The Road Less Traveled: What It Really Means to Do Greater Things

Most of us want more from our faith than fire insurance. More than a checklist of rules. More than a remedy for guilt. Deep down, there is a longing for something that matters, something significant, something that one day we can look back on and say without hesitation, "No one but God could have done that." The question worth sitting with is this: does the way we are actually living our faith line up with those deeper desires, or have we quietly settled for safe?

That tension is worth exploring, because the gap between what we hope for and what we are willing to do is often wider than we care to admit.

The Promise That Should Stop Us in Our Tracks

In John 14:12, Jesus makes a statement that is almost too staggering to take seriously. He tells his disciples that anyone who believes in him will do what he has been doing, and will do even greater things. This is the same Jesus who opened blind eyes, caused the lame to walk, brought the dead back to life, and restored the broken. And he says that same power is available to those who follow him.

But here is where it gets complicated. Just one chapter earlier, in John 13, the disciples are gathered with Jesus for what would be their final meal together. While sitting in the presence of the Son of God on the most sacred night of their lives, they are arguing about which one of them is the greatest.

Jesus does not lecture them. He does not rank them. He picks up a towel and a bowl and washes their feet. In the ancient world, this was not a symbolic gesture with a warm, sentimental glow. Feet were genuinely filthy. Washing them was considered the lowest task in a household, sometimes too degrading even for servants to be asked to do. And yet Jesus, the one who made the universe, kneels down and does it without hesitation.

His point is unmistakable. In Matthew 20:26, he says it plainly: whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant. Greater things and personal greatness are not the same destination. In fact, they often point in opposite directions.

When Going Forward Feels Foolish

There is a fascinating story from sports history that captures this tension in a surprisingly honest way. Wilt Chamberlain, one of the most physically dominant athletes to ever play professional basketball, had one glaring weakness: he was a terrible free throw shooter. For most of his career, he made only about 40 percent of his attempts from the line.

During the 1961-1962 season, he tried something different. He began shooting free throws underhanded. It worked. On March 2, 1962, in the game where he scored 100 points, he made 28 of 32 free throw attempts, underhanded. It was the most free throws anyone had ever made in a single NBA game.

And then he stopped doing it.

In his own autobiography, Chamberlain explained why. He wrote that he felt silly, like a sissy, shooting underhanded. He admitted he knew he was wrong. He knew it worked. He just could not bring himself to keep doing it. Shaquille O'Neal, another legendary player with the same weakness, was later asked if he would ever consider the same approach. His response was that he would rather shoot zero percent than shoot underhanded.

The solution was available. The evidence was undeniable. But the fear of looking foolish was stronger than the desire to improve.

This is not just a sports story. It is a deeply human one. And it raises a question that cuts to the heart of what it means to follow Jesus: what do you do when going forward in faith makes you feel foolish?

The Long Silence Before the Greater Things

The Old Testament prophet Elisha offers one of the most honest and overlooked pictures of what the road to greater things actually looks like. God chose Elisha out of obscurity, calling him away from his work as a farmer through the prophet Elijah. Elisha responded radically. He burned his farming equipment and his oxen, eliminating any path of return, and committed fully to following Elijah.

And then, for years, almost nothing seems to happen.

When Elisha finally reappears in the story, he is not introduced as God's chosen successor or as a man of remarkable faith and power. He is described simply as the one who used to pour water on the hands of Elijah. In other words, the guy who washed his hands. That is his reputation after years of faithful commitment.

It is the kind of detail that makes you wonder whether you missed something. He burned the plows. He walked away from everything. And what he got in return was years of behind-the-scenes, unrecognized, unglamorous service.

Yet it was precisely that preparation that made what came next possible. When Elisha eventually asked for a double portion of the spirit that rested on Elijah, God granted it. Elijah performed 14 recorded miracles. Elisha performed 28. The preparation was not wasted. It was the point.

Faithful Where You Are

Opportunity without preparation is a disaster waiting to happen. Everyone wants the double portion. Very few volunteer for the process it takes to be ready to carry it.

What if the frustrating, unrecognized, seemingly pointless season you are in right now is not a detour from what God wants to do in your life? What if it is the path itself?

The road to greater things rarely looks the way we imagined. It often runs straight through humility, through service, through tasks that feel beneath us, through seasons where no one seems to notice and progress feels invisible. It sometimes requires doing something that looks foolish to everyone watching.

The invitation is not complicated, even if it is difficult. Stop measuring yourself against others. Stop waiting for the circumstances that feel worthy of your calling. Be faithful where you are. Serve the people in front of you. Trust that a God who promises greater things is also more than capable of preparing you for them.

The road less traveled is not always the dramatic one. Sometimes it is the quiet one. But it leads somewhere worth going.