The sermon encourages perseverance in doing good, assuring that faithful, unseen efforts matter and will ultimately yield a harvest in God’s perfect timing.
Some of us walked in today a little weary, a little worn, and a little wondering. You’ve been faithful in the small things—praying for prodigals, blessing neighbors, showing up for work with integrity, holding your tongue when it would be easier to snap, trusting God when the calendar feels crowded and the cupboard feels thin. Yet there are days when it seems like your kindness goes unnoticed, your prayers go unanswered, your effort goes unrewarded. You sow, and the soil looks still. You water, and the ground looks hard. You wait, and the season feels stuck.
Have you ever asked, “Lord, does this matter? Does my steady obedience make any difference?” If so, you’re in good company. Scripture speaks to hearts like yours—hands with blisters, backs with burdens, eyes that scan the horizon for the first hint of harvest. Think of a farmer rising before dawn. He doesn’t wrench the seed from the ground to measure progress. He trusts a process he did not design and cannot hurry. He keeps showing up. He keeps tending the field. He leans into a promise that the season will shift, and the seed will sprout.
Adrian Rogers put grit into a single sentence: “It’s always too soon to quit.” That’s the kind of encouragement our Father gives in today’s text. The God who sees in secret is the God who sustains in silence and brings a harvest in season. He is not absent from your efforts or aloof from your aches. Every unseen act of goodness is a seed in His hands. Every quiet prayer is rain on a field you cannot yet see. Every step of steady faith is a stride toward a sure harvest.
Hear the word that meets weary hearts and steady hands:
Scripture Reading: Galatians 6:9 (KJV) “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”
This is a word for parents who tuck in toddlers and tuck away tears. For students who study when no one is applauding. For caregivers who carry a calendar full of appointments and a heart full of love. For saints who have sown kindness in hard places, offered forgiveness in tough moments, and kept showing up when quitting felt tempting. God’s timing may test you, but His heart will never fail you. The harvest belongs to Him. The season belongs to Him. And the strength you need for today flows from Him.
So, take courage. Keep your hand to the plow. Keep your feet on the path of goodness. Keep your eyes on the One who holds the seasons and never wastes a single seed. You are seen. You are strengthened. You are standing in a field that will one day sing with the sound of harvest.
Opening Prayer: Father, we come to You as Your people—some tired, some tender, all in need of Your touch. Breathe strength into weary bones. Brighten hope in waiting hearts. Teach us to keep doing good when we feel invisible, to trust Your timing when ours runs thin, and to stand firm when quitting whispers our name. Let Your Word steady our steps, Your Spirit supply our strength, and Your promise set our perspective. In the name of Jesus, who sows love and reaps life, amen.
Faithfulness grows in quiet places. It grows in long weeks and plain chores. It grows in choices no one schedules and no one grades. Scripture tells us to keep going in good works. It is a steady call. It is a clear path. The verse gives a wise rhythm for life. It names our fatigue. It names our work. It names our hope.
This call is simple. Keep doing good. Keep doing the good you already know to do. Keep doing the good that lines up with the life of Jesus. Keep doing the good that serves people and honors God. Keep doing the good that blesses your city, your church, your home. Small steps count. Quiet deeds count. Everyday faithfulness counts.
There are days when your hands feel heavy. There are days when your plans stall. There are days when your mind feels thin. Scripture does not shame you for that. It meets you there. It tells you where strength comes from. It ties strength to promise. It ties effort to hope. It gives meaning to the long middle.
The verse also sets our clock. It speaks of a season that will come. It speaks of a harvest that belongs to God. It invites trust. It invites patience. It invites steady work while we wait. This way of living keeps anxiety small. It keeps our hearts soft. It keeps our focus clear.
“Weary” is a real word. It speaks to tired bodies and tired minds. It speaks to a heart that feels spent. Weariness can rise from hurry. It can rise from doing good without prayer. It can rise from trying to carry everything alone. It can rise from pain that lingers. Scripture gives permission to name this. You can tell God you are tired. You can ask for help. You can open your Bible and let truth steady you. You can sleep and let your body reset. You can share the load with trusted friends. You can sing when words feel hard. You can keep routines that feed your soul. A simple prayer in the morning. A short Psalm at lunch. A slow walk in the evening. These small paths keep your heart in the light. They keep hope within reach. They keep you from quitting when feelings are loud.
“Well doing” is solid ground. It is more than nice manners. It is a life that mirrors the heart of God. It looks like honesty in money and words. It looks like clean motives and clean hands. It looks like speaking truth with grace. It looks like quiet help for people in need. It looks like opening your table. It looks like fair treatment of coworkers. It looks like forgiving when wronged. It looks like giving when it costs you. It looks like keeping your word. It looks like prayer that names people by name. It looks like serving when your name is not on the flyer. This kind of good work is not a fad. It is a pattern. It shapes you. It blesses others. It reflects Christ to the world. When Scripture says “well doing,” it invites you into this pattern, step by step, day by day.
“Due season” is a gentle phrase. It tells you the clock is in God’s hands. It tells you there is a right time for results. It tells you your calendar is not the only calendar in play. Waiting can feel long. Waiting can stretch you. Waiting can clear your motives. Waiting can heal parts of you that rush would leave broken. In this time, you keep sowing good. You keep speaking life. You keep serving with care. You keep praying with faith. You mark small wins. You thank God for quiet progress. You trust that unseen work is still real work. You trust that God’s timing is wise. You trust that the season will come, and you will be glad you did not push a door that was not ready to open.
“We shall reap, if we faint not” is a promise with a path. It tells you that endurance matters. It tells you that quitting cuts short good fruit. It tells you that the end is worth the middle. Fainting looks like losing heart. Fainting looks like dropping what God put in your hands. Fainting can start with small choices. Little surrenders. Quiet drift. Scripture pulls you back. It says, Keep walking. Keep your grip. Keep your eyes on Jesus. The harvest can take many shapes. A softer heart. A restored home. A clean conscience. A healed habit. A church that shines with love. A neighbor who now knows Christ. A team at work that grows in trust. Even rewards that last beyond this life. God sees all of it. God gathers all of it. God knows how to pay back what your hands could never count.
Galatians 6:9 turns our attention to how God orders results ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO
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