Going the Extra Mile

There is something profoundly powerful about going the extra mile.

Recently, I had the privilege of speaking at an event where Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:41 formed the focus of my devotion:

“If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”

As I have reflected on those words, I have found myself thinking about what it really means to go the extra mile—not simply as an act of service, but as an expression of who we are called to be as followers of Jesus.

When Jesus spoke those words, He was addressing people living under Roman occupation. Roman soldiers had the legal right to compel a non-Roman citizen to carry their pack for one mile. It was a reminder of power, privilege and oppression. There was no choice. No negotiation. No appeal.

Yet Jesus responded in a way no one expected.

“Go with them two miles.”

The second mile changed everything.

The first mile could be demanded. The second could only be given.

It transformed an act of obligation into an act of generosity.

The second mile always costs something. It requires the one thing every one of us possesses in equal measure but can never recover once it is given—our time. To go the extra mile is to give a piece of your life to someone else.

And when you do, you communicate something deeply significant.

You tell another person that they possess intrinsic worth.

You tell them they matter.

You remind them that relationships are more important than convenience, that dignity is not something to be earned, and that no one is invisible or forgotten.

Ultimately, you reflect something of the very heart of God.

Because every person you encounter bears His image.

Every person is worth the extra mile.

That is why prison ministry is, by its very nature, an extra-mile ministry.

Every visit begins with a decision to go where many people choose not to go.

You pass through high walls and locked gates. You move through layers of security. You surrender your belongings, wait patiently and submit to searches. Everything about the environment can communicate the same message:

“You don’t belong here.”

And yet, day after day, you choose to go anyway.

When you step beyond those gates, you encounter people who have often been defined entirely by the worst decision they have ever made. You witness fractured families, broken trust and lives that seem beyond repair. The weight of human brokenness is impossible to ignore.

But every now and then, you witness something extraordinary.

You see what happens when God begins transforming a heart.

And when that happens, behaviour is not the deepest change.

Identity begins to change.

Men and women no longer see themselves simply through the lens of their past, but through the grace of Jesus Christ. Relationships begin to heal. A new sense of purpose begins to emerge. Hope becomes imaginable again.

This is what I believe human flourishing looks like through the lens of the Kingdom of God.

Our world often defines flourishing by achievement, influence, comfort or success.

Jesus paints a very different picture.

Where His Kingdom takes root, dignity is restored. Hope is renewed. Reconciliation becomes possible. Lives begin moving toward the purpose for which they were created.

That is flourishing.

That is why what you do matters so deeply.

I think of one man in Burkina Faso who grew up practising animism. While serving a prison sentence, he encountered Jesus through one of our Scripture engagement programs that a volunteer had gone an extra mile to deliver.

What followed was far more than a change in beliefs.

His identity changed.

His heart was transformed.

His life began moving in an entirely new direction.

Stories like his remind me that when we choose to go, we never truly know what God will do with the steps we take.

At its heart, going the extra mile is simply a willingness to see people, to serve people and to recognise their God-given dignity.

It requires us to give something that can never be repaid—our time, our attention and a piece of our lives.

Whether you are serving behind the scenes, visiting someone in prison, leading a National Ministry, listening to a victim share their story or supporting a family affected by incarceration, you are participating in something far bigger than yourself.

You are taking your place in the story God is writing through His Son, Jesus Christ.

It is a story of redemption that produces rehabilitation, reconciliation, restored dignity and hope. A story that bears fruit in every good work and draws people into the life they were created to live.

So, as you begin another day of ministry, I want to encourage you:

Keep going the extra mile.

Keep walking through the gates.

Keep showing up.

Keep seeing the person others overlook.

Keep believing that God can restore what appears beyond repair.

Keep serving even when the results are not immediately visible.

Keep trusting that faithfulness matters.

You may never know what God will do with one smile, one conversation, one visit, one Scripture shared or one simple act of kindness.

You may never fully see the impact of the time you give or the life you touch.

But God does.

And sometimes, the extra mile is exactly where you encounter Him.

Thank you for the way you serve.

Thank you for the courage it takes to enter difficult places.

Thank you for believing that people in prison are more than their crimes, that families are more than their circumstances, that victims are worthy of care and compassion, and that communities are capable of restoration.

Thank you for walking through gates that others avoid, for seeing people the world has stopped seeing.

Thank you for believing that no life is beyond the reach of God’s redeeming grace, for going the extra mile.

Because sometimes the second mile is where transformation begins for us and those whose “pack’ we are carrying and where we discover that Christ has been walking with us all along.