Can I be honest

Lord, can I be honest?

It doesn’t feel like You’ve “got this” right now.

I know what You’ve promised.

I’ve read the words, whispered them in the dark, clung to them like a lifeline.

But today—right now—they feel distant.

Like echoes from a place I can’t quite reach.

I know I’m supposed to trust,

to stand firm,

to walk by faith and not by sight.

But Lord, some days, my faith feels like a flickering ember,

and doubt settles into the cracks of my heart like an unwelcome guest.

I hate that it does. I hate that I let it.

But I can’t pretend with You.

You already see it all—the fear, the questions, the ache I can’t put into words.

You see the exhaustion of carrying a weight I don’t know how to put down.

You see how tired I am of painting on a smile,

of saying, “God is good,” when my heart feels hollow,

of hiding my struggles so no one worries,

so no one sees how fragile I feel.

But here, in this moment, I won’t hide.

I won’t dress up my doubt in well-worn clichés.

I won’t pretend that my faith isn’t shaking.

Because You are the God who sees.

The God who knows.

The God who is not afraid of my honesty.

And Lord, I have to tell You—some days,

some deep, aching days,

I wonder if I will be the first person You fail.

If my name will be the one written in history

as the one You abandoned.

But then—like fire in my bones—

comes the unshakable truth:

You cannot change.

You cannot fail.

You do not forget the ones You love.

Even when I cannot feel it,

Your goodness is not erased by my emotions.

Even when the storm rages,

Your promises stand unbroken.

Even when I wrestle with fear,

You are still reigning, still sovereign, still God.

So today, I will choose You.

Not because I feel strong,

but because You are.

Not because I have the answers,

but because You are the answer.

Not because my heart is steady,

but because Yours is unshaken.

I’m just being honest, Lord.

And I know my heart is safe here.