When I was growing up, there was a saying I heard more than once: Don’t take the easy way out.
It was never really an argument against efficiency or simplicity. It was a warning against laziness, avoiding responsibility, or doing less than the work required. Taking the easy way out meant rushing through something that deserved more attention, settling for a temporary fix, or doing just enough to get by. Usually, the results showed it. The work was sloppy, hasty, substandard, or temporary.
I thought about that saying again this morning while I was praying and thinking about some of the decisions and choices in front of me. A thought began to settle in: there will be times when I have two reasonable choices, and one will be easier than the other. The easier choice may not even be wrong. That is what makes the decision subtle.
Sometimes the more difficult path will simply feel like the right one. Not because it is difficult, but because of where it leads and what it requires of me along the way.
Flowing water gives me a good picture of the easy way. Left to itself, water follows gravity and the terrain around it. It flows downhill and finds the available course. Rocks, soil, fallen trees, elevation, and countless other outside forces influence where the water goes. There is nothing wrong with that. It is simply the nature of water.
Water is also extraordinarily powerful. Given enough time, it can cut channels, move soil, erode rock, and reshape entire landscapes. The Grand Canyon was carved principally through the persistent action of the Colorado River and erosion over an immense period of time. So water is not weak. But its course is largely determined by the environment it encounters.
That is where the illustration became personal for me.
If I am not careful, I can live the same way. I can allow circumstances to determine my direction. I can allow comfort to determine my decisions. I can allow inconvenience, resistance, or fear to decide what I will and will not do. I can spend a lifetime moving without necessarily moving toward anything. I can simply meander.
That does not mean the harder way is always the right way. Sometimes the simplest solution really is the best solution. Good management, good engineering, and plain common sense often involve removing unnecessary work and complexity.
I am not looking for difficulty for the sake of difficulty. But I am beginning to recognize that resistance is not always a warning that I am headed in the wrong direction. Sometimes resistance is part of what produces growth.
Physical training makes this obvious. A muscle becomes stronger because it is required to work against resistance. The resistance itself is not the objective. Strength is the objective. Resistance is simply part of the process.
I think much of life works the same way. Sometimes the work I am tempted to avoid is exactly the work that will develop me. Sometimes the conversation I would rather postpone is the conversation that needs to happen. Sometimes doing something properly requires more patience, thought, discipline, and effort than I would prefer to give it. That old saying comes back again: Don’t take the easy way out. Not because hard is automatically better, but because taking the easy way out can mean allowing discomfort to make the decision.
There is another image in Scripture that takes this idea further. James writes, “Look also at ships: although they are so large and are driven by fierce winds, they are turned by a very small rudder wherever the pilot desires.” — James 3:4 NKJV
The words that caught my attention are wherever the pilot desires.
A ship encounters wind, currents, waves, and sometimes violent storms. But unlike water simply flowing across the landscape, a ship has a destination. It is being directed.
A good captain does not stubbornly sail in a straight line regardless of conditions. Sometimes the course must be adjusted. Sometimes the storm should be avoided. Sometimes wisdom requires changing speed or direction. But adjusting the course deliberately is very different from drifting.
Hebrews warns us to “give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away.” — Hebrews 2:1 NKJV
Drifting requires almost no effort. That may be the danger. You do not necessarily have to make a terrible decision to drift away from where you intended to go. Sometimes you simply stop making intentional decisions. You stop steering. You allow circumstances, convenience, and the preferences of the moment to take over. Eventually, you can find yourself somewhere you never intended to be.
I think this is at the heart of what I was hearing this morning: Take responsibility for the course.
Pay attention to the choices in front of you. Do not automatically reject something because it is difficult, and do not automatically choose something because it is easy. Discern where the better path leads, and then be willing to accept the resistance that may come with it.
For me, there is an important spiritual balance in this.
Proverbs says, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps.” — Proverbs 16:9 NKJV
I have a responsibility to plan, choose, steer, work, and exercise discipline. But I do not want to do any of those things independently of God. I want Him directing my steps. Perhaps that is the distinction I needed to understand.
I do not need to seek the hard way. I need to seek the right way. And once I recognize the right way, I should not abandon it simply because another path offers less resistance.
Sometimes growth is waiting on the other side of the work I would rather avoid. Sometimes the better result requires more patience. Sometimes maturity requires doing something uncomfortable. Sometimes faith requires continuing to steer when the wind changes.
So perhaps the saying I heard growing up still works just fine.
Don’t take the easy way out.
But today I understand it a little differently.
Don’t let comfort choose your course.