This is the first in a three-part series of articles titled, “This Is Not About You.” My hope is that each installment challenges and encourages you in meaningful ways.
Pull It One More Mile
This picture has hung in my office since 2018, and every time I look at it, it stirs something deep within me. It’s titled “Pull It One More Mile,” and it captures a moment frozen in time from 1917. In the photograph, a horse strains forward, its hooves planted with determined force, head lowered, muscles taut, every ounce of its being devoted to the task at hand. At first glance, it looks like nothing more than hard work—but there’s a subtle weight in the image that feels incomplete without knowing the story behind it.
What the picture doesn’t show immediately is the world in which this horse worked. You can almost sense it—the depth, the weight of a task that wasn’t meant to be seen or celebrated. And then it hits you: this moment, captured so vividly, took place in the oppressive stillness of an underground mine shaft. A quick flash of light reveals the unseen—a world of complete darkness where this horse and its handlers worked tirelessly, day after day, in conditions most of us can hardly imagine.
What strikes me most is that this labor would have remained unseen if not for the fleeting burst of light from an old camera bulb. The horse wasn’t pulling for applause or recognition. It wasn’t seeking acknowledgment or reward. It simply did what it was created to do: working faithfully in the dark, unseen and uncelebrated. The goal wasn’t to be noticed; the goal was to finish the task.
This picture challenges me every time I see it. It whispers a question to my orphan heart:
Why do you do what you do? Is it to fulfill the call that God has placed on your life, to be faithful to the work He’s given you? Or is it to be noticed while doing it?
In a world obsessed with visibility, where every achievement demands validation and every effort seems incomplete until it’s acknowledged—where every task and victory is carefully curated for social media, as if unseen work holds no value—this picture offers a quiet, steady rebuke. It challenges the unspoken question of our time: If no one saw you do it, did it even matter?
This picture reminds me that true faithfulness doesn’t require a spotlight. True faithfulness happens in the unseen moments, in the places where no one is watching. It’s about showing up, day after day, and giving your best effort—not for the applause of others, but for the sake of the work itself and the One who called you to it.
The horse didn’t need an audience to pull its weight. It didn’t need a pat on the back to keep going. It simply did what it was meant to do. And that kind of quiet, unseen faithfulness speaks volumes about the kind of character and resolve we are called to have as leaders.
So, let me ask you: Can you pull it one more mile? Can you keep leading, working, and serving, even when no one is watching? Like the horse in the picture, there may come a moment of flash—a brief instant when your leadership is seen and recognized. Perhaps even a season when others notice your sacrifice and determination as a leader. I truly hope that happens for you. But the deeper question we must wrestle with is this: Would you still be willing to do the hard, faithful work in the dark, trusting that God sees every moment, even if no one else ever does?
Colossians 3:23-24 (NIV) - Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.
You’re right, our orphan is ever seeking recognition and affirmation. That’s one of the primary identifiers of a victims heart. It afflicted me for years. The Heavenly Father had to hold me in obscurity for extended seasons to save and heal me from it. There’s nothing more freeing when you finally break free and begin to build and find your identity in Jesus. Those of us us who are plagued in varying degrees by an orphan heart our Father has had to place us in situations where we must faithfully work in the dark to purify our motives and take us through the healing process so that all we are motivated to do is to bring glory to God through Jesus. We no longer see ourselves doing anything, but only Christ through us. We’re just the conduit- the vessel.
“Whatever you do [no matter what it is] in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus [and in dependence on Him], giving thanks to God the Father through Him.”
Colossians 3:17 AMP
We grow into such love for Jesus our primary motivation is no longer our recognition, but to bring glory and honor to God, our Father, through Jesus. Our Orphan heart is healed by being made complete in Jesus- we no longer live, but Christ in and through us.
We have to be careful seeing ourselves as that draft horse so as not to transition from an orphan to a martyr heart. We should be practicing yoking ourselves with Jesus- because his yoke is easy when we’re drafting heavy loads with him. Then, all that matters is that Jesus receives the recognition.
Recommitting to writing for the audience of One this year—whether or not my words see the light of day through publishing. 2025: Back to the basics, trusting the goodness of God. Thanks for this encouragement. What a powerful picture to help you (and now us) keep the focus where it needs to be.