When Faith Hurts: Does God See Christians Who are Struggling?

By thechristiantechnerd on September 1, 2025

God, I need to get this out. I can’t carry it around anymore.

I feel like I’m breaking.

I don’t doubt that You’re real. I never have. But I’m starting to wonder something way more painful—do You see me?

Do You really see me?

I’m not asking this as someone who’s lost faith. I’m asking it as someone whose faith hurts. Like physically aches. Like waiting-for-years, tears-on-my-bedroom-floor, why-do-I-keep-hoping kind of hurt.

I’ve prayed for so long. For healing. For direction. For a spouse. For financial breakthrough. For You to step in and rescue someone I love from addiction. For clarity. For peace. For things that are GOOD. Things I know You care about.

But I keep getting silence. Closed doors. Loneliness. More waiting.

Sometimes I feel like those people in Psalm 94. “And they say, ‘The Lord does not see; the God of Jacob does not perceive.’” (Psalm 94:7) I read that verse and think, Wow. That’s exactly how I feel sometimes. Like You don’t even notice.

And that terrifies me. Because what am I supposed to do when the God I believe in more than anything else feels distant or even—dare I say it—absent?

But then I keep reading…
“He who planted the ear, does he not hear? He who formed the eye, does he not see? … For the Lord will not forsake his people; he will not abandon his heritage.” (Psalm 94:9, 14)

That hits hard.

Because deep down, I know You see. You created my eyes. You crafted my ears. You wired my heart to crave connection with You. There’s no way You’re blind to my pain.

But still. It hurts.

God, why does it take so long sometimes? Why do You ask us to wait so long when You could change things with just a whisper?

Sometimes I feel like You’re just watching from a distance while I struggle to keep my faith intact. And then I immediately feel guilty for thinking that. Because I know it’s not true. I know You’re near. I know Your Word promises You’re “close to the brokenhearted” (Psalm 34:18), and that You “collect all our tears in a bottle” (Psalm 56:8).

But there’s a gap between what I know and what I feel. And I think You can handle me saying that.

(CLICK HERE TO PRAY WITH The Christian Tech Nerd)

I think You want me to be honest, even if it’s ugly.

I don’t want to pretend anymore. I’m tired of the “bless and highly favored” church mask. I’m tired of acting like I’ve got unwavering peace when I’m crying in the shower and asking why my prayers seem to evaporate into the ceiling.

I want to trust You even when it feels like You’ve gone quiet. I want to believe—like the psalmist did—that even if deliverance isn’t here yet, it’s still coming.

Because he remembers, God. That’s what shook me when I read Psalm 94 again today. He reminded himself of all the times You had delivered him before. “If the Lord had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.” (Psalm 94:17)

That’s what I need. Remembrance.

You have been faithful before.
You have come through in impossible situations.
You have spoken when I least expected it.
You have saved me from things I didn’t even know were destroying me.

So maybe it’s not that You’re ignoring me now—maybe it’s just that You’re working behind the scenes in ways I don’t see yet. Maybe this “no” or “not yet” is actually a gift. Maybe You’re building something in me that comfort could never produce—like endurance, character, and a fierce kind of hope (Romans 5:3-5).

Still, it’s hard, Lord.

I’m not asking You to make life perfect. I’m not even asking You to take all the pain away (though if You did, I’d be grateful!). I’m just asking You to remind me that You’re near. That You haven’t forgotten. That I’m not crazy for continuing to believe You’ll show up.

Because every time I consider walking away from this faith—You pull me back.
Every time I want to give up praying—You whisper something small that gives me strength.
Every time I think You’ve abandoned me—You send someone to say exactly what I needed to hear.

So maybe that’s what trust looks like in this season. Not pretending I’m okay, but clinging to the truth that You are, even when I’m not.

Lord, I don’t want a fragile, feel-good faith that only works when life is pretty.
I want a real faith.

A rugged, blood-and-tears kind of faith.
A faith that doesn’t break in the silence.
A faith that remembers.

So I’m choosing—again—to believe that You see me.
Even when the job doesn’t come through.
Even when the loneliness lingers.
Even when the healing delays.
Even when my heart keeps breaking.

You see. You hear. You care. You save.

God, I don’t understand this waiting. But I trust You in it.

Help me believe You’re near even when it feels like You’re far.

Help me want You more than I want answers.

And give me peace that surpasses understanding—not peace that comes from things going my way, but peace that comes from knowing You are with me no matter what.
Give me joy in the waiting. Show me glimpses of Your goodness.

And when I get tired of hoping, remind me that hope in You is never wasted.

Amen.

Christian Thought for Today

What if the thing I’m waiting for isn’t being withheld… but being prepared? What if the delay is protection? What if the closed doors are really just reroutes to something so much better than what I even knew to pray for?

God, open my eyes to see what You see.