Last night, as I was scrolling through reels, one from The Chosen really spoke to me. It said:
‘You will do and see things you cannot imagine. You’ll be adored, hated, needed, lost, and found. You will live everywhere and nowhere. You will lose all your friends and your own life. You will go to the ends of the earth and be part of the greatest movement.
People will say that you’re a fool, that I was a fool, and that it was all a lie; others will celebrate your memory and call you a saint. But none of that is the point; the point is that you would have said YES to the NO of the world. That you hoped against hope, and believed against belief. That you surrendered everything and lived and held fast to the very end.
Will you follow me?”
I can’t lie — I was in tears, and even now, as I write this post, the emotions are still with me.
We spend so much of our lives trying to control everything, insisting that it has to go a certain way, clinging so tightly to our beliefs and hopes, only to realize that at the end of the day, the world doesn’t value them.
It makes you reflect on your life and recognize that the love Jesus had for His apostles is the same love He has for each of us. He has a message for every chapter of our lives. This reel, this message, described our experiences perfectly — feeling misunderstood, misjudged, even when we act with love and kindness.
I think the hardest thing is to truly follow Him — to be the “Yes” in a world that says “No,” to hope against hope, to believe even when everything in the world suggests otherwise. Childhood gives us a perspective that makes this easier; we see the world with wonder. Yet God is still present in our souls, quietly nurturing our hearts in the moments we need Him most — often in the most unexpected ways.
The lesson, I believe, is to not feel guilty for the times you were kind and were mistreated, when you smiled and were met with scorn, when you reflected God’s love, but things turned out differently. God has a plan. We can’t control how others respond, but we can remain hopeful, trusting that our acts of love ripple outward, planting seeds that may grow in ways we will never see. And at the other end, Jesus awaits.
Meanwhile, we may feel we still have work to do here, baggage to tend to, responsibilities that keep us grounded. Just this week, I had an unexpected encounter with a woman I had never met before. She shared with me a vision she had: Jesus appeared to her in a dream, floating miraculously, offering to take her with Him. She declined, saying she couldn’t just go — she had no luggage, wasn’t ready to leave things behind.
We all feel that way at times — worried about leaving things unfinished, about whether we’ve done enough. Only Jesus knows each of our stories. And I am deeply grateful that she trusted me enough, a stranger, to share hers.
And in the end, maybe the lesson is simple: we don’t need to have everything figured out, and we don’t need the world to understand or approve. What matters is saying “yes” to love, hope, and faith — even when it’s hard, even when it feels like no one else will see it. Each act of kindness, each moment of trust, is a part of a larger story we can’t yet fully see. And knowing that Jesus walks with us through every step — through the doubts, the fears, and the small, quiet victories — is enough to keep us moving forward, gently, with faith in His timing.
Katherine's Blog 