We’re walking this long road together, you and I. So let’s walk it well. It’s a road that winds and curves and is filled with days of storm and days of spring. Our destination is lovely, but there are moments we wonder if we’ll ever get there. And so we walk. Together.

So let’s be gentle with each other, let’s not puff ourselves up and treat the walk as some race to be won but rather a relay where we hold each other up and pass our baton back and forth to say “we’re in this and I’ve believe in you.” Let’s find no greater joy than to celebrate peace with each other as we walk. We are part of the same family, greatly loved by the same Father and bound together by the same Spirit. Hope is our heartbeat. Our Lord has gone to hell and back for us to prove His adoration of us and His desire for us to be with this family, on this road, walking this walk. And He did something else because He knew we would some days wonder if we’ll really make it. He gave each of us gifts to share. Some of us can see the destination more clearly, some of us can encourage even the most disheartened. Some of us tend to wounds and some of us know how to nourish. Oh, and there are those on the walk who call those who haven’t yet started the journey, saying, “we’re in this and we believe in you and please walk – please walk.” And together, our gifts become the purest gift of celebration that we truly ARE in this and every step of our walk informs and builds and strengthens our faith in the God who claims us and walks with us. We walk into understanding. We walk into wholeness. He completes every small thing that concerns us as we walk. Eyes become clear and legs become strong. Hands become eager to hold and hearts become hungry for truth. And we learn to love – real, abiding, overcoming, always-present, never-shirking, going-to-the-depths love that has healing and life coursing through its veins. Love that makes us real. Love that knits us together.

That’s what the walk does for us. Oh yes, let’s walk it well.

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You’ll hear the siren call on the journey, because the road is long and there are stretches that seem unending. You’ll hear the sound of the calling away to darker paths, to “no one else but me” and “no time but now” and “don’t give a damn.” Those paths make hearts brittle and knees weak and love evaporate. Here’s my hand. Hold it when the sound overwhelms you. Let me dust the darkness from your radiant clothes and sing over you to drown out the clamor.

“God the glorious, we are His own. God the glorious, His love is shown. Christ, our Lord and King, mighty in grace. Christ, our Lord and King, now face-to-face.”

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We are walking this long road together, you and I. Let’s walk it well. Let’s care for each other, disagreeing with dignity so that we give no room for division to do harm. Let’s lay down entitlement and privilege, and labor well to serve others first. Let’s watch our words, using each as steps to help someone climb higher and not bricks to bury them. Let’s love each other the way we have been loved so richly by Christ. Let’s hold each other to the highest, seeing everyone on the road as precious and valuable and worthy of great honor. Let’s hold each other to the highest, praying for those who haven’t yet taken a hand. Let’s be kind. Let’s forgive quickly. Let’s be gentle.

Every day, let’s say “we’re in this and I believe in you.”


Oh Father God, you have set our feet in beautiful places. This long road is filled with everything pertaining to a life lived richly in Your love. You have surrounded us with people to refine that love, to deepen faith, to reveal Your image. I should be always grateful, always ready to keep walking, never tempted by the sirens. And yet, I confess that there are times I would rather not walk at all. There are seasons I would rather find solace in darkness rather than find healing in light. There are moments I would rather be alone, rather not be bothered by the people who feel more like sandpaper than silk, rather hand-pick who passes the baton my way – or the person my hands reach out to help. Forgive me for not walking well. Please today, sweet Lord – clear eyes to see, nimble legs to respond, open hands ready for whatever – and whoever – You set before them. Today, Lord, let me honor You by walking well. Today, Lord, let there be an opportunity to say “we’re in this together and I believe in you.” 

Where does the road with others become challenging for you? What wisdom can you share about how to walk the road well?