish people honored the Sabbath. God had planted a seed in me, and the land needed to rest.

Running teams of technology specialists driven by my digital transformation strategies once brought me excitement and challenged me, but after a decade, it started to feel monotonous. Staring at a monitor for hours on end with very little human interaction left me with a thirst that could only be quenched by the living water of God.

Letting my clients know I was shutting down the company to pursue my spiritual and religious beliefs left everyone scratching their heads. Some clients thought I had gone crazy, and others were resentful for no longer having access to me, but the worst was my friends and family not understanding how I could walk away from what they perceived as a successful company.

Regardless of the thoughts and opinions of people, I decided to put my trust in something bigger than myself. Just like a workshop team-building exercise, I decided to do a trust fall into the spiritual world. I had one simple intention, and that was to seek the presence of God.

My journey started with the act of repentance. More than an apology or a sense of remorse, the act of repentance was a coming of truths that had lain hidden behind ego my entire life.

Whether I was ready or not, God held a mirror up to me, and what I saw pointing back at me was a loaded handgun. After coming home late one night, I found my girlfriend at the time holding my gun and tablet.

Living in Fifth Ward, notorious in Houston for being a high-crime area, I had begun leaving a pistol on my nightstand since I had already experienced several incidents. This became an instant regret, as I found it used against me.

The emotional breakdowns of my girlfriend had already become clear since moving in together. Constant outbursts of anger and anxiety-ridden spirals had become a daily event, lasting hours and leaving me emotionally exhausted. The emotional breakdowns were difficult, and their impact had already started the discussion of separation, but I did not truly understand the depth of her mental state.

The reality of my actions and personal decisions was staring me back in the face. As it is written in the Bible, the truth will set you free, and in that moment, although I was being held hostage, I found myself free from the guilt that I secretly held from relationships that were never let go.

As the gun lifted, the trigger was pulled, and in that moment began the walk through the fire. The bullet lodged itself in a planter feet from me. In that moment, I ran to the door, and without a wallet, shoes, or phone, I began an eight-hour walk that left my feet bleeding.

That night, I felt the helplessness of waving down cops who ignored me by turning around before they drove past. Every step was excruciating and felt like I was walking through the fires of hell. The realization of the hurt that was caused by not being honest gave me the opportunity to feel true repentance.

Checking into a hotel and giving the situation time to calm itself down, I reflected on my actions and understood that I had not lived in truth, but in lust.

The following months were filled with self-reflection and deep prayers, asking for forgiveness. The weight of my sins had been lifted, and in that freedom, God had given me grace. The hand of God had not been soft, but like a loving father, my journey started off with a stern correction.

Speaking truth and abstaining from lust gave way to a supernatural sense of peace. My moral compass had been recalibrated, and in that, I felt the presence of God refining me like gold. Prayer and reading the Bible were no longer obligations, but moments that I treasured.

Months into my sabbatical, I awoke one Sunday, and as normal, I poured myself a cup of coffee. Walking toward the home’s living room window, I pulled back the curtains to greet the morning. A low-hanging fog from the winter morning was still thick from the Gulf Coast and had reached all the way to Houston. As I stood there, what can only be described as a hole started to open up. The solid grey clouds gave way to what I could only describe as a sky within a sky. Looking through the opening, the sky behind it shimmered, and the beauty was astonishing.

Staring into what felt like another world, more real and beautiful than anything here on earth, I noticed something moving into the opening. Two gigantic white wings moved into view, stopping directly in the middle of the opening. Not sure what I was looking at, I stood in amazement, unable to move, frozen, and in that moment, a light started to shine between the two wings that was so bright that tears ran down my eyes, and an overwhelming sense of love filled my heart.

Standing in amazement and frozen in reverence, thoughts started flooding my mind. Unable to perceive how much time had passed, the clouds started to close around the opening, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. Walking away from the window, my body glowed from the experience.

My days became beautiful, and countless synchronicities and small miracles began to happen regularly. While the pressures of life still existed, God had given me a sense of peace that kept me steady. As the day gave way to night, a different experience started to wait for me. As the days were filled with peace, my evenings felt surrounded by fear.

The neighborhood that I lived in was notorious in Houston for high crime and murders. The street I lived on was newer construction, which made it stand out in a neighborhood struggling. Security cameras surrounded the property, and at night, Fifth Ward felt like a war zone.

A strange, hazy mist and fog crept in throughout the night, and with it, fear filled the air. Multiple break-ins were attempted by armed intruders, looking for an unlocked door or an easy place of entry. The locked doors kept burglars out, but something else, much more sinister, crept in.

What once was a simple world, one that you could touch. Now, a new realm was visible, one that overlapped the existing. This one was not always visible, but instead felt. The duality of my days and nights gave way to a deeper understanding of what the Bible refers to as darkness.

Stepping out into the backyard one evening, I noticed the bamboo and shrubs swaying violently with very little wind. A deep sense of fear crept into my bones, and as I decided to turn back in, I felt a presence. As I turned to walk back inside, I felt a pain go down my back. Quickly, I closed the door and went upstairs to find, in the mirror, three large scratches running the length of my back.

In my sabbatical, as I searched for the light, something unexpected had happened: I had become visible to the darkness. After countless setbacks and strange coincidences that never seemed to go in my favor, I soon came to the realization that there was an opposing team, and they were playing dirty.

The reality of my halftime had set in—that I was now on the losing team. Long-term clients that I had depended on for residual income through hosting fees started to dry up.

Inflation and other economic factors started to affect some of the businesses that I had worked with, resulting in them taking drastic measures and ultimately taking advantage of the business closure. Submitting fraudulent chargebacks from their credit cards reversed an entire year of payments in a moment. I found my checking account and savings drying up from businesses no longer depending on my services.

The financial struggle became stressful, but ultimately, I decided to place my trust in God. Each day I prayed for what the Bible refers to as my daily bread, and God never disappointed. Although my finances were a mere fraction of what they were a year before, my basic needs were met, and my extra time was spent walking with God.

My trust in God had grown, and in that, my faith became stronger. The beauty of nature was amplified, and love radiated from my heart. Small road trips to the Texas Hill Country became adventures, and small pleasures filled my days.

I no longer needed permission to exist. Giving myself to God gave me an independence and sovereignty that freed me from seeking the approval of the world. Relationships not aligned with who I had become slowly faded away.

That early spring, my ex-girlfriend moved out and abruptly left for Pune, India, where her family’s business was headquartered. Quiet relief was welcomed after the traumatic experience that had happened months before.

Sitting in the ruins of her chaos, I was faced with the thought of forgiveness without an apology. Feeling pressed like a diamond, I dove deeper into theology and prayer. Meditating on letting go of anger, bitterness, and resentment brought me closer to Jesus.

My understanding of forgiveness was tested in real time as it was learned. A barrage of slander, half-truths, and false statements started to flood my social media, created from fake accounts with generic names.

Checking the mail, I received what I thought was a solicitation for a life insurance policy, but after opening it, I found it had already been created. Unbeknownst to me, there was a life insurance policy purchased with a payout if I had become deceased.

The dots started to connect, and it had become obvious that I was being targeted. As the harassment continued, so did my faith. Leaning deeper into my faith through the living Word, prayer, and meditation, a strength developed that was harder than diamonds.

Diving into theology, the prophets and saints became the strategy written by the coach during halftime. The words in the Bible began to have deeper meaning, with layers upon layers of wisdom. The Word was not just written. It was living, and it felt like it was speaking to me.

My halftime was coming to an end. In the seventh month of the sabbatical, it had come time to start rebuilding. God had taught me obedience, righteousness, forgiveness, and discernment through betrayal, depression, isolation, and identity loss. Walking through the fire and then the pressing had initiated me into something new. Now was my time to leave the locker room and head back to the game. My life had been changed forever, and there was no going back.

Now I was more than a football player. I had become a gladiator, and I wore the Armor of God. Becoming allergic to hollow faith and empty words. I was evaluated, weighed, and chosen. God had birthed wisdom in me, and in that shined His glory.

Ricky Lee LaPraim

Advisor · Technologist · Speaker · Writer

Focused on the human implications of a rapidly accelerating technological world, this work draws from more than a decade leading digital transformation initiatives across startups, enterprises, nonprofits, and public institutions. The focus now centers on advisory roles, mentorship, and writing. Technology is approached not as a purely technical challenge, but as a human one—exploring how innovation shapes identity, relationships, meaning, and the structures we live within.