“That the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which perishes though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
— 1 Peter 1:7, NASB1995
I didn’t plan for this season. I didn’t ask for the quiet ache that lingers in the heart when you’re thousands of miles away from a dying loved one. I didn’t ask for the weight of rising expenses, broken appliances, and unchanging income. I didn’t ask for the tears shed in silence after a long workday, or the sense of frustration when physical weariness overwhelms my efforts to steward my body and life well.
But I know this much: God wastes nothing.
Each of these trials—some quiet, some crushing—have become invitations. Invitations not to despair, but to deeper trust. Not to self-reliance, but to surrender. Not to perfection, but to the presence of Christ.
Sometimes I respond with faith. Other times, I forget to bring my cares to Him at all. And yet, He remains faithful.
I’m learning—not always gracefully, not always quickly—that the Christian life is not about ease, but refinement. That following Christ doesn’t remove trials—it reveals their purpose. He uses them to peel away false security, shallow obedience, and performance-driven faith. He uses them to form in me the heart of a true disciple.
And though I’ve failed many times to change habits or respond rightly, He continues to draw me into His Word. There, through the Spirit’s gentle conviction, I see where I’m being shaped—not just in theology, but in character, trust, and eternal hope.
Like those early believers in the Ante-Nicene Church, who loved not their lives even unto death, I am learning that faithfulness doesn’t require applause or ease—it requires endurance. And endurance doesn’t come from strength—it comes from Christ.
So this is not a story of how I overcame. This is the story of how Christ is sustaining me, in the middle of what still feels unfinished. I don’t know how every prayer will be answered, or how every need will be met. But I know who holds the answer. And I know He is good.
If you’re walking through something similar, take heart. We are not alone. Not even in the fire. And the same Jesus who walked with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego still walks with us today.
Lord, in every unknown, every burden, and every trial—teach me to cling to You. Not for relief alone, but for transformation. Let my life testify to Your faithfulness, even when the way is hard. Make me a living sacrifice that reflects the beauty of Christ. Amen.
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