A few years ago, a ship was caught in a violent storm at sea. Waves crashed over the sides, the wind howled, and the crew fought just to stay afloat. Passengers were panicking—some crying, others praying—convinced they weren’t going to make it. But in the middle of all that chaos… there was one little boy. He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t crying. He just sat there—completely calm. Someone finally asked him, “Why aren’t you afraid? Don’t you see what’s happening?” The boy looked at them and said, “My dad is the captain… and he’s not worried.”
The truth is, every one of us will face storms—moments when life feels out of control, when fear creeps in, and when we don’t understand what God is doing. The real question isn’t if storms will come. The question is: Will we have faith when they do?
Peter faced this exact moment when his faith was tested (Matthew 14:22–33). In the middle of raging water, Jesus called him out, and Peter stepped onto the water. But when he shifted his focus to the storm, he began to sink. Faith doesn’t mean having no fear— it means stepping out despite fear.
Most people don’t abandon their faith all at once. It usually happens slowly— when discouragement builds, prayers seem unanswered, and doing the right thing feels unnoticed. So what keeps a Christian faithful when life gets cloudy? The storm reveals where your focus is.
Paul gives us a powerful example of endurance. In Acts 27, he was shipwrecked, surrounded by people who had lost hope. But Paul stayed grounded in faith.
Galatians 6:9 reminds us: “Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” Even the faithful get tired. Doing the right thing can feel unnoticed or unrewarded—but God sees it. “In due season” means in His timing—not ours.
And God has never failed to come through. The problem usually isn’t that we don’t know what’s right— it’s that we grow impatient or tired of doing it.
Hebrews 12:1–2 gives us two key ideas: “Run with endurance” — The Christian life isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon. Trying to rely on your own strength leads to burnout.
“Looking to Jesus” —
Endurance comes from focusing on Christ, not circumstances. When we rely on ourselves, we run out of strength. But God never runs out. Mark 4:35–41 shows another storm. Jesus was in the boat, asleep, while the disciples panicked. They woke Him in fear, and He responded: “Why are you so afraid? How is it that you have no faith?”
The storm didn’t mean God wasn’t with them— it meant they were focused on the what instead of the who. Because when the who is God, the what doesn’t matter. Storms don’t mean God is absent. True faith is trusting Him—even when He seems silent.
When storms feel overwhelming, ask yourself three questions:
1. Am I praying like I used to?
Am I using the connection I have with the Father, or trying to handle everything alone?
2. Am I serving fully?
Am I allowing God to use the gifts He’s given me—or taking them for granted?
3. Am I pursuing holiness with urgency?
Am I living like my faith truly matters?
Because most of the time, faith doesn’t fail in a dramatic moment—
it fades through quiet neglect.
But we can continue with hope. 1 Corinthians 15:58 reminds us that our labor is not in vain. God sees quiet faithfulness. He sees your unseen sacrifices. He sees when you keep going, even when you’re tired. And He gives strength to those who keep their eyes on Him. The Christian life isn’t about never getting tired— it’s about refusing to quit.
(We’re grateful to Eli for a great, heartfelt lesson on staying faithful even in our storms.)
The Preacher Pollard Blog 