Have we run out of road?

The road stretches on. The message is unchained, free, relentless; it can’t be boxed in by walls or silenced by opposition.

There are moments—maybe you've felt them—when it seems like the road ahead for the gospel is narrowing, like we're running out of space, like the message that once turned the world upside down is now struggling to find traction.

Maybe it’s the constant hum of social media, the barrage of bad news, the endless to-do lists. The Netflix binges, the pursuit of success, the pressure to muddle together the perfect life, facing the workplace cynicism, the deconstruction, the feeling that faith is outdated. We're a people of faith and don't always have the answers that stop the baying of the mocking voices. And then there are those quiet, niggling questions that creep in during the still moments—accompanied by the cultural shifts, the headlines, the questions we never used to ask, or even thought of. It can feel like the road is coming to an end.

Let it rise up in you—the conviction that actually... we’re not running out of road.

The gospel isn’t a fragile thing, it’s not a trend, not a passing phase, not something that depends on cultural acceptance or approval ratings. The gospel is Jesus—alive, present, moving, and looking back to look forward, we see that Jesus doesn’t run out of road.

The early church must have felt it too—pressured, marginalised, misunderstood. Persecuted. Paul, writing from a Roman prison cell, could have easily thought the road had ended for him too. Yet his letters, written in the midst of suffering, continue to inspire and shape lives today—reminding us that the gospel transcends time and circumstance. Put reading glasses on and take a good look at what he says: “I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound!” (2 Timothy 2:9).

There it is. The road stretches on. The message is unchained, free, relentless; it can’t be boxed in by walls or silenced by opposition.

History tells us something powerful too. Every time it seemed like the gospel had run out of road, God burst suddenly and unexpectedly on the scene and made a way; the early church pressed on through persecution, the Reformation broke through centuries of religious stagnation, and revival fires swept through unexpected places, stirring hearts and turning lives inside out. Again and again, what seemed like a dead end was actually a launchpad. Sounds encouraging to me!

What about today? Right now, in a world that feels fractured and weary—divided by cultural tensions, bombarded by social media, and burdened by the relentless pressure to measure up, where everything can be fixed—we might look around and wonder, Is there any road left?

Well, ask yourself this little beauty—has there ever been a better moment for grace? For hope? For redemption? It's time for an "Amen!"

People are exhausted by the weight of their own stories, longing for something bigger than themselves. And the gospel? It is faster than the hypersonic Kinzhal ballistic missile, penetrates the hardest heart, and speaks right into that weariness. It breathes life into those dry bones.

Jesus said, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18). That’s not just a promise—it’s a reality, and it's what He's doing.

The gospel is advancing, even when we don’t see it. Even when it feels slow, when it seems like the road is vanishing into the horizon. The gospel we've been entrusted with isn’t dependent on our perception or subject to our timeline. It moves ever forward on the power of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work, always drawing, always renewing.

It's why we are addicted to church planting! Climb a hill, look around—no church? Let's plant one!

So maybe it’s not that we’re running out of road. Maybe it’s that we need to lift our eyes and see that the road is still stretching far and wide, paved with opportunities we never imagined. The fields are white, ready for harvest. Maybe the road doesn’t look the way we thought it would or could, but it’s there—because Jesus is there.

And when Jesus is present, the road never ends. I love it.