My Faith Through Life’s Seasons

When I look back over my life, I wouldn’t describe my faith as a winding road or something that has come and gone. Instead, it has been more like a straight line, with some hills and valleys. Along that line, there have been defining moments that have reshaped, refined, and deepened what I believe and how I live it out.

Even in seasons where life felt uncertain or heavy, my foundation in God remained, my faith remained. But that doesn’t mean it has been untouched by struggle. There have been moments of loss and secondary infertility that made me pause, prayers that seemed unanswered (at least the way I hoped they would be) that left me wondering, and seasons of difficult employment that tested my trust in God’s guidance. There was a season after a few losses when I became consumed with things that didn’t truly matter. I was coping by filling my life with the insignificant. I started a season of sleepwalking through my faith largely unaware of my own spiritual condition for quite some time.

Then, in a service, God met me unexpectedly. I found myself weeping, not out of emotion alone, but out of something deeper. That moment marked the beginning of an awakening. A few months later, I came to a clearer realization that something was not right in the way I was living my Christian life. And once again, God met me.

I surrendered my plans to the Lord, I repented, and He became my everything. The Bible came alive, and I started to really hear the Lord speak to me. From that point on, my life has never been the same.

And I’ve come to understand this: if Jesus is not your everything, your faith can easily become shallow and you can find yourself living a disillusioned, self-focused life. It’s not abundant or full until you surrender.

In the hard moments that followed my awakening, I found myself asking hard questions: Where are You in this? Yet even in the questioning, I never felt like I was walking away from Him. It was more like standing in place, looking at Him differently, trying to understand. I will admit I don’t always understand why He does what He does, but I do accept that He knows what He is doing. He is God. I am not.

Scripture speaks into this tension: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).

A Defining Season

One of the most defining seasons of redefinition came during my time living in Thailand, where my understanding of faith and of blessing was slowly reshaped. But the seeds of that transformation were planted years earlier in Ukraine. I remember witnessing lives marked by material lack, yet overflowing with spiritual richness. They had so little, and yet seemed to carry so much more than I did. In that moment, God began to loosen my grip on a shallow definition of blessing and invited me into something deeper, quieter, and far more enduring.

I had the privilege of hearing stories from people across Southeast Asia, many of whom had endured things I had never experienced. Some had been imprisoned for their faith. Others lived in extreme poverty, faced ongoing hardship, or carried the scars of abuse and exploitation. These were not abstract stories they were lived realities, shared with honesty and courage.

What struck me most was not just their suffering, but their faith within it.

They spoke of God with a depth of trust that challenged my assumptions. Their understanding of blessing looked very different from the one I had grown used to. Where I had often associated blessing with provision, comfort, or opportunity, many of them saw blessing in endurance, in faithfulness, and in the presence of God amid hardship.

Some even viewed the abundance of the West with caution, seeing in it not just blessing, but also the potential for distraction or misplaced priorities. One person told me what Westerners call blessing, they call greed. We live in such comfort in the West that hardship seems unfair for some of us. Hardship is normal living – and God actually uses it to refine us, even though we may bristle every step of the way.

This led me to wrestle with a question that has stayed with me: Is my understanding of blessing shaped more by Scripture, or by culture?

The words of Jesus began to take on new weight: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3). And again, “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36). These verses challenged me to reconsider what I had unconsciously accepted as “good” or “favourable.”

Rough Edges Soften

Earlier in my journey, my faith also had a sharper edge to it due to lack of lived experience. I held strong convictions, but they were often expressed with a kind of intensity that lacked grace. I could be militant in my thinking, quick to judge, and at times self-righteous without fully realizing it. I saw things in more rigid terms, with less room for nuance or difference.

But those redefining moments especially walking alongside people whose lives looked very different from mine began to soften me.

Listening to others’ stories, particularly stories of pain or perseverance, created space for compassion to grow. I began to understand that faith is not about measuring others against my own standards, but about reflecting the heart of Christ. And His heart consistently moved toward people with grace, humility, and love.

Scripture captures this calling clearly: “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). This is no longer just an instruction to me, it is a posture I am continuing to learn to adopt. I desire to walk with people rather than judge them, to listen before speaking and to love without needing to be right.

My faith today feels more grounded, not because I have fewer questions, but because I am more comfortable holding them. It is less about certainty in every detail and more about trust in God’s character.

That straight line of faith continues, but I can see how each defining moment has adjusted its direction slightly bringing it into closer alignment with who God is and what He values.

I believe deeply. I hold to truth.

And through it all, one truth has remained constant: God has been faithful.

Even when I questioned, even when I struggled, even when my perspective needed to change He did not waver. As Scripture reminds us, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

That consistency has been the anchor of my straight-line faith.

And as I continue forward, I do so with a quiet confidence not in my own understanding, but in the One who guides it. Holding onto the promise:

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion” (Philippians 1:6).