Some days, I wake up already in a battle I didn’t choose. My body feels heavy, my mind feels slow, and the world starts moving before I’ve even figured out how to breathe. It’s like I’m already behind before I begin—behind on joy, behind on peace, behind on who I think I should be by now.
And honestly, some days, faith feels far away.
Not because I’ve walked away, but because everything hurts, and when everything hurts, it’s hard to see clearly. It’s hard to pray. It’s hard to believe the promises when your body breaks its own every day.
So I whisper instead. Not because I don’t believe, but because it’s all I’ve got.
“Jesus… help.”
That’s the whole prayer. No fancy words, no perfect posture—just a tired person whispering a two-word prayer that feels like a lifeline in the dark.
And I think that counts.
Actually, I think that matters more than we know. Because maybe faith isn’t loud. Maybe faith isn’t put-together or polished or perfectly postured. Maybe real faith is messy, shaky, quiet.
Maybe it looks like showing up anyway.
And here’s the truth that’s been holding me lately: when your faith doesn’t feel strong, it’s usually the opposite. Because you’re still showing up. You’re still whispering the prayer. You’re still sitting in the ache and not walking away.
That, my friend, is trust.
Trusting in the One who never leaves, even when you don’t feel Him. Even when everything hurts. That’s not weak faith. That’s bone-deep trust.
Maybe it’s the girl sitting in her car crying before church but still walking in. Maybe it’s the person who hasn’t felt God in months but still opens their Bible every morning. Maybe it’s you—reading this, holding on by a thread and wondering if it still counts.
It does.
You do.
You’re not behind. You’re not less spiritual because you feel weary. You’re not broken beyond use. You’re not weak because it hurts.
God doesn’t need you to be strong. He just wants you to be honest.
And if all you have today is your honesty…bring that. Lay that at His feet like an offering. The tears, the silence, the “I don’t know how to trust right now.” He welcomes it all.
He’s not looking for strength. He’s looking for surrender.
So here’s what I want you to know: You’re still allowed to believe, even when it feels like everything’s falling apart. You’re still invited to hope, even if your hands are shaking. You’re still worthy of love, even if you feel tired, sick, or broken.
Because none of that disqualifies you from God. Not a single bit of it.
If anything, it draws Him closer.
So let yourself be held today.
Even if you don’t feel strong.
Especially then.
Love, Sarah x.
Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.’”— Matthew 17:20
If these words met you where you are, I’m so glad.
I write these posts like diary entries—quiet, raw, and real. If you’d like to support this space, becoming a paid subscriber helps me keep writing. Paid members get access to the Little Sparrow Loved Crew—my private posts, where I share journal reflections, deeper thoughts, videos and quiet truths I don’t post anywhere else.
No pressure. Just love. And if this helped you, maybe pass it on. You never know who needs to be encouraged by this.
This was/is me. I cried during my quiet time this morning. I cried after church this morning. I cried to Him because only He knows the depths of my despair, my defeat, and weariness. Only He knows how I vacilate each day in my faith to be the best I can be but fall short because I am human. I am flesh. I am sinful in thought, deed and just being. Satan snips at my heels constantly and I am weary from fighting him off. I feel so alone yet I know I'm not. He is with me walking every step, even carrying me when I'm too weary to take another step. My burdens are many, heavy and not mine to carry yet I do until I get to the point of surrender and I let them go. I walk away free and unencumbered for a brief moment before I run back and snatch them back up again. SIGH!!! Why, why, why? Thank you for sharing this space with us.
This was what I needed to hear today. Thank you for sharing it with us. I have been weak and tired trying to get through the post surgery phase of my. The pain is difficult and regaining strength is hard. I know that God is with me and will see me through this journey. This too shall pass.