Beloved, let me take you back with me for a moment.
It was many years ago now, yet the ache of that season still lingers with me. I was moving through a stretch of life when even ordinary days seemed to carry extra weight. One trial seemed to stack itself on top of another. My heart was tired. My spirit was worn thin. I was still moving forward—but barely.
I needed to hear from God.
Not a sermon idea.
Not a clever thought.
Not a borrowed word.
I needed Him.
That evening, I found myself alone with my Bible, just hours away from having to stand before a local congregation and speak. The weight of that responsibility pressed on me. I remember thinking, Lord, I have nothing to give tonight. I am fighting my own battles. I’m empty.
And from that place of desperation, I cried out,
“Lord, I must hear from You.”
I pulled my Bible closer, more out of hunger than habit. As I opened it, something unexpected happened. A small piece of paper slipped loose from the pages and fell into my lap.
It was folded into four.
Old.
Worn.
Forgotten.
Or so I thought.
I unfolded it slowly…and the moment I saw it, my breath caught in my chest.
I knew exactly what it was.
It was my grandfather’s handwriting.
A treasure.
I’ve written many times about my grandfather on my mother’s side. I never had the opportunity to meet him personally. He passed away a few years before I was born. He had been an Amish man—quiet and faithful—who later encountered Christ in a sovereign way. That encounter led him to leave the old life behind and become a pastor known for his love and hope within the community.
People used to say that if you stopped by his home, you would almost always find him in the same place. Sitting in his chair. His Bible open. A lamp glowing nearby. Praying. He was never in a hurry. Never distracted. Just there with the Lord. Loving God. Loving people.
Even though I never met him, I’ve always felt a deep connection to him. It’s hard to explain. It’s something deeper than memory. Something that reaches past time. Even now, when I speak of him, my eyes fill with tears.
My dear mother—who has now joined him in heaven—used to tell me stories about him often. And once, years ago, the Lord gave me a dream.
I was preaching in a church. And there, sitting in the congregation, was my grandfather. He leaned forward slightly, eyes gentle, posture attentive. He wasn’t distracted. He wasn’t critical. He was listening—truly listening—like he wanted to catch every word.
I woke up with my heart burning.
When I shared the dream with my mom, she smiled through tears and said softly,
“That was him.”
I believe the Lord gave me that dream to let me know my grandfather was aware of me. That he was proud. That the path I was walking—the calling to love people, to love the Word, to shepherd hearts—was not unseen.
And now, years later, there I was… broken… weary… in need of a word.
Holding a note he had written decades before.
It was likely something he had scribbled for himself. Maybe a sermon note. Maybe a reminder for his own heart. I imagine him sitting in that Middlefield, Ohio home, lamp glowing softly, Bible open on his lap, Spirit stirring his heart to write it down.
He had no idea.
No idea that decades later—across generations—that same piece of paper would be unfolded by his grandson in a fight for spiritual survival.
Written in his hand was a single verse:
“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God:
I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”
— Isaiah 41:10 (KJV)
The tears came quickly.
Not polite tears.
Not quiet tears.
But the kind that spill over when you realize God has seen you all along.
I knew in that moment—this was the Lord speaking to me. And He had chosen to use my grandfather’s faithfulness to do it.
That Bible had been given to me by my grandmother when I first entered ministry in the early 1990s. I’ve treasured it ever since. The underlined passages. The handwritten notes. The quiet testimony of a man who walked with God.
And then, as if the Spirit gently whispered again, I heard a phrase my mother had quoted to me all my life—words my grandfather used to say often:
“Keep on keeping on.”
Oh, what a word.
Fear thou not… keep on keeping on.
Be not dismayed… keep on keeping on.
I am with thee… keep on keeping on.
Dear one, life is filled with valleys and battles. There are seasons when the wind is against you and the road feels long. There are days when you feel like you’re losing your breath just trying to stand.
In those moments—keep on keeping on.
When you grow weary in well-doing—keep on keeping on.
When you feel unseen—keep on keeping on.
When your strength feels small—keep on keeping on.
This world is not your home.
You are called to a greater country. A heavenly one. Your Father knows your name. Every hair on your head is numbered. Scripture tells us He collects your tears in a bottle—not because they are weak, but because they are precious. None of them are wasted. Not one.
He rejoiced over the day you were born. He has never left you. He will never forsake you. And even now, He is cheering you on.
Keep on keeping on.
Keep moving forward.
Keep choosing what is right.
Keep living a holy life.
Keep placing your trust in Him.
Keep praying when words are few.
Keep believing when feelings fail.
Keep loving when it costs you something.
Fear thou not… keep on keeping on.
Be not dismayed… keep on keeping on.
I will uphold thee… keep on keeping on.
Beloved, if you are weary today… if your heart is heavy… if you feel like you’re barely holding on—this word is for you.
Lift your eyes.
Take a breath.
And whisper it with me.
Lord, I will keep on keeping on.
Bring your fears to Him now. Lay down your discouragement. Receive His strength. He is with you. He is upholding you—right now—with His righteous right hand.
Do not quit.
Do not turn back.
Do not lose heart.
Keep on keeping on.
With Love,
Steve Porter
www.morningglorydevo.com
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💬 Thank you for spending a few quiet moments here. If this spoke to you, a brief comment is always a kindness—to me and to others who may be reading.
Yes thank you. Timely for me today.
Lord, I will keep on keeping on :)
Thank you for the encouraging word.