When Doing Good Gets Hard

Read

2 Thessalonians 3:13 “And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good.”

Think

Doing good is easy to talk about. It feels exciting at first—like a fresh start, a noble calling, a meaningful path. But what happens when it starts to wear you out? When the good you’re doing doesn’t get noticed? When the return is slow? When it gets misunderstood, or taken for granted, or flat-out rejected?

Paul’s words in 2 Thessalonians 3:13 are short, but they land with weight: “Never tire of doing what is good.” That implies something most of us already know—doing good can be exhausting. Especially when you’re doing it day after day without affirmation, when the needs keep coming, when you feel poured out and nobody’s pouring back in. You may have started strong—with vision, energy, purpose. But now? You’re tired. You’ve helped, served, shown up, sacrificed… and you're wondering, Is it really making a difference?

This is where the fruit of the Spirit becomes essential. Because goodness is not just a one-time decision. It’s a long-term direction. It’s a way of living that often requires endurance more than emotion. You don’t keep doing good because it feels good—you do it because God is good, and His Spirit is producing that same goodness in you.

Jesus knew this exhaustion. He poured Himself out over and over—feeding crowds, healing strangers, teaching disciples, bearing burdens, facing critics. People followed Him for what He could do for them. Many walked away when His words became hard. His closest friends abandoned Him at His most vulnerable moment. And yet, He didn’t stop doing good. He didn’t let rejection redefine His purpose. He endured.

Why? Because the fruit of goodness wasn’t something He manufactured—it was something that flowed from the Father’s heart. And it’s that same goodness the Spirit wants to grow in you. A kind of goodness that holds steady when applause fades, when people disappoint, when the story doesn’t go as planned. But here’s what’s true: God sees every act of goodness, no matter how small or unrecognized. The email you sent. The dishes you washed. The quiet prayer you prayed for someone who doesn’t even know. The hard yes. The hidden no. The self-restraint. The apology. The offering no one will ever hear about. All of it matters. All of it is seed. And according to Scripture, there will be a harvest—if you don’t give up (Galatians 6:9). That’s the promise. Not that every good deed will be celebrated. Not that it will always feel fulfilling. But that God is using your faithfulness to accomplish something eternal.

Still, it’s okay to admit when you’re tired. Doing good is hard. Especially when it’s thankless. When you’re navigating people’s pain. When you’re leading with integrity while others cut corners. When you’re loving people who aren’t loving you back. It’s holy work—but it’s also draining. That’s why you need rhythms of renewal. You can’t pour out endlessly without being filled up. Even Jesus withdrew to quiet places. Not because He was quitting, but because He knew goodness isn’t sustainable without intimacy with the Father. The best way to keep doing good is to keep abiding.

Today, if you’re discouraged—if you’re tempted to stop trying, to pull back, to go quiet—remember this: you’re not alone. You’re not crazy. And you’re not unseen. Your quiet consistency is changing the atmosphere around you more than you realize. Keep going. Keep serving. Keep showing up. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. Because that’s when goodness becomes not just something you do—but part of who you are.

Apply

If you're feeling worn out from doing good, take one step today to replenish: spend time alone with God, ask someone to pray for you, or say no to something that's been draining your energy. Then, choose one small act of good that aligns with joy—not pressure. Let goodness flow from renewal, not obligation.

Pray

God, you see me when I’m tired. When doing good feels unnoticed or unappreciated, help me remember that you are still working. Strengthen my heart. Restore my joy. And teach me to abide in you so that my goodness comes from overflow, not exhaustion. I don’t want to give up. Help me keep going. In Jesus’ name. Amen.