When Obedience Feels Like Losing

Somewhere along the way, we picked up the idea that following Jesus means life gets smoother. Fewer problems. Clear answers. Roses and sunshine with a worship soundtrack playing in the background. That sounds nice. It just isn’t true.

If anything, obedience often feels like loss before it ever looks like gain. Saying yes to Jesus has a way of messing with our plans, our comfort, and our timelines. It asks for surrender when we would rather have certainty. And Christmas proves it.

We love the clean version of the story. Soft lighting. Quiet animals. Everything calm and holy. The real story is messy.

Mary said yes and stepped straight into misunderstanding, shame, and risk. Joseph obeyed while carrying questions he could not fix. They traveled tired, found no room, gave birth in a place meant for animals, then ran for their lives as refugees.

None of that comes with a guarantee that it will all turn out okay.

That is the part we struggle with most.

Hanging in there when obedience is messy is hard. Staying hopeful when you cannot see the end picture takes everything you have. There is no signed contract from God promising comfort, clarity, or quick resolution. Just trust. Just presence. Just the next step. And when you do not see how it ends, positivity feels fake. Faith feels fragile. The temptation is not always to walk away loudly. Sometimes it is to quietly give up on expecting God to move at all.

That is often where obedience costs the most.

Obedience rarely looks heroic in the moment. It looks like showing up again when you are tired of being strong. It looks like staying faithful when the story still feels unresolved. It looks like choosing not to quit when quitting would bring instant relief.

Following Jesus does not insulate us from pain. It places us in a deeper story where pain is not wasted, even when it does not make sense yet. Jesus never promised easy. He promised presence. The cross makes that clear. Obedience did not lead Jesus to applause. It led Him to suffering. And yet resurrection came on the other side of faithfulness, not avoidance. We want the joy without the wait. The miracle without the middle. The victory without the tension of not knowing if it is coming. But God does some of His most important work in the waiting.

If you are in a season where obedience feels like losing and you are tired of hanging on, hear this. You are not weak for feeling worn down. You are human. And you are not alone.

The Christmas story reminds us that God shows up in places that feel uncertain, uncomfortable, and unfinished.

So hang in there.

Not because you are sure how it will turn out.
Not because you feel strong.
But because God is present even when the ending is unclear.

Obedience is not the end of the story. It is often the middle. And God is still writing what you cannot see yet.

Even when there are no guarantees.