The Way You Go Is The Way You Return – A Grace Rebuttal

A theological response to “the way you go is the way you return” – exploring mercy, chesed, and why resurrection doesn’t ask for permission.

I heard a phrase recently:

“The way you go is the way you return.”

It sounded polished. Soft. The kind of line you’d hear tucked into a sermon, almost forgettable unless you know its weight.

I knew its weight.

Because I left with nothing but my breath and the mercy of God. And when I came back?

It wasn’t the posture that moved Heaven.
It wasn’t the tone.
It wasn’t even the tears.

It was His mercy.

So when I heard that phrase preached, not once, but positioned as theological foundation, I went still.

That wasn’t the Gospel.
That was performance wrapped in politeness.
It was restoration with a toll gate.

I went deep into the Scriptures.
I returned to what had carried me.

And I wrote a post:

“The way you go is the way you return.”

Last I checked, both in Scripture and on Google, grace doesn’t come with conditions.

When I collapsed at the altar, it wasn’t my posture that moved Heaven. It was His mercy.

I didn’t come back the way I left. I came back resurrected.

This is open to everyone…

Or is Jesus’ blood not enough?

“I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.” — Hosea 6:6

The Gospel According to Performance

When someone says, “You can come back, but do it right,” what they’re really saying is:

Our grace has limits.

That’s not the Gospel. That’s management.
That’s compliance culture wrapped in altar language.

What I heard from the pulpit wasn’t rebellion, but it wasn’t resurrection either. It was:

• Obedience before mercy.
• Allegiance before access.
• Posture over presence.

“Have you been baptised yet?”
“Jesus did it, so why haven’t you?”
“Maybe you missed the boat.”

This is the theology of control, softly spoken.

The Hebrew Fire: חֶסֶד (Chesed)

Let’s talk about Hosea 6:6:

“I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.”

The word used for mercy here is chesed – חֶסֶד.
And that doesn’t mean tolerance.

Chesed is covenant love.
It’s the kind of mercy that doesn’t leave when your posture slips.

It’s not performance.
It’s not shame-based discipleship.
It’s not sacrifice for show.

Chesed is the kind of love that stays.
Unflinching. Fireproof.

You don’t return by earning it.
You return by being held by the Father.

And in my case?

I didn’t come back the way I left. I came back resurrected.

Silence Follows a Flipped Table

I didn’t name a soul.
I didn’t tag a church.
I didn’t quote a timestamp.
And I didn’t make waves, though I could have.

But everyone who needed to see it? Saw it.

The line came from a sermon that went out publicly.
Mine was just a response.
But the moment I hit “Post”, the silence started speaking.

The Gospel doesn’t need to scream to flip a table.
Sometimes it just needs mercy.

And mercy came with Hebrew, blood, and resurrection fire.

15 views on a sermon in 14 hours.
1,600 souls touched by a resurrection post in 8 days.

I didn’t break the silence. I fulfilled it.

YOU DON’T NEED PERMISSION TO COME HOME

This is for anyone who thinks you need to return a certain way:

You don’t.

Jesus didn’t say to the prodigal, “Show me your baptism.”
He ran.
He embraced.
He clothed.
He celebrated.

And the older brother?
He stayed outside, muttering about rules.

Let him.

You’re not returning to a system.
You’re walking into resurrection.

The table is already flipped.
The fire is lit.

And mercy?
Mercy stayed.