The Narrow Road Isn’t Always Easy, But It’s Worth It!

Life gives us two roads. One’s wide, smooth, and packed with folks taking the easy way. The other’s narrow, winding, and looks like it was made for folks with good boots and a little backbone. Jesus said in Matthew 7:13-14 that most folks pick the wide road because it’s easier. But easier ain’t always better.

See, the wide road is full of shortcuts, quick fixes, and people telling you to do whatever feels good. It promises happiness but delivers heartache. The narrow road? It’s tougher. It asks you to trust, to stay faithful, to love when it’s hard, and to walk by faith, not by sight. But at the end of that road is life—the real, abundant, never-ending kind.

Now, you can take the easy road and follow the crowd, or you can take the road less traveled and follow Jesus. One leads to destruction, the other to life. And let me tell you, when you get to the end of that narrow road, every hard step will have been worth it. So, lace up your boots, lean on the Lord, and keep walking. The best is yet to come.

Ah, the Liga Undercrown 10—a symphony rolled in leaf, a song sung in smoke. If Walt Whitman himself could capture the rugged, unrefined beauty of America, then surely this cigar is his poetic counterpart. It is bold, it is vast, it is unapologetically alive. 

The wrapper is dark, as if kissed by the sun and hardened by time, a testament to labor and love. I held it in my hand, felt the texture—rough yet inviting—like the calloused palm of a working man. I could almost hear Whitman whisper, “I sing the body electric,” for this stick hums with power even before the flame meets its foot.

The first draw—rich, full, and complex. The earthiness of soil well-tended, the sweetness of molasses whispering from a bygone age, and the spice, oh the spice! It dances on the tongue, a waltz of pepper and cocoa, bold and unabashed. It’s a declaration of independence in every puff. It’s the kind of cigar that makes you want to lean against a tree, with a big old grin on your face while you just take the time to appreciate the simplicity and depth of it all. 

This is a cigar for storytellers and dreamers, for those who take the scenic route and relish the journey.

By the halfway point, the flavor deepens. Notes of leather and espresso weave through the smoke like old tales told by firelight. It is smooth yet daring, bold yet balanced.  Life is just somehow better with a good cigar and good company.

The finish is long and lingering, like the last note of a blues song that hangs in the humid Southern air. It doesn’t just end—it resonates. 

This isn’t just a cigar; it’s an experience, a reminder that some things are meant to be savored slowly. Liga Undercrown 10 is a celebration—a testament to craft, tradition, and the simple, complex joy of living.

So light one up, sit back, and listen to the poetry of smoke and time. As Whitman would say, “I am large, I contain multitudes,” and so does this cigar.

-MJHarvell

MJHarvell.commjharvell@gmail.com

mjharvell@gmail.com

Galatians 5:14 says, “For the whole law can be summed up in this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Now, that sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? But if you’ve ever had a neighbor who mows his yard at 6 a.m. on Saturday or lets his dog treat your yard like the city park, you know loving your neighbor ain’t always easy.

Lewis Grizzard once said, “The only difference between a yard sale and a trash pickup is how close to the road the stuff is.” And some folks’ lives look a lot like a yard sale—messy, scattered, maybe even a little broken. But that’s exactly why this verse matters.

Loving your neighbor doesn’t mean you have to be best friends or agree on everything. It just means you see them as God sees them—flawed, but worthy of grace. It means choosing kindness over criticism, patience over pettiness, and forgiveness over grudges.

Loving your neighbor is a way of loving God. It’s an act of worship. It’s seeing beyond the rough edges to the soul God created. It’s realizing that sometimes, the hardest people to love are the ones who need it the most.

So today, find a way to love your neighbor—yes, even the one who mows too early. It might just be the loudest sermon you’ll ever preach without saying a word.