The Brick Road Still Holds

Just because we’ve moved on doesn’t mean the work stopped mattering.

Look at this road.

No really — look at it.
It’s easy to miss if you’re rushing past.
But slow down, and you’ll see it: the curve, the craft, the wear and weathering. Brick by brick, someone built this.

Probably decades ago. Maybe longer.
Back when labor meant hands, backs, and blisters — not machines or instant shortcuts.

You can tell the work was real.
You can see how the grass fights to reclaim it.
You can feel how time has pushed it, but not broken it.

And that’s what hit me:
Sometimes we put our heart into something, and then… life moves on.
We forget. We shift focus.
But the work — if it was honest work — it still holds.

It lasts long after our attention drifts.

Maybe it’s a job we left behind.
Maybe it’s a relationship we poured into, or a cause we championed, or a season of sacrifice no one else saw.

Just because we’re no longer watching doesn’t mean it stopped mattering.

This brick road?
It’s worn, cracked, a little overgrown — sure.
But it’s still here. Still serving. Still standing.

And that’s the kind of work I want to be known for.

Build it strong. Build it right.
Even if nobody thanks you.
Even if you never see the full impact.

Because real work — heart work — doesn’t need constant applause.
It just needs to last.

— Jim