Still Open for Business
The building has seen a lot.
Paint faded by decades of sun.
Door handles polished by thousands of hands.
Windows that have looked out on changing streets.
And yet—there is still a shop inside.
Lights on.
Sign in the window.
Someone unlocking the door again this morning.
Places like this exist because people kept showing up.
Day after day.
Year after year.
Not glamorous.
Not loud.
Just faithful.
Many of us learned to measure worth by speed.
By growth.
By applause.
By how quickly something new replaces the old.
Shrinking often grows in that kind of economy.
It tells people they are outdated.
Behind.
Less valuable because they have been around a long time.
Less impressive because they move slowly.
But Christ does not treat people like obsolete structures.
He honors longevity.
He delights in faithfulness.
He keeps investing in lives that look ordinary from the outside.
Stopping shrinking sometimes looks like letting your steadiness matter again.
Letting consistency count.
Letting quiet faithfulness be enough.
There are seasons when perseverance feels invisible.
When no one claps.
When effort goes unnoticed.
When survival itself feels unimpressive.
Jesus sees those seasons.
He notices every door unlocked.
Every morning chosen.
Every return after disappointment.
If today all you can manage is to keep showing up, that is holy.
If you continue instead of quitting, that is worship.
If you honor your own endurance instead of dismissing it, that is healing.
You are not late.
You are not obsolete.
You are still open for business.