Still Showing Up: When Trust Feels Hard

"Some days, faith feels like fire. Other days, it feels like fog. But even in the fog, I'm still walking with you."

I'm going to be honest.

Sometimes I say I trust God... but then I question everything. I know I can't be the only one.

I also know that's not something we're supposed to say––especially not on a faith blog. But it's the truth. Some days I believe with my whole heart, and other days I'm scared out of my mind, questioning everything He's ever said. And still...

I keep showing up.

That's the part that gets me.

I don't fully trust––but I can't seem to walk away either. There's something in me that keeps hoping, praying, longing.

Even when it hurts.

Even when I whisper, God, take me now because this ache is too much.

And that's the uncomfortable truth:

Sometimes God allows us to feel uncomfortable.

To sit in the tension between "I believe" and "Help my unbelief."

Not because He's distant or cruel, but because He's doing something deeper––something that comfort could never produce.

Which lead me to (Mark 9:24) "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

Discomfort Has a Purpose

God's not interested in our performance––He's interested in our transformation.

Discomfort stretches us. It exposes the cracks in our trust, our idols, our control. It forces us to wrestle with questions we'd rather avoid:

• Why do I feel like I'm barely breathing in a season where everyone else seems to be thriving?

• Why does God seem silent when I'm begging Him to speak?

• Why am I still holding onto faith when I'm not sure it's working?

I'm not here to give you cliche answers. I'm here to sit with you in the tension. Because I'm living in it too. Which leads me to, (James 1:2-3) "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." His word is a reminder that pain can be a teacher, not just a punishment.

I'm Not Perfect–But I'll Keep Asking

I'm not trying to pretend like I have it all figured out. I will keep seeking You father. I'll keep bringing my heart to the altar. I'll keep asking the hard questions like:

• How do I trust a God I can't always feel?

• How do I wait when my soul is tired of waiting?

• How do I listen for His voice above the noise of my fear?

• How do I stay when everything in me wants to run?

Here's what I'm learning––slowly, painfully, honestly:

Trust isn't always loud.

Sometimes it looks like getting out of bed when you'd rather hide.

Sometimes it sounds like whispered prayers through tears.

Sometimes it's just not giving up, even when you don't feel "spiritual" at all.

Which leads me to,"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight" (Proverbs 3:5-6). And especially to answer the question: "How do I listen for His voice above the noise of my fear?"––"Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10).

God knows, I'm scared. But I'm Still Here.

I've prayed some wild, raw prayers lately. Ones that don't sound like the one's you hear on Sunday mornings.

Like:

God, I'm scared and I don't know how to trust You. Help me see things through Your eyes, because mines are tired and blurry and filled with fear. Help me rest in You when my heart won't stop racing. Help me stop clinging to things and people You're trying to free me from. Help me breathe.

Maybe that's what real faith looks like––for me.

Not picture-perfect.

Not "blessed and highly favored."

But shaky, weepy, clumsy faith that still reaches for Him in the dark.

He said, "Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them to your foreheads" (Deuteronomy 11:18). Among other scriptures like Psalm 34:18, Matthew 11:28 and Psalm 23:4.

For You, If You're There Too

If you're reading this and you feel like you're drowning in the wait, in the fear, in the questions––you're not alone.

I don't have a formula, but I do have this truth:

God sees you. He's not afraid of your pain, your doubts, or your silence.

He doesn't need you to be okay for Him to stay.

He just wants your heart––messy, fragile, trembling, whole...however it is right now. I leave you with His word: "The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in His love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing" (Zephaniah 3:17).