The Ache and Beauty of Discipleship

I've been rather dispondent here lately, thinking "How did I get here?" I was raised in church, yet never really DISCIPLED. Week after week, I sat in pews, sang the songs, and listened to the sermons. I knew the Bible stories, the right church lingo, and the motions of faith. But for most of my life, no one ever came alongside me in a way that said, “Let’s walk this out together. Let’s follow Jesus side by side, in the everyday, not just on Sundays.”

There was one season, though. It spanned years, but felt brief all at the same time. Unforgettable still. Someone actually did invest in me and my husband. They didn’t just shake our hands at church or throw a polite “we should get together sometime” in passing. They invited us into their home again and again. They made us part of their rhythms. We shared meals at their table, talked late into the night about real struggles, and they prayed with us like they truly believed God would move. To this day, I don’t know exactly what they saw in us. But what I do know is that it marked me. That experience remains a bookmark in my mind, an example of what it looks like to love people without strings attached.

Because if I’m honest, too often love comes with strings. Invitations sometimes feel less like genuine care and more like a transaction. “I’ll pour into you, but only if you give me loyalty.” “I’ll walk with you, but only if you agree with me.” “I’ll love you, but only until it costs me something.” And the truth is, that’s not love at all. That’s the opposite of love.

Real discipleship doesn’t demand payment. It doesn’t check boxes. It’s not about appearance or recognition. It’s not about building your own little following. It’s about stepping into the mess of life with someone, not to fix them, but to walk alongside them as you both become more like Christ.

Discipleship is gritty. It’s sitting at the kitchen table folding laundry together while you talk about Jesus. It’s showing up at the hospital. It’s babysitting kids so a tired mom can rest. It’s praying with someone through the same struggle for the fifteenth time, even when progress feels slow. It’s doing life together, in the good and the bad.

Here’s the beauty of it: when it’s done right, discipleship isn’t one-sided. When you pour into someone, you don’t just give, you receive. You grow. You see parts of Jesus you wouldn’t have seen otherwise. When you model discipleship, people catch it, and they begin to live it out too. It becomes this beautiful cycle of giving and receiving, teaching and learning, sowing and reaping.

But here’s where it gets hard: what about when it feels completely one-sided?

What about when you’re the one reaching out, but no one checks back on you? When you’ve shared your heart and your home, but people vanish when things get tough? What about when friendships fade, calls don’t come, and the silence screams louder than words ever could?

That hurts. And if you’ve been there, you know how much it stings. It’s not just disappointment, it can feel like rejection. It makes you wonder, Am I not worth it? Did all my effort mean nothing? Why do I seem to care more than they do?

When I wrestle with that, I can’t help but think of Jesus.

His closest friends, the very men He poured three years of His life into, failed Him in His darkest hour. Peter denied even knowing Him. Judas betrayed Him outright. The crowds who cheered for Him one day turned against Him the next. If anyone knows what it feels like to love deeply and not be loved back, it’s Jesus.

And yet, He didn’t stop loving. He didn’t stop discipling. He didn’t stop showing up, even when it cost Him everything.

That’s the call for us, too. To keep choosing discipleship even when it feels one-sided. To love without strings attached. To invest without calculating the return. To keep showing up, even if the effort isn’t reciprocated.

Because discipleship isn’t about what we get out of it. It’s about obedience to Christ and imitation of His love.

So yes, sometimes discipleship will break your heart. Sometimes you’ll feel let down, forgotten, or used. But every act of faithful investment is never wasted in the kingdom of God. He sees it all. He uses it, even the painful parts, to shape us into the likeness of His Son.

I want to be the kind of person who doesn’t give up when it gets hard. Who continues to invite, invest, and love. Because someone once did that for me and it changed everything.

Because, at the end of the day, Jesus is worth it.