For When It’s Hard to Feel

I sat in the pew while he preached yesterday.

Tears brimmed on my lower lids the entire time. The only reason I wouldn’t let them fall is because I didn’t want my eyes to get all streaky before communion.

You know, when someone might notice the black streaks as I made my way back to my seat.

Stupid pride.

He preached about Jesus riding into Jerusalem on the donkey and how the onlookers spread their cloaks and branches, shouting,

Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

We all know the story…while it was a celebration, the darkest day in history was well on its way.

And the problem was…I knew the story. I’ve heard it a hundred times, more than a hundred.

I keep hoping that this will be the year I feel something.

I’m waiting to feel.

Stupid feelings.

Just about anything can usually make me cry.

I sob buckets at movies.

If I ever argue with T, I’m almost always in tears at some point.

Frustrations make me cry.

Sad makes me cry.

Heck, happy makes me cry, too.

I feel…it’s how He wired me, and I accept that and always make sure I have a tissue.

I usually don’t. πŸ˜‰

But I have a hard time with being able to accept that when it comes to my faith, it’s so hard for me to feel anything.

I get that a relationship with my Father is not about feelings. It’s not about emotions that pour all over the red carpet of ILC. It’s not about tears that stream down my face as I sing about all He’s done for me.

It is, in fact, about knowing Truth and trusting it even when I don’t feel it.

Yes, there have been times when I’ve cried out to God, literally…and many of them.

Yes, there have been days when I’ve heard a sermon preached and it’s moved me to tears.

There have been life-changing days when I’ve witnessed, firsthand, the power of my Father in transforming a life.

But then there are days like today…days like Palm Sunday when the church is gearing up for Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday and everyone around me seems to be so in awe and emotional…and I sit there.

Oh, the tears were brimming, but it wasn’t because I felt.

It was because I didn’t. And I wanted to. So badly.

In a raw moment, I’m going to say something, in hopes that maybe some of you can relate.

I don’t have an amazing conversion story.

What I have are pieces of ugly and unsure, steps that are hesitant and and taken in fear…that my Father has somehow woven together into a becoming-beautiful journey of trust and acceptance and assurance and surrender.

It’s not perfect, and I know what it’s like to fail.

But I do know…That I’m a sinner. That my Jesus died to forgive my sins. That my Father in Heaven loves me. That He has an eternal home for me in heaven. That I should tell the world.

And I believe it with all my heart.

It’s almost a little too simple, but it’s what He wrote for me, as only He can, and it’s what I desperately cling to on mornings like yesterday when the feelings are absent and it’s too easy to let the guilt become shameful.

It’s Holy Week.

And I know I’ll spend a lot of it reflecting, but while I reflect and regardless of what I feel, I know I need to remind myself that it’s not about feelings…

But about knowing the beauty of what came from that dark Friday so many years ago and trusting that He did it for me.

And you.



  1. I feel deeply, too, but in a different way. It’s directed inward so often because there isn’t an outward expression of the inward, it is assumed that I don’t have feelings about much at all. When it comes to faith and life, I’ve found the things that affected me profoundly did not affect me on a certain ‘timeline’. What I’m saying is that some days I don’t ‘feel’ my faith, either. I know it’s there, I have the truth that it exists, and the calm assurance. In a world that values outward show and results, there isn’t always a lot to give. But I know that He is changing me on His own time schedule. Resurrection and new life isn’t just limited to Easter…it is the beauty of Easter that we get to live out all year long. πŸ˜‰

    • Thank you for that, friend. I’m thankful for your wisdom and reminder that it’s on His timeline, not mine. And you are so right…we get to live out the beauty of Easter all year. I needed to read this today. Blessings and hugs!

  2. You and I were meant to be friends…I can relate to this post on so many levels!! You are such a blessing to me!

  3. This is a raw, brave post. Thanks for sharing, friend! May God bless you as you desire him — this week and every week.

  4. I appreciate your candor on this topic. Something many can relate to. My faith is like a shallow puddle compared with the oceanic depth of those who are “blessed” enough to have been stripped of everything but their faith. Yet they claim they have found true joy. The Bible -the physical book and the God-breathed words in it – is my sure foundation, of an ancient time so far removed from me, it can be hard for me to comprehend the depths of its stories and teachings, and connect on an emotional level. Glad you still find the beauty in your faith, even on the days your feelings are on hold. May you continue to seek and find the beauty in the Passion of the week. :)

    • Thank you, friend…I needed these words and reminders tonight. Looking forward to connecting this week; I’ve missed our coffee chats! (((hugs)))

  5. I love your honesty on this post. I’ve certainly experienced being in that same place. I was reminded how, a couple of years ago, I wrote about how it was on a nature walk in the middle of the woods, not in a pew, that my heart blossomed on Palm Sunday.

    And aren’t you thankful for tears, that they provide a release for all you are (or aren’t) feeling?

    • Thank you, Cathy…I need to be reminded over and over that it’s not about feelings or about a particular time or place but about how He works in His time wherever I am. (Why is that such a hard lesson to learn?) And, yes, definitely thankful for those tears…now they need to come out with some good waterproof eyeliner. πŸ˜‰ Wishing you a blessed week, friend! (((hugs)))

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