Why should I keep following God when he isn’t answering my prayers?
The unspoken question haunted me. I wished I didn’t feel this way. I told myself I should just keep trusting. For all my trying, though, the uncertainty continued. And with it, accusations against God’s character chipped away at my faith.
God doesn’t really care about you.
He’ll never answer your prayers.
He probably isn’t trustworthy.
With gentleness and grace, God drew near, reminding me he already knew my thoughts. He invited me to bring them into the open. Voice the feelings. Verbalize the doubts. Lay bare my soul before the One who sees me as I am and loves me.
So, I did.
As I poured out my disillusionment and admitted what my head was saying about his heart, I found myself on holy ground. He met me there in a deeply personal way. Rather than bypassing my pain or scolding my lack of faith, he received my questions. With his still, small voice, he asked me a question in return, the same question he’d asked Peter in John 6:67, “Do you want to walk away?”
As I pondered his question, I found myself answering as Peter did, “Where would I go? You have the words of life” (v 68). I remembered the history we’ve shared — how he delivered me from a food addiction as a teenager, how he healed my broken heart as a young adult. I’d tasted of his goodness. I’d experienced his grace. He was as real to me as the people in my own family.
No, I didn’t want to walk away. Despite the pain in my soul, even though he had yet to answer my prayers, he was still the same God. Still loving. Still powerful. Still for me and worthy of my trust.
I left that encounter a different person, not because my circumstances had changed or because he’d promised me they would. On the contrary, he gave me himself. He let me experience his open-hearted welcome, his understanding, and his soul-mending grace.
When our faith is slipping, God offers to be our firm foundation (Isaiah 33:6). He stands ready with open arms to receive us in our brokenness, eager to welcome us home (Luke 15:20). He’ll never reject those who come to him (John 6:37).
If you find yourself in a similar spot, I invite you to make space to pour out your heart before God.
Does faith deconstruction have a place in the Church? A quick Google search reveals a variety of opinions on the subject, with articles ranging from harsh criticism to strong praise.
What is faith deconstruction? Where did the concept come from and how can we be sure we’re talking about the same thing?
What Is Faith Deconstruction?
Defining deconstruction is tricky because there’s no agreed upon definition. The term first appeared in the fields of secular literature and philosophy. Britannica describes deconstruction as the process in which modern readers dissect older works to examine the language and logic, often leading to a reinterpretation of the pieces in question. In this context, truth is considered relative, merely an expression of the writer’s experience and understanding.
When viewing faith deconstruction through this lens, many Christians are concerned. If we deconstruct the Bible based on the assumption that it was written by fallible humans and not through divine inspiration, we lose the foundation of our faith. The Creeds of Christianity are rooted in the belief that Scripture is divine truth. For two millennia, Christians have looked to the Bible as our authority for faith and practice. Based on this understanding of deconstruction, many believers equate it with deconversion.
Another line of thought, however, views the process in architectural terms. Grace Ruiter explains it this way, “If you think of Christian faith as a home, pursuing tough questions about your faith is a bit like tearing away the carpeting and knocking out the drywall to see the bones that lie beneath. It pulls apart your beliefs to reveal what they’re made of and what holds them together.” In this context, other Christians see faith deconstruction as a positive endeavor.
For some, this type of deconstruction may look like remodeling a single room. For others, it may resemble the complete renovation of an entire structure. In both cases, though, deconstruction can honor the value of faith as people invest time and energy to see it restored.
Because the term can be used in many different contexts, it’s wise to begin our discussion of faith deconstruction by agreeing on how we will use the term.
My Experience with Faith Deconstruction
I first heard the term faith deconstruction in the architectural context. At the time, I was several years into my own spiritual renovation. I didn’t have a word for my experience. I just knew my faith needed a complete overhaul. A series of life-changing events caused me to question everything I’d believed and practiced for decades. I didn’t want to abandon faith, but I knew I couldn’t live in the faith structure I’d built without full reconstruction.
Barnabus Piper’s definition put words to my experience: “The word ‘deconstruction’ implies intentional process, a disassembling of something in order to examine its parts. It is different than ‘destruction’ or ‘dissolving’ … Actual deconstruction allows for something to be examined and reassembled or remodeled (hopefully better and stronger.)”
When my faith crumbled, this is exactly what God led me to do — to systematically evaluate my beliefs using Scripture as my guide. I slowly worked my way through the Bible, primarily looking for who God is and who he says we are as his children. Along the way, I studied other theological and practical faith topics. I learned about Biblical culture using study tools. I compared various Bible passages with each other. I considered commentaries and articles written by Bible scholars across denominations.
For me, deconstruction was a time of deep healing and spiritual renewal. Ultimately, it made space for God to rebuild a stronger faith structure.
When Is Faith Deconstruction a Good Thing?
1. When It Leads Us Toward Christ
Deconstructing can be very painful. Most who set out to deconstruct don’t decide to do it on a whim. Contrary to a popular line of thought, many Christians who chose this process are not looking for license to sin or an excuse to abandon faith.
Most begin deconstruction from a place of deep pain. Some of have been hurt, abused, or manipulated by people in the church or by harmful church systems. Others have experienced life situations which simply don’t fit within their theological framework. Still others wrestle with questions or doubts they feel unable to voice within their faith circles.
Faith deconstruction is a good thing when it helps people encounter Christ. Jesus welcomes those who are hurting. He’s not afraid of doubts or “unspiritual” questions. He loves to reveal his heart and he longs to heal the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).
2. When It Strips Away What’s Rotten and Unimportant
In my city, our downtown district recently gained a beautiful new theater. Actually, it’s a historic theater that lay in disrepair until it was meticulously restored. Restorationists combed through the building, removing what was rotten and salvaging, cleaning, and polishing all that was worth saving. The result is a stunning performing arts theater that speaks of the glories of Art Deco design.
Faith deconstruction is a good thing when it leads to a similar renewal. God desires to restore as he strips away what’s rotten, tears down the extra trappings that don’t express his heart, and rebuilds faith as he intended — life-giving and soul-mending through his Spirit (Luke 10:41-42).
3. When It Corrects Misunderstandings about God’s Heart
As I began my deconstruction, I was surprised to sense God’s favor and acceptance. My faith was in pieces. My spiritual disciplines were mere shadows of what they’d once been. I was embarrassed to admit I didn’t know what I believed.
Yet throughout that season, I never felt condemnation from God, only grace-filled welcome. I sensed his patience as I wrestled with doubts, his compassion as I worked through my pain, and his hope as he began to reconstruct my faith.
He dazzled my weary soul, and I realized I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. Though I’d been a Christian for decades, my view of God needed renovation. He beckoned me into Scripture to discover his heart and he healed mine along the way.
Faith deconstruction is a good thing when it causes us to search for God and understand who he says he is (Jeremiah 9:24).
4. When It Moves Us into the Middle Spaces of Faith
The longer I walk with God, the more I realize how small the black and white spaces of faith really are. To be sure, God defines right and wrong in his Word. Truth is not relative. But there are far more gray areas than I used to believe.
In needing decisive answers for every theological question, we can forget that other Spirit-indwelt, Bible-loving Christians hold different perspectives. Deconstruction gives space to step into the middle. Into the freedom of not having an answer for everything. Into the tension of holding paradox gently.
Jewish rabbis speak of a concept called thinking with both hands. Writing about apparent contradictions in the Bible, Lois Tverberg points out that “The rabbis simply embrace the two ideas in tension with each other rather than needing to seek resolution. By doing so, they are actually being true to the text by not ignoring passages that don’t fit their theology. They see that God alone can understand some things.”
Deconstruction is a good thing when it leads us to walk with humility and curiosity in the middle spaces of faith (Colossians 3:12, Romans 14).
5. When It Cultivates Empathy and Compassion
Until my faith fell apart, I didn’t understand the pain of a shattered life. I was quick to offer platitudes and call Christians to just be stronger. Just try harder. Just be more disciplined.
Deconstruction was God’s gift to me. Through it, and through the people who walked it with me, he began changing my self-righteous heart. He cultivated empathy and compassion in my soul. He taught me the value of listening with humility, of just being present, of loving people right where they’re at. He showed me the power of a caring community in helping people walk toward wholeness.
Deconstruction is a good thing when it softens our hearts with the compassion of Christ (Matthew 14:14).
6. When It Fosters Harmony among Christians
Differences in belief can drive deep rifts between brothers and sisters in the family of God. It’s easy to think our way of viewing nonessential issues is the only right way. We forget kindness and humility as we discuss issues of faith.
God wants us to know what we believe — to study his Word, to learn from his Spirit, to be “fully convinced in our own minds” (2 Timothy 2:15, 1 Corinthians 2:13-16, Romans 14:5). But what distinguishes us as his followers, he says, is our love for one another, not our theology (John 13:35).
Deconstruction is a good thing when it leads to unity without uniformity. Faith deepens as we celebrate what we hold in common with other believers. Harmony grows as we seek to understand why others believe as they do. Humility takes root as we learn to embrace the limitations of our own understanding.
4 Practical Tips for Walking Through Deconstruction
1. Drop Anchor
Deconstruction can be very disorienting. To use a second analogy, it can feel like drifting aimlessly in a boat with no land in sight. It’s helpful to anchor yourself during this time.
Because holding onto historical Christianity was important to me, the Bible and the Creeds were my main anchors through deconstruction. I learned to apply responsible Bible study methods so I could understand Scripture in context — with itself and with the culture in which it was written. I also evaluated my beliefs in light of what the Church has taught since its inception, considering the teachings of various denominations as I studied.
2. Look for God
God invites us to walk through deconstruction with him. Far more than a mental exercise, this process can be a time of healing and renewal as we learn from his heart and grow in relationship with him.
The main practice which guided my deconstruction was a search for God through his Word. I chose a read-through-the-Bible plan that let me study at my own pace, and then I simply looked for God, jotting down everything the Bible declared or described about his heart. The journey took me seven years and five journals, and oh, how my heart changed along the way!
3. Be Gentle with Yourself
There’s no timetable for deconstruction. God doesn’t demand that we hurry up and fix our faith so we can get back to work. On the contrary, our gentle and humble Savior desires to rebuild our faith as we engage with him — bringing him our questions, entrusting him with our pain, and learning to live relationally with his Spirit.
4. Find Healthy Community
For those who’ve been hurt in Christian circles, trusting other believers can feel like an impossible goal. Yet God intends faith to be lived out relationally. He knows the importance of being loved and received by fellow humans and he often uses other Christians as his ministers of healing.
Ask God to lead you to a safe community of believers and to teach you what indications of trustworthiness look like. This process will be different for different people. It may not always be within the walls of a church building. It may take more time than you think it should. It may even require talking with a therapist who understands spiritual trauma or joining a cohort with others who are seeking to rebuild their faith.
Be patient with yourself in this process. Don’t rush into new commitments or force yourself to engage in ways that trigger you. Simply allow your heart to be open to God as he leads you into spaces where you can heal.
Faith deconstruction has an important place in the Church. Whether you are deconstructing or walking through it with a loved one, may God work deeply within you to build a strong and flourishing faith.
This article originally appeared on Bible Study Tools, 03/28/2024:
He’s never been hunting a day in his life, but he dreams that someday he will go. Recently, he told his daddy he wishes they could go moose hunting in Alaska. (I mean, why not start big?)
We’re city people so when my boy wears his camo, it’s more for fashion than functionality. He loves the style, and I love him for it. For many people, though, camouflage has very practical purposes, providing the element of disguise and preventing the person from being seen.
As I type these words, we’re several weeks into a statewide lockdown due to the spread of the coronavirus. My husband has been off work for the past three weeks. And as a family, we’re each dealing with various emotions and grieving significant disappointments.
For us, this is a time of weakness.
We can’t predict what tomorrow holds. Any semblance of control has been stripped away. We trust that God will give us our daily bread (Matthew 6:11), but if I’m being honest, I like the idea of monthly bread better. I prefer a stocked pantry and a sufficient bank account.
I don’t like this emotional roller coaster of the what-ifs that so often invade my mind. Yet repeatedly during these days, God impresses on my heart that it’s good to be in need.
These are camouflaged blessings, these weaknesses which remind us we need God.
Paul understood this reality when he declared, [God] said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NLT).
Uncertain days are rich with opportunities for God to show up. A life outside our control reminds us of the good God who’s always in control. Let’s embrace the eternity hidden in these days and point our kids to the God who still works miracles.
Here are some practical tips:
• Pray for awareness
Several months ago, before the Coronavirus became a pandemic, I asked our kids how they’ve seen God answer prayer. Pondering the silence that met my question, I realized how infrequently we pray about specific needs. We pray generally for missionaries and for salvation for the lost. But when we need something, we often look for ways to meet it ourselves. I began asking God to make us aware of our needs so we can see Him working as our provider.
Prayerfully take inventory of your needs—physical, emotional, and spiritual. Make a list or write down each item individually on index cards.
• Talk to God about each need
Using that list or those index cards, pray as a family about each item. Ask for His perspective and for the Holy Spirit’s guidance as you pray.
• Anticipate His provision
Remind yourself of His promises. Here are a few of my favorites:
“And my God shall meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19, NIV.)
“…Your Father already knows your needs. Seek the kingdom of God above all else, and He will give you everything you need.” (Luke 12:30-31, NLT).
“You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion…” (2 Corinthians 9:11, NIV).
Write down your favorite verses and display them around the house for encouragement. Choose to worship Him as you wait—singing your favorite praise songs, thanking Him for the blessings He’s already given, remembering what you know to be true of Him.• Reach out to others in need
There’s great joy in serving other people as a family, even when we have our own needs. Ask God to point out ways He wants to use you to invest in the lives of others. Pray for those needs and serve however in whatever ways He leads.
Our greatest needs are often camouflaged blessings, setting the stage for God to work powerfully on our behalf. Let’s seize these opportunities to grow closer to Him as a family. Let’s remind ourselves of His trustworthiness and walk by faith in these uncertain times.
Two weeks ago, our littlest learned to ride her bike.
She’d been on bicycle-riding strike for several months, ever since her daddy took her training wheels off. He knew she was ready and hoped a gentle push would help her learn to ride on her own. For a while, she wasn’t having it. Until two weeks ago, when she finally decided to give it a try.
And she got it.
She was so ready. On Monday she rode several feet without help. On Tuesday she learned to turn the bike around in one smooth-ish motion. On Wednesday she perfected starting and stopping. And by the weekend, she was riding like a pro.
As I watched my husband coach her on bike-riding safety, one of his comments struck a chord in my heart. “Don’t look at the building you’re trying to avoid, or you’ll run into it. Keep your eyes on where you’re going.”
I needed that advice.
Because right now, I’m awfully tempted to stare at the madness surrounding us. I literally had to talk myself out of panicking during a recent trip to the grocery store. All those empty shelves. All those scurrying people. The what-if’s pressed in and with them, the fear.
I’ve never experienced uncertainty to this level before.
There’s nothing like a worldwide pandemic to make me realize how much I worship comfort and normality. To help me see that my soul’s peace is tangled up in predictable circumstances and a sense of being in control.
As the country started shutting down, I grabbed my journal and began processing my roller coaster emotions with God. After I poured out my heart to Him, He led me to Hebrews 12:1-3:
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (emphasis mine).
In these unstable times, God is calling His beloved ones to fix our attention on Jesus.
In the Bible’s original Greek, fixing one’s eyes means
“To turn the eyes away from other things and fix them on something.”
I don’t know about you, but my feelings have run the gamut over the past two weeks. I’ve been confused, afraid, and overwhelmed. I’ve felt happy to stay at home and thrilled with the extra family time. I’ve been bored, depressed, and restless. Today I’m just plain weary.
Lots of things are vying for our attention.
So like my little bicyclist with her gaze straight ahead, I’m choosing to glance at what’s going on around and within – listening to the news reports, heeding the CDC’s directives, working through my emotions with God – but then I’m turning my heart’s focus back to Jesus.
Not that it’s easy. But it is a conscious choice. One that takes coming back to, day after very long day, moment after mundane moment.
Because really, how we walk through these days is a matter of faith.
Will we choose to bring our fears and our feelings to God? Will we hold onto the promises of His Word? Will we focus on Jesus and trust His heart and His plan?
He alone can anchor our souls through this storm. So right now, let’s guide our hearts back to rest by looking at Jesus (See Psalm 116:7):
He has the final say, despite unpredictable viruses and even human free will (1 Peter 3:22).
Let’s fix our eyes on Jesus and step boldly into each new day, knowing our God is for us (Romans 8:31), and with us (Matthew 28:20), and in us (1 John 4:4).
What other qualities of Jesus are you resting in right now? I’d love to hear! Please comment below.
Have you ever been so tired you wished you’d come down with a bug, just so you’d have an excuse to stay in bed?
I’ll admit, I’ve hoped for such a thing on more than one occasion.
Last fall was one of our family’s busiest seasons ever. Between sports obligations, church commitments, school assignments, and a full remodel of our 1960’s kitchen, our schedule was incredibly full. Often feelings of weariness, frustration, and just plain anger overwhelmed me.
During those months of crazy, God repeatedly reminded me of the following passage:
“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV).
As I prayed through those verses, I realized that several factors can contribute to our feelings of weariness:
We’re carrying burdens of our own
I’m a natural-born people pleaser. As such, it’s really easy for me to over-commit. To take on responsibilities God never asked me to carry. To try to solve people’s problems myself, rather than pointing them to Christ, praying for them, and stepping aside as He works in their lives.
You may have heard the saying, “Every yes to one thing is a no to something else.” I’m not sure who said it first, but I find it helpful to remind myself of that reality. If I’m spending time and energy on things God hasn’t called me to do, I’m unavailable for those areas where He is leading me to serve.
Sometimes, we are living within the calling He’s placed on our lives. Our responsibilities are gifts from Him. Yet we’re weary because we’re trying to carry those things on our own.
We’re living for God, instead of with God.
In the above verses, Jesus references a “yoke,” a piece of wood placed over the necks of oxen for use in plowing a field. Yokes are often placed on a pair of oxen so they can work in sync. Through this image, we see Jesus calling us into the yoke with Him — not because He needs our help, but because we desperately need His. He invites us to walk in moment-by-moment connection with Him as we carry the responsibilities He’s entrusted to our care.
We’re in an intense season of learning
Some seasons are unavoidably exhausting and relentlessly demanding. We’re juggling God-given jobs and we’re looking to Him for strength. Even so, we feel we’re barely hanging on.
Jesus understood. He spent His days loving and serving, teaching and healing. He was no stranger to busyness and exhaustion (Mark 6:31).
In our times of weariness when nothing can or should be changed, He calls us to learn from Him. To fix our gaze on the God who loved well, who knew how to make room for rest, and who poured out His life in service for those He loved.
He was gentle. He was humble. And He is our Source of rest.
So today, if your heart is weary and you’re overwhelmed by life’s burdens, Jesus invites you to draw near.
In the midst of our crazy, one thing matters above all else — walking in relationship with Him. He wants to show us which responsibilities He’s calling us to carry, and He’s eager to bear them with us. He longs to reveal His heart and teach us to find in Him the fulfillment of our every need.
How do you find rest in Him when you’re weary? I’d love to hear — please leave a comment below.
The question tugged at the corners of my soul as I trudged through each day. A dark cloud hovered over every waking moment. And sleep? That was a struggle, too. I had one bed-wetter and another child with night-terrors, so the sleep I did get was often fragmented and restless.
How I hated mornings. I dreaded facing a new day.
How can I be a good mom when I feel so sad, so weary, so…depressed?
Numbness presided over my heart. Things that used to bring joy now seemed empty and hollow. Routine tasks overwhelmed me with paralyzing force. I didn’t want to go out, didn’t want to do fun activities with my kids and especially didn’t want to talk about how I was really feeling.
Depression carries such a stigma. If I admitted my daily struggle, I feared people would see me as weak or unspiritual. They might lecture or give unhelpful help. They might judge me.
Oh, what a prison depression can be. It’s like walking through a deep, dark valley with insurmountable cliffs towering high above, blocking out any ray of light or hope for escape.
I’ve spent time there and come out the other side. May I share with you what I learned?
Get real with God.
Jesus calls Himself “the God of hope” and invites us to pour out our hearts to Him.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Romans 15:13 ESV
“Trust in Him at all times, O people. Pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8 ESV
His heart is kind and full of compassion, not condemnation. He can handle our pain and is not disappointed when we struggle. He is still a miracle worker and healer of hearts.
Let others in.
It’s hard to own this struggle, but admitting our need and asking for help is a huge step in the healing process. Maybe it’s a trusted friend or a prayer group that can lift us up before God. Maybe it’s a doctor who can evaluate things from a medical perspective.
Do something for yourself.
This may sound selfish, but sometimes it’s the healthiest, most unselfish thing we can do. We can’t pour into the lives of others if our own tank is on empty. Find something that gives you rest, even enjoyment, and make room for that in your life.
Progress, not perfection.
The day may seem daunting, the job overwhelming. Instead of striving for perfection, aim for progress and rejoice in each step.
Our God is patient as He forms Christ in us. He is not in a hurry, nor is He disappointed that we’re not further down the road to recovery. Becoming like Jesus is a life-long process that God is committed to completing.
“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6 ESV
Depression is a cruel companion, but it does not define us. We are not helpless victims, but treasured children of an all-powerful God. He is always close at hand and has made us more than conquerors through His unconditional love.
