28/10/2025
Dear God, when my faith feels empty, fill me with endurance instead.
Because sometimes, Lord, I don’t have the strength to believe like I used to. The prayers that once flowed easily now feel stuck in my throat. The words “I trust You” sound hollow when my heart feels numb. I want to have faith, but there are days when I just… don’t. I don’t feel inspired, I don’t feel brave, I don’t feel certain. I just feel tired.
So please, God, in the seasons when my faith runs dry, give me endurance. When belief feels far away, let me simply keep breathing, keep walking, keep showing up. Let endurance be my prayer when words fail me. Let perseverance be my worship when I can’t feel the spark of faith.
Because endurance is faith in motion — quiet, steady, imperfect faith that refuses to quit. It’s not about feeling full of hope, but about choosing to take one more step even when I can’t see where it leads. It’s holding onto You, even if all I can hold is the edge of Your robe. It’s saying, “I don’t understand, but I’m still here.”
God, when I can’t lift my hands in praise, let me at least lift my eyes toward You. When I can’t speak eloquent prayers, let my sighs and my tears count as prayers too. When I can’t feel Your presence, remind me that You are still near — not because I sense You, but because You promised You would be.
Fill me, not with perfect certainty, but with quiet endurance — the kind that sits through the silence, waits through the doubt, and still refuses to walk away. The kind that trusts You’re still listening, even when I can’t hear You speaking.
Remind me that faith isn’t always fire — sometimes it’s just a flicker that survives the wind. Sometimes it’s not shouting “I believe!” but whispering “I’m trying.” And that’s enough for You, isn’t it, God? You never demanded perfection — only persistence. Only the willingness to stay.
So when my faith feels empty, fill me with endurance instead — endurance to wait for the light when I’m surrounded by dark; endurance to keep praying when it feels like no one’s listening; endurance to believe that even in this emptiness, You’re still at work.
Teach me that this dry place doesn’t mean You’ve left me — it means You’re deepening me. That endurance is building something stronger than emotion — it’s building trust. That maybe what feels like distance is actually an invitation to lean, not on feelings, but on truth.
Dear God, don’t let my emptiness make me quit. Let it make me cling tighter. Let it make me reach further. Let it make me find You, not in fireworks, but in faithfulness.
So when my faith feels empty, pour Your quiet strength into me. Let me keep moving, keep believing, keep waiting — until faith returns, and I can once again feel what I already know: that You were with me the whole time.
Amen.
