After a night of weakness I wouldn’t wish on anyone, I woke up with nothing left to offer but a whispered “thank you.” Thinking back over the night’s trials, I remember calling, “Father, please help me.” It was all I could do to fight off the unwelcome invader riddling me with pain. As I lay there praying for relief, a phrase passed through my thoughts—quietly, clearly: “Faith… of the Son of God.”
I’ve always believed in God. But this emphasis on a particular word was different. The word of resonated, and in those two letters, I found hope. This wasn’t about how strong my faith was. It was a gentle reminder that I’m not living by my faith. I’m living by His. Somehow, that still, small voice permeated my hurting body and found its way to my weary soul. And I knew what was happening wouldn’t last, and I was not alone in the struggle. His faith carried me through the night. It anchored me when mine was tossed about by pain. His faith is not a concept—it’s a Person. The Person is Jesus Christ. And His faith never wavered.
Galatians 2:20 says it best, though we often rush past the words: “The life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Not faith in the Son of God. Faith of the Son of God. His own faith, gifted to me. Steady, unfailing, present in the night.
When My Faith Fails
There are moments we all reach where faith feels more like fog than flame. We grasp for comfort, for clarity, for a sense of control, and come up empty. I have stood in those places. I have whispered prayers with more desperation than confidence. And I have learned that faith is not about the strength I muster. It’s about the strength that never leaves me.
When we are too weak to hold on, His faith holds us. When our prayers are more groans than words, His voice still intercedes. When we forget how to believe, His belief in the goodness of the Father never fails. That’s the grace of it—we’re never depending on ourselves to stay connected. We are already one with the One whose faith is perfect.
The Gift of Surrender
This truth doesn’t just bring comfort, it invites surrender. To let go of the pressure to “do it right” or to “believe hard enough” and instead rest in the unshakable faithfulness of Christ. This is not passive. It’s trust at its deepest. It means I can be on the floor, literally and spiritually, and still be upheld. It means I don’t have to fake strength or wear the mask of certainty. It means I can live in peace—not because I’m strong, but because He is. There’s no striving in love. There is only receiving.
For Those Who Need to Hear This
This message isn’t just for the sick or the weary. It’s for anyone who’s ever whispered, “I’m not sure I have enough faith for this.” You don’t have to. You don’t need to conjure something bigger or better. You only need to know: His faith is already in you. It’s not waiting for you to earn it. It’s already yours. You are being carried. You are being watched over. You are not walking this path alone.
And if you will entrust your heart to that truth, the faith of the Son of God is enough.
I Believe…
I am not upheld by my belief but by His. I believe Jesus’ faith is alive in me, even when mine feels broken. I believe grace meets me wherever I am and whatever I am going through, and it reminds me that I’m not abandoned. I believe in the gift of surrender, and the peace that comes when I let go of needing to be strong. I believe I am seen, known, and guided—not because I am faithful, but because He is. He is the living faith that keeps me rooted in union, alive in grace. Amen.
