11/09/2025
I get it, how people can struggle with having a relationship with Christ. I was once in that place too, and I can’t take it against anyone. Especially when they don’t have the education, information, resources, or even access to know Him better. It makes sense that faith can feel far away or even irrelevant.
But what saddens me most is when people do have these things in one way or another, when the opportunity is right there in front of them, yet they choose otherwise. I don’t say this in judgment, but in sorrow, because I know how easy it is to get caught up in the busyness of life.
It doesn’t always look like rebellion, sometimes it’s just distraction. We get swept away by the everyday tasks and demands of the world. The bills that never stop coming. The children who cry out for attention. The deadlines and expectations at work. The endless scrolling just to numb the mind for a moment. The weight of stress pressing down day after day. The feeling of being “too goody-goody” or of seeming fake in the eyes of others. The pressure of not fitting into the mold or image we want to portray to our circle, colleagues or community. These things pile up, and before we know it, we stop noticing the deeper hunger in our souls.
And sometimes I hear people say things like, “Oh, I had my church girl era” or “That was my church boy phase.” I get it, it’s an easy way of describing a time when they felt closer to God, or more involved in church life. And honestly, life does change. Responsibilities, seasons, and even personal struggles can shift the way faith looks on the outside.
But if we think about it, faith was never meant to just be an “era.” It’s not like a stage we pass through and leave behind, but something much deeper, something that quietly stays with us, even when we’re not as active or expressive about it. Sometimes we can even try to ignore it or silence it in our minds, convincing ourselves that it was just a past season. Sometimes it even feels easier to step away. You feel unburdened by not having to wrestle with the truth or live it out. It’s more comfortable to remain where life feels familiar. But the fact remains: God is still there. Christ’s presence doesn’t fade simply because our attention does.
It may seem like freedom to put faith aside, but over time that choice can leave us carrying a different kind of heaviness, the weight of emptiness, of unanswered longings, of searching for meaning in things that never fully satisfy.
Our relationship with Him is less about being in a “phase” and more about being on a journey. Sometimes that journey feels strong and vibrant, sometimes it feels quiet or hidden, but it’s still real. And the beauty of it is that even when we set it aside, He never sets us aside.
Because at the end of it all, when the house grows quiet, when the work is done (or sometimes undone), when the noise dies down, there is something more. Something beyond the temporary victories and struggles. Something everlasting.
And that “more” is found in Christ. The One who sees past our busyness, past our distractions, and past the fronts we put up to cope. The One who calls us not to ignore life’s responsibilities, but to see them in light of eternity. He reminds us that the bills don’t get the final word, nor does the stress, nor even the burdens we carry each day. Because at the end of it all, only Christ remains, and in Him, our restless hearts finally return to their true home. As C.S. Lewis once said, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.
