The world says perseverance looks like pushing through.
Grinding it out.
Toughing it up.
Doing whatever it takes to keep going—even when everything in you is breaking.
And for a while, I believed that.
I lived it.
I performed it.
But that kind of perseverance doesn’t lead to breakthrough.
It leads to burnout.
To being soul-tired.
To waking up one day wondering how you can feel so distant from the God you say you trust.
What I’ve come to learn is that perseverance with God isn’t about striving.
It’s not about spiritual performance.
It’s not about holding it all together.
It’s about returning.
Returning when you don’t feel ready.
Returning when you’re still hurting.
Returning when shame whispers you should’ve known better.
That’s what perseverance looks like for me now.
Not powering through… but gently turning back.
One prayer at a time.
One journal entry.
One whispered, “I’m still here, Lord.”
I remember the years when I felt lost inside my own life.
Raising five kids.
Caring for my grandfather.
Trying to carry everything, and forgetting that I didn’t have to carry it alone.
And when it all got too heavy, I didn’t walk away from God exactly…
but I stopped reaching for Him.
Stopped expecting to feel held.
I just… drifted.
And yet—He never drifted from me.
That’s what I cling to now.
That even when my prayers are messy, and my faith is fragile, and my spiritual rhythm is more like a stutter than a song…
God is still God.
Still good.
Still holding me.
Perseverance, for me, is choosing to abide.
Not because it feels easy.
Not because I’ve figured it all out.
But because I’ve lived long enough to know:
I don’t want to do this life unanchored.
So I come back.
Again and again.
To the One who never left.
And when I can’t find the words, I let the returning be enough.
Because with God, it always is.
Where might God be inviting you to return—not with pressure, but with open hands?
With love and belief in you,
P.S. I wrote this post as part of this week’s Five Minute Friday writing prompt, where writers reflect on a single word—in this case, persevere.
9 Responses
This is a great post. I like the idea of perseverance as returning!
Thank you Lesley! I appreciate your kind words ☺️
That is so true. a great post and a helpful reminder not to lose touch with the source of our life.
Thank you so much!
This is so good, Andrea.
Thanks for sharing.
I feel like this was written just for me. It wasn’t, of course, but it feels just that personal.
I am so glad it spoke to you. Every morning my prayer is that the Lord would speak through my words to those who need to hear them. So yes, it was written just for you 😊
Love this! It makes me think of Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus. And that was enough.
My body is a blazing wreck
and strength is nearly gone.
I want to quit, but what the heck,
I may as well go on
and cross over yonder hill,
see what there is to see
while cancer is intent to kill
all that is left of me,
for sitting down beside the road
and taking off my ruck
isn’t gonna ease my load,
nor will it bring me luck,
for happiness comes at a cost,
and if we quit, its chance is lost