Is It Actually Worth It to Follow God?
Most of us, if we're honest, have had the conversation. Maybe it happened in your car, or lying awake at three in the morning, or sitting in a church service that got a little too close to the thing you've been avoiding. You felt something pulling you in a direction that made no logical sense, and somewhere in the middle of weighing the cost, you asked the question that nobody really says out loud: Is this actually worth it?
It's a fair question. And it deserves a real answer.
Susan Fletcher has lived through enough seasons of saying yes to God — and enough of the grief and discomfort that came before each one — to speak to this with some credibility.
She's not talking about theory. She's talking about pulling off at an exit in a small Arkansas town and feeling the Holy Spirit say this is it, when everything in her said this can't be right.
She's talking about laying on the couch in Minneapolis, twenty-two years into a life she loved, asking God why he'd send her somewhere she didn't want to go. She's talking about praying for missionaries to be sent out, only to hear God say you're one of them.
What she carried into each of those moments was a song. For years, she had it on repeat in her car, in her house, long enough that her husband started lobbying for a playlist. The song was called "For the Sake of the Call" — and the line that drove it was simple: I am laying down my all.
That phrase, she says, has to be an answer to a question you've already settled. Before the next step comes, before the uncomfortable nudge arrives, you need to know where you stand on whether following God is worth it. Because if you haven't settled that, the cost will always feel like too much.
Here's what the Bible is clear about, and what her life confirms: God has a specific plan for you. Not a vague, inspirational plan — a real one, with real steps, real timing, and real purpose woven into it. Jeremiah 29:11 doesn't just say God has good thoughts toward you.
It says he knows what he's doing, that he has it planned out, and that when you seek him, you'll find him. Ephesians 2:10 goes even further, saying you were recreated in Christ Jesus to walk in works that were prepared for you in advance. The path already exists. The question is whether you'll walk it.
But here's the part we tend to underestimate: your obedience reaches further than you can see from where you're standing. The decisions you make today will impact people in your future who you haven't met yet. That's not motivational language — that's how God actually works. He works through bodies, through relationships, through people positioned in the right place at the right time. When the Fletchers said yes to Bible school, they thought it was about them and a call to ministry. Decades later, that one yes laid a foundation that shaped a church, trained leaders, and touched a congregation in a town they didn't even know existed yet.
Your obedience isn't just yours.
There are two questions worth sitting with on this. The first is Is it worth it? Not as a feeling, but as a settled conviction. Because there will be days it doesn't feel worth it. The athlete who wants to win a race doesn't focus on burning lungs and aching muscles — they focus on the finish line. You have to focus on the win. The second question is What moves me? Paul said, in Acts 20, that none of the hardships of his life moved him. What kept him going was the call — the joy of completing what God had given him to do. That's worth asking yourself: when things are hard, what's strong enough to keep you moving?
The answer to both questions, for anyone who has walked with God long enough to accumulate some God stories, tends to be the same. It is worth it. The fruit of a life surrendered to the Lord means something that a comfortable, self-directed life simply cannot produce. There are no participation prizes, as Susan put it — but what you earn through faithfulness, sacrifice, and obedience carries a weight that no shortcut can replicate.
So what do you actually do with this? One concrete thing, this week: find somewhere to say yes that you've been saying no to. It doesn't have to be a move across an ocean. It might be serving in a role you've avoided, forgiving someone you haven't, showing up to something you keep skipping. The call doesn't always start big. It starts with a tender heart that's willing to move when God moves. Keep that heart soft. Stay seeking. And trust that the path he's already prepared is worth every step it takes to walk it.
It's a fair question. And it deserves a real answer.
Susan Fletcher has lived through enough seasons of saying yes to God — and enough of the grief and discomfort that came before each one — to speak to this with some credibility.
She's not talking about theory. She's talking about pulling off at an exit in a small Arkansas town and feeling the Holy Spirit say this is it, when everything in her said this can't be right.
She's talking about laying on the couch in Minneapolis, twenty-two years into a life she loved, asking God why he'd send her somewhere she didn't want to go. She's talking about praying for missionaries to be sent out, only to hear God say you're one of them.
What she carried into each of those moments was a song. For years, she had it on repeat in her car, in her house, long enough that her husband started lobbying for a playlist. The song was called "For the Sake of the Call" — and the line that drove it was simple: I am laying down my all.
That phrase, she says, has to be an answer to a question you've already settled. Before the next step comes, before the uncomfortable nudge arrives, you need to know where you stand on whether following God is worth it. Because if you haven't settled that, the cost will always feel like too much.
Here's what the Bible is clear about, and what her life confirms: God has a specific plan for you. Not a vague, inspirational plan — a real one, with real steps, real timing, and real purpose woven into it. Jeremiah 29:11 doesn't just say God has good thoughts toward you.
It says he knows what he's doing, that he has it planned out, and that when you seek him, you'll find him. Ephesians 2:10 goes even further, saying you were recreated in Christ Jesus to walk in works that were prepared for you in advance. The path already exists. The question is whether you'll walk it.
But here's the part we tend to underestimate: your obedience reaches further than you can see from where you're standing. The decisions you make today will impact people in your future who you haven't met yet. That's not motivational language — that's how God actually works. He works through bodies, through relationships, through people positioned in the right place at the right time. When the Fletchers said yes to Bible school, they thought it was about them and a call to ministry. Decades later, that one yes laid a foundation that shaped a church, trained leaders, and touched a congregation in a town they didn't even know existed yet.
Your obedience isn't just yours.
There are two questions worth sitting with on this. The first is Is it worth it? Not as a feeling, but as a settled conviction. Because there will be days it doesn't feel worth it. The athlete who wants to win a race doesn't focus on burning lungs and aching muscles — they focus on the finish line. You have to focus on the win. The second question is What moves me? Paul said, in Acts 20, that none of the hardships of his life moved him. What kept him going was the call — the joy of completing what God had given him to do. That's worth asking yourself: when things are hard, what's strong enough to keep you moving?
The answer to both questions, for anyone who has walked with God long enough to accumulate some God stories, tends to be the same. It is worth it. The fruit of a life surrendered to the Lord means something that a comfortable, self-directed life simply cannot produce. There are no participation prizes, as Susan put it — but what you earn through faithfulness, sacrifice, and obedience carries a weight that no shortcut can replicate.
So what do you actually do with this? One concrete thing, this week: find somewhere to say yes that you've been saying no to. It doesn't have to be a move across an ocean. It might be serving in a role you've avoided, forgiving someone you haven't, showing up to something you keep skipping. The call doesn't always start big. It starts with a tender heart that's willing to move when God moves. Keep that heart soft. Stay seeking. And trust that the path he's already prepared is worth every step it takes to walk it.