06/13/2026
This is one of the most important reads you could ever read. We encourage you to take the time - put aside the distractions - and take the time to read this timeless truth from Sarah Trent for every believer in Jesus:
"It started as a joke.
I was walking up the aisle during choir practice at youth camp, phone in hand, focused on getting a video. Mrs. Lori Harvey stopped me and smiled.
"How far would you have made it if I hadn't stopped you?"
We laughed.
I kept walking.
But the question didn't.
It followed me through chapel services and altar calls.
It sat beside me during preaching.
It echoed through the songs.
It lingered in the quiet places when everyone else had gone to bed.
How far would you have made it if I hadn't stopped you?
how far would you have made it by now if you hadn't stopped to look to the right or to the left?
How far would you have made it if you hadn't allowed yourself to become distracted by things that never had the power to satisfy you?
How far would you have made it if you had followed hard after Me?
Not followed occasionally.
Not followed when it was convenient.
Not followed when the road was smooth.
Followed hard.
The kind of pursuit David spoke of when he said, "My soul followeth hard after thee." (Psalm 63:8)
The kind of pursuit that keeps walking when the wilderness is long.
The kind of pursuit that keeps worshipping when the answer hasn't come.
The kind of pursuit that keeps believing when the grave is still sealed.
And suddenly my thoughts drifted to all the places I have stopped.
The places where disappointment slowed my steps.
The places where grief sat down beside me.
The places where fear convinced me to wait when God had already said, "Go."
The places where I became more aware of my wounds than His worthiness.
How far would I have made it if I had worshipped in the ashes?
Not after the healing.
Not after the breakthrough.
Not after the miracle.
But in the ashes.
In the place where dreams died.
In the place where prayers seemed unanswered.
In the place where all I had left to offer was a trembling hallelujah.
Because anyone can worship when the stone rolls away.
But there is something holy about the believer who worships while the stone is still there.
There is something powerful about the saint who sings in the midnight prison.
There is something heaven-stopping about the child of God who kneels in the rubble and says,
"Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."
I wonder how many miles we lose looking sideways.
How many victories are delayed because we stopped to compare.
How many miracles are missed because we became fascinated with distractions.
How many doors remain unopened because discouragement convinced us to sit down beside them.
The enemy rarely needs to destroy a believer.
Most of the time he only needs to distract one.
If he can get your eyes off Jesus, he doesn't care where they land.
Just not on Him.
Just not on the One who called you.
Just not on the One who is worthy of your full affection.
And that is why Hebrews tells us to run with patience, "looking unto Jesus."
Because whatever you look at long enough will eventually determine the direction you walk.
And if you keep looking at the storm, you'll drift.
If you keep looking at the crowd, you'll drift.
If you keep looking at your failures, you'll drift.
But if you keep looking at Jesus, you will find yourself moving forward even when you feel weak.
Even when your knees shake.
Even when your heart is breaking.
Even when your hands are full of ashes.
How far would I have made it by now?
But maybe an even better question is this:
How far could I still go if I stopped stopping?
If I stopped entertaining distractions.
If I stopped measuring my journey against someone else's.
If I stopped staring at my wounds longer than I stare at my Savior.
If I stopped waiting for the ashes to become beautiful before I worshipped in them.
Because there is still road ahead.
There is still purpose ahead.
There is still territory to possess.
There are still souls to reach.
There are still prayers to pray.
There are still songs to sing.
And there is still a Savior worth following with every ounce of my heart.
So let the ashes remain ashes if they must.
Let the wilderness remain wilderness for a little longer.
Let the tears keep falling.
But I am going forward.
I am following hard after Him.
And when I finally reach home, I do not want my story to be one of distractions.
I want it to be said that I kept walking.
That I kept worshipping.
That I kept following.
That I followed Him through the wilderness, through the grief, through the unanswered questions, through the ashes, until the ashes became glory."
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