When Obedience Is Hard - And Why It's Worthy It

Let’s be honest:  obedience is not always easy. Most of us, if we’re being real, can recall moments when we knew exactly what God wanted from us — and yet, something in us pushed back. Maybe we were tired. Maybe it was inconvenient. Maybe we were afraid of what others would think. Or maybe, we just didn’t want to do it.

If that’s ever been you, take a deep breath — you’re not alone. In fact, you’re in good company. Jesus Himself walked that same road. Hebrews 5:7–8 gives us a stunning glimpse into the heart of Jesus:  “...who, in the days of His flesh, when He had offered up prayers and supplications, with vehement cries and tears... was heard because of His godly fear, though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.”

Just stop and think about that . . .  Jesus — the Son of God — learned obedience through suffering. Not because He was sinful, but because He was fully human. He understands the difficulty of obeying when it costs you something. That’s not just theological truth — that’s deeply comforting.

So what do we do when obedience feels hard? When it’s inconvenient, confusing, or even painful?

Guilty but Free: Christ Our Advocate

Imagine this:  you've been arrested and indicted for a very serious crime. The prosecution has done its homework. They’ve gathered the evidence, lined up the witnesses, reviewed every moment leading up to the crime. There’s no escape—they’ve got you dead to rights.

So now, you are called into court to stand trial. The judge enters the room, and everyone rises. The jury sits down, ready to hear testimony. The air is thick with tension. You know the facts. You know what you’ve done. And worst of all—you know you’re guilty.

The Consumer Mindset in Church

We live in a consumer-driven culture. Whether you’re shopping for shoes, a phone, or even deciding where to eat, we are constantly presented with choices designed to cater to our preferences. 

A recent example from my own life:  I spent an entire week researching the perfect deck box. I visited Walmart, Fresno Ag, Home Depot, and scoured Amazon—comparing sizes, materials, reviews—wanting to make the right choice. It made sense; I was the customer. I had a need, and I was determined to find the product that fit my criteria.

This kind of decision-making defines much of how we live. Our culture says:  “Find what suits you best. Customize it. Choose what makes you happiest.” And that works fine—until we bring that consumer mindset into the church.

More and more people today approach church like they would a restaurant, gym, or streaming service:  “Does it meet my needs? Do I like the worship style? Is it convenient for my schedule?” If expectations aren’t met, they move on. But is this how God intended us to relate to the church?

The Five Principles of Discipleship: A Journey of Growth, Service, and Dependence on God

Discipleship is at the heart of the Christian life, calling believers to follow Jesus, grow in faith, and help others do the same. In Colossians 1:28-29, the Apostle Paul lays out five key principles of discipleship: proclaiming Jesus, teaching and warning with wisdom, aiming for spiritual maturity, embracing the cost of discipleship, and relying on God's power. These principles guide us in our journey as disciple-makers and strengthen our walk with Christ.

Wrestling With Temptation

"Did you see that? -- I can't believe it! The Road Warriors have turned on STING! -- their own partner!"

So went the announcer -- on and on, as the crowd "boo'ed" and cheered. In the center of the wrestling ring, two men called the Road Warriors, had just "pulverized" the three-man opposing team, and were now turning their tumbles, jabs, slaps, and what-have-you against Sting, the third member of their own team!

Unlike, the perplexed announcer, I think it is easy to figure out what was going on. The Road Warriors apparently saw better opportunities on the "dark side" of the ring; better matches, more notoriety, more money. Surely, even if you have seen only one wrestling match, you know they are full of symbolism; good verses bad, nice verses mean, decent verses deceitful . . . costumes and gimmicks give it away.

Fishing the Pond . . . and the Deep!

The last two summers I have tried to take up fishing again; I used to fish when I was younger. Wormy fingers and the smell of salmon eggs are nothing new, but I seem to have forgotten the important things. By important, I mean the things that go beyond the basics -- I know how to tie a line, bait a hook and all of that -- I just don't remember how to get the fish to cooperate.

When I was growing up, I don't remember many Saturdays going by that my grandfather hadn't planned a fishing expedition up to Millerton Lake. Unlike me, my grandfather knew how to get the fish to cooperate; not only on his line, but on my line too! He'd say. "Looks like a big one right over there by that log. I'd cast, and sure enough, the fight was on!

Trusting In A Two-By-Four

Most of us know, and can easily identify a piece of lumber known as a “two-by-four” when we see one. I’ve been around them in one way or another since as far back as I can remember. They are seen everywhere, and people use them to build almost everything. In fact, you are probably within a few feet of one right now, though it might be hidden from view behind sheet rock or plaster.

Every carpenter and contractor out there would identify the same board as a “two-by-four”. Two-by-fours are a mainstay and building block, so to speak, of the construction industry. If you want to go into carpentry and can’t identify a two-by-four when you see one, I think it would be good idea to consider choosing a different line of work.

Not only do professionals and Do-It-Yourself guides identify the piece of wood as a “two-by-four,” also, if asked, almost anyone will tell you it gets its very name because of the measurements attributed to it – two inches by four inches.

I find it interesting that so many of us know a two-by-four when we see one, and yet few of us know that it isn’t really a two-by-four at all.

“What do you mean?” I can hear you say. Well, let me explain . . .