01272024 Trial of Faith

Dear Missionary Lady,

Greetings in the name of the Author and Finisher of our faith, the One who keeps us from beginning to end. It’s hard for me to imagine that someone needs this particular message, but since God has placed it on my heart, I have to trust Him that someone does. Because it is so intricately linked with my own story, it’s hard to know how to share enough to relate to others without focusing too much on myself, so I ask God to guide my thoughts and to minister as He sees fit.

Sometimes my writing feels deceptive – not in God’s truth, but in my presentation. I don’t want to give the impression that I am a strong and mature Christian who never struggles, that I have all the words of truth and encouragement and that I cling to them with unwavering tenacity. That is far from the truth. My writing, whenever it expresses valuable and helpful truth, comes from me (through God) at my best moments, and only because in my worst moments I have desperately and repeatedly needed to seek such truth.

I have seen through Bible accounts, through the lives of others, and in my own experience, that there is a special aspect to trials when they become extended or multiplied. That is when otherwise faithful people sometimes flounder. I am finally seeing some significant improvement in my nearly two-and-a-half-year struggle to recover from COVID, but there is still much journey remaining, and the continuing challenges are sometimes daunting, both in my body and in my spirit.

Perhaps more than any other season in my life, this is a trial of faith, and it continues even into the present. If people knew how much I have struggled and sometimes still do, I fear I would lose my testimony and would never again be trusted to minister to others. Except, of course, if people allow for the reality of universal human frailty and as the transforming grace of God stabilizes me. I can imagine something of Paul’s conflict, knowing his tremendous internal battles as shared in Romans 7, yet also realizing that God wanted him to pen so much of the New Testament. We are such unworthy and incapable servants, redeemed and enabled by God to minister in ways that are far beyond our natural capability.

While I don’t excuse or condone my struggle, I have some reassurance in realizing that it is a normal response of a fallible human. I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last to travel through dark waters. God has upheld and rescued others, and He can uphold and rescue me. I hesitate to share details, but I believe my communication will be more effective with some transparency, so here is some of what I mean by a trial of faith. It is not that I want to abandon God, but often it feels like surviving is the best I can do. I’m a believer, and I intend to be, but it is as if I am temporarily floating, treading water, just managing to hang on. I want to simply rest in the knowledge that I have God and let that knowledge be a tether that allows me to drift along without drifting away.

It is hard to pursue spiritual activity. I easily seek meaningless diversions. I’ve gone through extended periods during which I never wanted to go back to church again. Prayer habitually starts with admissions of my struggle and doesn’t always go much further. I frequently find myself not even wanting to read the Bible. When I do, truths that I know should be deeply meaningful seem to bounce right off my heart, and often it doesn’t even seem possible to understand the Bible. I might have academic explanations, but my sense of conviction and certainty is weak. Sadly, in thinking of church, the Bible, and so forth, I have sometimes used words like stupid, dry, empty, and don’t care. In summary, something inside me is shaken, bruised, and wobbly.

I realize that my physical challenges create fatigue, stress, and overload, but regardless of whether the root of my struggle is physical, spiritual, or a combination, the consequence is the same: danger, danger, danger. I have been keenly aware that it would be so much easier to slide away than to stand firm. That last statement introduces the message God wants me to share, which is the absolute necessity of fighting.

The first aspect of fighting is that I can’t. The battle and the enemy are too strong for me but not too strong for God. I have to trust God to keep me, just as He has saved me (Phil. 1:6). If it were up to me to keep myself, I can’t do it, but God can, and there is reassurance in knowing I can trust Him. Greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world.

The second aspect of fighting is simply to keep doing the right thing. If I skip church once because it is easier, that one poor decision could be the beginning of disaster and of never coming back. I can’t stop reading the Bible or praying or meditating. The risk and the cost are too great. I can’t give in to the feeling that spiritual things don’t matter or that God’s words are not true. I have to realize that right now it only feels like they’re not true, but in actuality they are true. I just need to keep doing the right thing, putting one foot in front of the other, until the time that what IS true starts to feel true again. Because it is, and it will.

Thankfully, the spiritual struggles listed above are not constant, and the reason is that the grace and mercy of God are upholding me. I want to close with four verses that have come to mind as I ponder the spiritual struggle. These truths explain the times of victory.

“Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). I have to deliberately and repeatedly turn back to God’s truth. That’s not something I do because I am especially spiritual. Rather, it’s how I survive. Every day and especially every night.

“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds” (II Corinthians 10:4). God gives supernatural ability to control the wrong thoughts that seem invincible.

“So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” (Romans 10:17). If my faith is weak, where does faith come from? This is true for Christians also. As I was challenged by this verse, I embraced a plan to read the Bible through. My faith was immediately bolstered, as I realized I believe the creation and the flood, which are some of the hardest things for people to believe.

“He restoreth my soul” (Psalm 23:3). He does. Time after blessed time. God ministers to me and brings me back from the depths. I think of I Peter 5:10, that in the deliverance, God will “perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle.” These divine responses answer to my current weaknesses; they are what God does for people who are shaken, bruised, and wobbly.

If God intended this message for you, I say to you what I say to myself: DO NOT GIVE UP! It’s not wrong to be in the battle, but you have to fight, and keep fighting even if you fall. Don’t focus on the doubts, but focus on truth. Remember that faith is trusting when we don’t understand. The enemy is strong, but God is stronger. The One who saved you will also keep you. The victory belongs to God.

Love in Christ,

Peggy Holt

member at Open Door Baptist Church in Lebanon, PA