🪑 The Long Game
Why God’s work often takes longer than we like—but it’s always worth it.
And the Lord answered me:
“Write the vision;
make it plain on tablets,
so he may run who reads it.
For still the vision awaits its appointed time;
it hastens to the end—it will not lie.
If it seems slow, wait for it;
it will surely come; it will not delay.”
—Habakkuk 2:2–3
A friend once told me that the best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago.
The second-best time? Today.
That’s how God’s work often feels. You plant something, and for a long time, it looks like nothing is happening. But underground, roots are forming. Slowly, silently, the structure is being built to hold up something lasting.
It’s easy to get discouraged when you don’t see fruit right away. But good fruit always starts underground.
I like things fast.
Fast Wi-Fi. Fast food. Fast answers to prayer.
And when God gives me a vision for something—like a thriving church outside a small town—I want to see it take off yesterday.
But God doesn’t microwave revival. He plants seeds. He waters the soil. And then He waits with us.
There’s a saying I’ve heard more than once, and I’ve come to believe it:
People overestimate what they can do in one year, and underestimate what they can do in ten.
That’ll preach, won’t it?
Because if you’ve ever tried to change anything—your health, your habits, your family rhythms, your church—you know how tempting it is to want results… now. We want the instant glow-up. The viral moment. The magic Sunday, where everything clicks and the seats are full and the communion supplies run low.
But real growth—lasting, godly, deep-down fruit—doesn’t come in a rush.
It comes through a slow and steady obedience. Through faithfulness in obscurity. Through loving people, one visit, one meal, one prayer at a time.
At Bethany Church, we’ve been learning this in real time.
When I first stepped into this little congregation of 11 people, I didn’t know what to think. Over several months, God placed a burden in my heart to see this and other small churches not just stay open, but become healthy… To move from surviving to thriving. But I forgot that it is a long journey. But through it all, the one constant has been this: God moves at the pace of real relationship.
He’s not interested in building something flashy. He’s interested in forming something faithful.
And that takes time.
Sometimes it feels like nothing is happening.
Like we’re just spinning wheels or repeating routines.
But then, out of nowhere, a new family walks through the door.
A kid brings their friend to VBS.
A longtime attender raises their hand to serve.
A skeptical neighbor shows up just to “check it out.”
And you realize—God has been working all along. Just mostly underground.
That’s what Habakkuk needed to hear.
He was crying out to God, trying to make sense of the mess around him.
And God’s response wasn’t, “Here’s a fix.”
It was, “Here’s a vision. Write it down. Keep it close. Because it’s coming.”
“If it seems slow, wait for it. It will surely come.”
I don’t know what vision God has put in your heart.
Maybe it’s healing in your marriage.
Maybe it’s seeing your child return to faith.
Maybe it’s reaching people in your town who seem completely disinterested in Jesus.
Whatever it is—if it’s God’s vision—it’s not wasted. Even when it feels like it’s taking forever.
Even when you’re tired.
Even when you’re not sure anyone notices or cares.
Let me tell you something I need to remind myself of regularly:
Just because something’s slow doesn’t mean it’s dead.
Think of all the places in Scripture where God shows up late by human standards… and right on time in His divine plan.
Lazarus was four days in the grave.
The Israelites wandered for forty years.
David waited decades to wear the crown he was anointed for as a boy.
Even Jesus waited thirty years to begin His public ministry—and He’s the Son of God!
So if you’re feeling behind… if it seems like the dream is crawling forward while the world is sprinting past…
Hang in there.
Write the vision.
Make it plain.
Run with it.
And wait for the Lord’s appointed time.
Because He hasn’t forgotten.
He hasn’t misplaced the blueprint.
And He’s never, ever in a hurry.
Here on the porch, we’re learning to live by the rhythms of faithfulness.
We don’t chase hype.
We don’t measure worth by speed.
We trust the slow grace of God to do what only He can.
This is the long game. And it’s worth playing.
Grace & Peace—
Adam
📣 Quick Reminder
Thank you to everyone who’s shared and subscribed this past week. We launched paid subscriptions for The Pastor’s Porch last Monday, and I’m really encouraged by your kindness and support.
If you missed that post, here’s the link with all the details and why I believe this little corner of the internet can serve both weary sheep and rural shepherds:
👉 Click here to read “Let's Build Something That Lasts" and explore paid tiers
Paid subscribers get access to bonus posts, behind-the-scenes reflections, and early access to devotional content in the works.
But don’t worry—the weekly Monday post remains completely free for everyone. I’m grateful you’re here.
🪑 Porchside Update:
It’s been two weeks since my father died. I think we’re doing okay. Dad was, like many of us, a complicated man, and so were most of his relationships. In some ways, we were close, and in other ways, Dad wasn’t “close” with anyone. I find myself thinking of calling him periodically when I come across someone he taught in school or a story that I think he’d find funny. I guess those of you who have been down this road can relate all too well to that.
In happier news, Christina and I celebrated 16 years of marriage on Friday! She surprised me with a night away and no kids. First time we’ve been on a kid-free excursion in a long time. It was nice. And we bought each other new Bibles. I mean, after all, we’re a ministry couple. What could be more exciting? 😁