When Faith Feels Fragile

Hey, friends! It’s been a long while, but I wanted to share something with you that I hope will be a blessing to you.

There are seasons of our lives when our faith feels like a fortress—strong, reliable, unmoving. God’s nearness is almost tangible. Prayers flow with ease. Scripture speaks loudly. You know that you know that you know. But then there are other seasons, seasons when faith doesn’t feel like a fortress at all, but a paper-thin veil—fluttering, translucent, barely holding together. Prayers dry up. Scripture feels silent. Your heart wonders where God has gone—or worse, if He was ever truly near at all.

John the Baptist—Jesus’ forerunner, the voice crying out in the wilderness—knew this kind of fragile faith. This is the same man who baptized Jesus, who saw the heavens open, who heard the Father’s voice declare, “This is my Son.” And yet, in Luke 7, sitting in prison and waiting for a death sentence, John sends messengers to Jesus with a surprising question: “Are you the One who is to come, or should we look for another?”

Wait a second. Could it be that the one who baptized the Messiah began to doubt the Messiah? I can picture the scene: a shocked hush falls over Jesus’ followers and the crowd while they wait to hear how He will respond.

But what does Jesus do?

He doesn’t scold. He doesn’t shame. Instead, He answers, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor” (7:22). In John’s disorientation, Jesus reinforces the truth. He’s inviting John to recount the miracles, the wonders, the facts. My paraphrase of this might be, “John, when your feelings are shaken or blurry, recall the concrete experiences. Like the Israelites wandering in the wilderness erected altars of remembrance, go back and revisit the specific things I have done.”

Can you relate to John? Was there a time when you were confident and passionate, personally experiencing answered prayers, breakthrough, and divine provision… but now you’re feeling a little lost in the darkness? Where blind faith once felt so exciting, now that same blindness may feel a little too dark and invisible. Friends, the Lord is not upset at your faith when it’s buffeted by the waves of uncertainty. You just need a reminder. Not necessarily of something new—but of something old and true. That God has been faithful. That His Word stands. That He is not distant from the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). That He is still Emmanuel—God with us.

Fragile faith isn’t failed faith. It’s faith under pressure. It’s a heart still choosing, however weakly, to say, “I believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

So what do we do in these seasons?

1. Stay close, even if it’s quiet.

Don’t run from God when He feels far. That’s often when you most need to lean in. Sit in His presence. Breathe. Sometimes you don’t need to say much—just be with Him.

2. Let Scripture read you.

You may not feel inspired every time you open your Bible, but you’re not reading to feel something—you’re reading to remember something. To be reminded of who He is, and who you are.

3. Anchor yourself in community.

When your faith feels weak, borrow someone else’s. Call a friend. Share your struggle. Ask for prayer. We were never meant to walk this journey alone.

4. Remember your story.

Think back to past seasons of faithfulness. Journal them. Revisit your own testimony. God doesn’t waste your past—He uses it to anchor your present.

5. Take the next small step.

One prayer. One verse. One worship song. One honest conversation. Faith is often found not in giant leaps, but in small, consistent steps toward Jesus.

If this is your season—if your faith feels fragile—I want you to know God isn’t disappointed in you. He isn’t wringing His hands, wondering what went wrong. He’s near. He sees. He stays.

And maybe, just maybe, He’s growing something in the soil of your struggle that could never have grown in the sunshine of certainty.

You are not forgotten. You are not alone.

Keep walking. Keep whispering your prayers. Keep hoping.

Fragile faith is still faith. And God can do beautiful things with it.

Amen and amen,
Josh