The Long Way In

We don't often admit this, but doing good can be exhausting. Carry anything long enough and you're bound to feel it in your bones—not because it's wrong, but because it matters, and meaningful things have weight.

I preached a sermon last weekend exploring this theme in Galatians 6:9, where the Apostle Paul says:

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

We delved into the historical context of the Galatian church and drew parallels to modern-day struggles—emphasizing the importance of perseverance in our faith, relationships, and service—to ultimately remind us that holding on till harvest comes is not some word from Paul, but a promise from God.

If you're interested in hearing the whole message "Keep Going," you can find it here, here, here, or here. (LOL, sorry that made me chuckle. For the record, those links are each to the "Word" tab on our site, my sermon podcast hosting page, the Apple podcasts app, and Spotify, respectively).

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I mentioned in a previous blogpost that I've been writing almost nonstop since returning from the UK/Ireland. Here's one more, called "The Long Way In." Sometimes God gives a preacher a prop; this time, he gave me a song! I ended up closing the message with it:

The Long Way In [chords]

There’s a door I’ll never enter, still I build the frame by hand.

Some things bloom in later seasons, some you plant but never stand.

I don’t need a voice from heaven, just the rhythm in the grain—

And the quiet kind of reckless faith, that doesn’t have a name.

I’ve been told to chase the moment, trade tomorrow for today,

But I’d rather carve a table where my grandkids learn to pray.

Not for noise and not for notice, not for ladders, not for crowns—

But for love that lasts in silence, like the roots beneath the ground.

There’s a holy kind of courage in the tasks that no one applaud,

In the showing up for nothing but the echos of a cause.

A thousand years times nine is wild—still I get just what he meant:

Oh, to build like it will matter, ‘cause everything will matter in the end. 

Whether sweeping someone else’s floor or laying down the stone,

Still I’ll give my hands in reverence like I’m tending to a throne.

‘Cause the future’s not my finish line—it’s the reason I begin,

So I’ll light the lamp and lock the door, and take the long way in.

Yeah, I’ll light the lamp and lock the door, and take the long way in.

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In case it's been a while since someone’s taken the time to say it: keep going.