The Hidden Power of Goodness

Read

Galatians 6:9 “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Think

Goodness isn’t glamorous. In fact, most of the time it’s overlooked. It doesn’t get the applause. It doesn’t trend. It doesn’t demand attention. Goodness is quiet. Consistent. Often hidden. And that’s exactly what makes it powerful.

Paul’s words in Galatians 6:9 are both encouraging and honest: “Let us not become weary in doing good.” Why would he say that? Because doing good—consistently, faithfully, and without recognition—gets exhausting. Especially when it doesn’t feel like it’s making a difference. When you’ve been showing up, doing the right thing, extending grace, resisting compromise—and no one seems to notice. No doors open. No applause comes. Just more of the same. But Paul’s reminder is clear: there will be a harvest. Your faithfulness is not wasted. Your goodness is not invisible to God. He sees every moment of quiet obedience. Every time you take the high road. Every time you choose integrity over attention. Every time you respond with love when frustration would be easier. And in His timing—not yours—fruit will grow.

The Greek word for “goodness” used in the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22) is agathōsynē. It goes beyond general kindness. It implies a moral integrity—a goodness that chooses what is right, even when it’s costly. It’s more than being nice. It’s being whole. It’s living in alignment with God’s heart, God’s character, and God’s truth. And that kind of goodness is rare. Because we live in a world that constantly asks, “What will I get out of this?” But goodness asks, “What reflects God here, whether or not anyone sees it?”

That’s what makes this fruit so transformative. It shapes who you are when no one is looking. It doesn’t wait for affirmation. It doesn’t adjust based on the audience. It flows from a life rooted in the Spirit. You become good not because you’re trying harder—but because you’re staying closer to the One who is good.

Think about how often we’re tempted to measure our spiritual life by visibility. “Did anyone notice what I did?” “Is this helping me move forward?” “Why am I working this hard when no one seems to care?” But goodness reframes the question. It asks not, “Did it work?” but “Was it right?”

Jesus lived this way. He healed in quiet places. He prayed alone. He served people who couldn’t repay Him. He told people not to broadcast the miracles. He did good not to be known—but because He knew who He was. And when your identity is secure in God, you don’t need constant feedback. You just need to be faithful. But still—doing good is tiring. Not just in big acts of service, but in the daily grind. Being honest in your work. Being patient with your kids. Being generous with your time. Choosing humility in an argument. Forgiving again. And again. And again.

If you’re weary in doing good, you’re not alone. That’s why this verse exists. To remind you: you’re not crazy. You’re not behind. And you’re not alone. The Spirit sees. The Father smiles. And the harvest will come. It may not look like success. It may not happen on your timeline. But you are planting seeds that are doing far more than you can see right now. God’s economy is long-term. And goodness always has impact—because it always reflects Him.

So what does goodness look like today? It might mean staying the course when no one’s cheering you on. Doing the right thing even when it won’t benefit you. Encouraging someone else instead of drawing attention to yourself. Living like God is watching—even if no one else is. And the truth is, He is watching. Not with a clipboard and scorecard. But with the tender eyes of a Father who delights in every small, unseen act of faithfulness.

The question is not whether goodness matters. It’s whether you’ll keep choosing it when the reward isn’t immediate.

Apply

Pick one “unseen” thing to do today—not to be noticed, but because it’s right. Leave a kind note anonymously. Take care of a task no one wants to do. Pray for someone quietly without telling them. Let goodness become a rhythm, not a performance.

Pray

God, thank you for being good—even when I don’t always see it. Teach me to reflect your goodness in how I live, speak, and serve. Help me choose integrity over image, faithfulness over visibility, and quiet obedience over recognition. Let my life bear fruit that points to you—even when no one else sees. In Jesus’ name. Amen.