The Road That Leads Us Home - a poetic short story

Entertainment disciples us more than the church does. We are comfortable but fruitless. We are inspired by 30-second reels and cute Bible verses. Our patterns stay the same; there is no progression in our faith or walk with Jesus. Our hearts are deeply influenced by culture. Purity culture is seen as toxic or even unattainable. We sing worship on Sunday morning and intoxicate ourselves on Sunday afternoon. Suggesting that sin and mental health can sometimes be correlated is taboo. Women don’t need men, and men don’t need women anymore. Your comfort, your happiness, and your children’s happiness are most important, even above obedience. The goal is to work hard and retire rich. No one has an attention span anymore; we are all on a highway, going faster and faster. Until we hit a bump, a bump that paralyzes us in the moment, it shakes us to the core. What is this all for? Who is this all for? We veer off the busy highway and find ourselves on a narrow, bumpy path. It’s a painful transition, but as you find yourself on this path, you rediscover who this is all for, you revisit friends, and they see you, but they don’t. You aren’t the same anymore; you are on separate roads and seem so distant from the person they once knew. You want to save them, don’t they know what happens when they get to the end of their highway? But they smile, distracted, scrolling, numbing the ache with the next trend, the next purchase, the next affirmation. They wave at you from the fast lane, confident they’re making progress because everything around them is moving. But movement isn’t growth, and speed isn’t purpose. So you walk, one step at a time. Some days steady, some days stumbling. The narrow road exposes you, your sin, your idols, your cravings for applause. It feels lonelier than the crowd, but somehow fuller. Every burden lifted reminds you that obedience isn’t a cage, it’s freedom. Every sacrifice whispers that joy isn’t found in comfort but in surrender. And slowly, you realize this road was never meant to impress the masses. It was meant to lead you home. You stop worrying about how to drag others off their highway. You can’t force sight into blind eyes. But you can keep walking faithfully, quietly, steadfastly. You can let the fruit in your life preach louder than reels and slogans ever could. You can let your peace provoke their restlessness. You can let your obedience expose their emptiness. And maybe, just maybe, when the highway finally spits them out, when their speed fails them, when the world they trusted stops giving them what it promised, they’ll veer off at last and be met by the grace of God on the narrow path.