I read something recently that caught my attention. It was a fictional dialogue between an athlete and a coach. The athlete wrestled with the pressure of discipline, asking whether it would really hurt to loosen up a little—to drink, to party, to live like everyone else. The coach’s responses were honest and thought-provoking. He didn’t rebuke the athlete. He didn’t forbid anything. He simply reminded him that while he could do whatever he wanted, greatness required sacrifice. He told him, in essence: “You can have anything—but you can’t have everything. Every decision has a cost. Every shortcut chips away at the finish line you’re chasing.”
And it’s true. Spiritually, it makes a powerful point. Many Christians live in that exact tension. We know we’re called to something more, but the world keeps offering easy detours. The distractions are louder, the crowds are bigger, and sometimes it feels like obedience makes us the odd ones out. So we ask ourselves the same kind of questions:
“Is this really so bad?”
“Can’t I just relax a little and still follow Jesus?”
“Why does it feel like I can’t have both?”
The coach analogy is solid. But as I sat with it, something stirred in me.
What if it wasn’t a coach answering? What if it was Jesus?
Because let’s be honest—He’s not just trying to train us for a race. He authored our faith. He finished it. He doesn’t just see the path ahead—He is the way. (John 14:6)
So the question changes from “What’s allowed?” to “What’s Christlike?”
From “Can I still be successful?” to “Can I still be surrendered?”
From “What would a coach say?” to “What would Jesus do?”
Because Jesus doesn’t just shape your performance—He transforms your heart.
So with that in mind, I changed the same conversation—but with Jesus responding instead. And what He says… changes everything.
Believer: Jesus… can I ask You something? Is it really so wrong if I just have a drink with some friends? Everyone else seems to be enjoying life, and sometimes I feel like I’m just missing it.
Jesus: You are free. I did not come to place you in chains, but to set you free. But not all things that are permitted are good for you. You must ask: does this bring you closer to Me—or pull you away? (1 Corinthians 10:23)
Believer: What about smoking? Or just relaxing with things that help me feel free—just every now and then?
Jesus: I see the weight you’re trying to lay down. But the peace you’re reaching for will fade. I give peace the world cannot give. What I offer doesn’t come in a bottle or a cloud of smoke—it comes in surrender. (John 14:27)
Believer: I guess sometimes I just want to go out, have fun, stay up all night, be like everyone else. Laugh, live a little, forget about tomorrow. Is that so wrong?
Jesus: The world will always welcome you with open arms. But you are no longer of the world. I called you out of that. (John 15:19) You were made for more than fleeting pleasure. You feel torn because I’ve set eternity in your heart. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
Believer: And what if I go even further—get high, sleep around, lose myself for a night? Just to stop feeling the pressure?
Jesus: You can. I won’t force you to stay. Love is not control. But you know where that road leads. You’ve felt it before. The emptiness after the high, the guilt after the thrill. I don’t say “don’t go” to take your joy. I say it because I am your joy. (Psalm 16:11)
Believer: Then why can’t I have both? Why does it feel like something in me breaks when I try?
Jesus: Because something is breaking. You cannot carry the cross in one hand and the world in the other. No one can serve two masters. (Matthew 6:24) You are trying to belong to both kingdoms. But light has no fellowship with darkness. (2 Corinthians 6:14)
Believer: But it’s just so hard. Everyone else looks like they’re having fun. Why does following You have to feel so lonely sometimes?
Jesus: Because the road to life is narrow. And few find it. (Matthew 7:14) But I walk it with you. I was despised, rejected, misunderstood. I know what it feels like to be alone. But child, you are never truly alone—not with Me. (Hebrews 13:5)
Believer: So what am I supposed to do?
Jesus: Die to yourself—daily. Not because I want you to suffer, but because only in dying can you truly live. (Luke 9:23–24) You say you want freedom. I am freedom. But it only comes when you lay everything else down. Not just the sins, but the secrets, the justifications, the double life. All of it. Give Me your whole heart—not just what’s easy.
Believer: So… I really can’t live for the world and still live for You?
Jesus: No. You can’t. Because when I saved you, I didn’t just forgive your past—I claimed your future. You were bought with a price. (1 Corinthians 6:20) You’re not your own anymore. And that’s not a burden—it’s a gift. The ache in your chest is Me, calling you back.
Believer: But what if I fail again?
Jesus: Then come back again. I am not looking for perfect performance. I am looking for a heart that won’t stay away. (1 John 1:9) My grace is greater than your weakness. My love doesn’t expire when you stumble. But you must choose: the wide road, or the narrow one. The world, or the Kingdom. Temporary comfort, or eternal life. (Romans 6:23)
Believer: It just feels like the cost is so high.
Jesus: It is. But so was the cross. And I paid it for you. So that you could live—truly live. Not just someday in heaven, but now. If you trust Me, follow Me. Leave behind the things that drain you. They are not life. I am.
You know it’s easy to ask what we can do without stopping to ask who we’re becoming in the process. Jesus doesn’t give us a checklist—He gives us a choice. Not between good and bad, but between temporary comfort and eternal purpose. If you’ve been straddling the fence, trying to live for the world and for Christ, maybe it’s time to stop asking what’s allowed… and start asking what draws you closer to Him.
This week, take time to pray honestly. Ask Jesus to search your heart and show you where compromise is costing you intimacy with Him. Then respond—not with excuses, but with surrender. If you’re ready to stop chasing both roads, choose His. It’s narrow, yes—but it leads to life.