Among the members of our church, there is a person who lives far from the church yet remains deeply committed to a life of faith. She has always been more diligent than anyone in attending services, receiving pastoral visits, and volunteering. Whether it is early morning, daytime, or evening—whether it’s hot or cold, raining or snowing—she never lets the weather deter her devotion.

Because it always pained me to see her coming from such a distance, I once had the chance to gently suggest that she might consider moving closer to the church. Her children were already grown and living out of state, so there didn’t seem to be a strong reason for her to remain where she was.

When I posed the question, her eyes blinked quickly and her throat tightened with emotion. After a moment of collecting herself, she looked up at me carefully and said,

“I’ve thought about moving many times. Our children have encouraged us to come live near them, and I myself have wanted to move closer to the church. But my husband has firmly opposed it. He insists that we cannot relocate until his dream has been fulfilled.”

“His dream?” I asked. “Would you be willing to share what it is?”

“He says he won’t buy or expand a house until we first build God’s house here. He wants to continue living as we are now until that happens. It’s his lifelong dream and desire to leave behind a church in this land where not just we, but our second and third generations, can come together and serve God for generations to come. It was my dream, too, but I wasn’t as resolute or specific about it as he has been.”

As she spoke, she gently held my hand, and I felt a lump in my throat. The clear and profound vision held in the quiet heart of her husband—a man of few words—moved me deeply.

Among immigrant churches, some are fortunate enough to own their own buildings. But the reality is that most churches rent facilities—either borrowing space from American churches or leasing commercial buildings. Our church, too, shares a building with an American congregation. This often means our programs are limited in time and space, which burdens the hearts of both the congregation and the pastor. So we continue to pray earnestly for our own sanctuary.

Believers desire to dedicate themselves to God, yet we come to realize how difficult true devotion becomes when our schedules get crowded, our lives become inconvenient, or when the right conditions don’t seem to align. To offer genuine and wholehearted commitment to God, we must daily and constantly suppress our desires, discomforts, and even our own capabilities, setting our sights on what pleases God and following that aim.

We’ve seen people who were once active in faith slowly start to miss Sunday worship or church gatherings—and eventually fall away from the faith altogether. If serving God is only a means to fulfill our own dreams in this world, then when our personal ambitions conflict with our relationship with God, it becomes all too easy to sever that relationship. When our goals are divided between worldly dreams and heavenly ones, we risk losing both. We cannot comfortably live for worldly security and convenience while also serving God faithfully.

But when our earthly goals and dreams align with a life that brings joy to God, we know—through the lives of many ancestors in faith—that both our dreams on earth and those in heaven can be fulfilled.

Ron Sider, former international president of the Navigators mission organization, once said, “All my life, I have tried not to pursue what I want to do, but rather what I ought to do for God.”

Indeed, there are so many things around us that we ought to be doing for God. That may include building a sanctuary, missions and evangelism, education, social reform, business, or service. When we see scattered pieces of God’s work, the right response isn’t to avoid them, fear them, or take them on begrudgingly. Rather, the Lord is pleased when we joyfully offer our bodies, minds, and lives to Him, making His work the goal of our lives—praying and preparing for it over a lifetime.

There is a saying, “A person’s thoughts become actions, actions become habits, and habits shape destiny.”
So what occupies your thoughts today? Are they dreams and goals of this world, or of heaven?

One who dreams of running a single mile may grow weary before even reaching halfway. But one who aims to run ten miles will surely complete one mile with ease—and have energy to spare.

Through the sincere faith and love of those who serve tirelessly even from afar, I’ve come to understand the secret behind the overflowing blessings in their home and on their children. It is because the heavenly dream—to build God’s house beautifully—is clearly established in that household. And so God Himself has taken responsibility for and firmly supported their earthly dreams.

There’s a saying: “If you break the laws of farming, you’ll fail in the harvest. If you break the laws of construction, the building will collapse. If you break the laws of health, your body will suffer.”
A waiting heart is like that of a farmer—who, according to the calendar, sows at the right time, weeds diligently, and carefully waters the fields to survive both drought and flood. And then, by enduring the scorching sun of autumn, he finally rejoices in a rich harvest.

A building is only useful and enduring when constructed according to proper principles, with iron and cement correctly proportioned. And just as only those who know how to eat in moderation can stay healthy—so too the future is shaped by the steady habits of everyday life.