3 Truths on the Paradoxical Path to Real Faith
Mary DeMuth
I am an author and speaker who loves to help readers and audiences live uncaged, freedom-infused lives.
“I can’t be the only reason we’re going home,” I told my husband, tears wetting my face.
“You’re not,” he said. “But your struggle to thrive here in France is one of the reasons we’re leaving.”
Defeat hung between us. I could taste it. Feel it. Our missionary dream of planting churches in France obliterated before me. With a broken heart, I felt the weight of my own failure. I pushed back. Surely I could learn to thrive. I could learn to love my life. But even as I protested, we both knew the sovereign hand of God was moving our family home to the United States.
What do you do when the circumstances of life reveal your imperfections? Hide? Cry? Run away? Justify? I did all those things—and threw in rage, denial and arguments in ample doses. But eventually, by God’s grace, I learned three valuable truths about the nature of real faith.
Truth One: Real Faith Requires Death
The defeat in leaving France hit me hard. I tried not to believe I had any hand in it. Eventually I was honest with myself. Admitted my own inadequacies. Understood and offered grace to my limitations. That level of honesty should have been second nature to me—the author who wrote blogs and books about honest faith, being real, telling the truth. But when it came to the deeper issues of the heart, I found it difficult to admit the truth: I struggled in France. I felt the tinge of death. Jesus alluded to this kingdom truth when He said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24).
In the odd paradigm of death of a dream, life slowly flourished in the aftermath. When we returned home, one of my husband’s seminary professors said, “Nothing significant in the kingdom of God happens unless death occurs.”
It’s a matter of perspective. Instead of seeing your past failure solely in a negative light, consider God’s resurrecting ability to take what you couldn’t do and do something powerful through you. Be expectant. Live in holy anticipation for the fruit that will come. Wait for it.
Truth Two: Real Faith Flows from People who Admit Weakness
I learned the painful truth that my greatest weakness allowed for God’s supernatural activity. I finally understood Paul’s ability to cheer about his weaknesses, how he almost gloried in them because he knew Christ’s ability dwarfed his own. “And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Later, in verse ten, he says he is well content with difficulties.
As one who finds contentment in favorable circumstances and personal victory, this verse jars me. Well content with my own failure? Aren’t I supposed to be strong? Always perfect? Am I better than the Apostle Paul? It’s interesting to me that the raw and real blogs I wrote and the open talks I gave during my weakest point in France brought the mightiest moves of God in others’ lives. My weakness married to Christ’s strength equaled changed lives, including mine.
When in your life has weakness became the canvas for God to display His strength? Is today one of those times? Rest in knowing weakness opens the door to God’s power.
Truth Three: Real Faith Is Humble
Before France, real faith meant my ability to do great things for God. After I performed a “work” for Jesus, I looked for affirmation from others. I concentrated on the first part of Matthew 5:16, neglecting the second. “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” I was all about shining.
Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest perfectly captures the second half of that verse with these words: “I am called to live in perfect relation to God so that my life produces a longing after God in other lives, not admiration for myself . . . God is not after perfecting me to be a specimen in his showroom; he is getting me to the place where he can use me.”[i] As one who preferred the completion of tasks over lethargy, France taught me the beauty of being honest about my shortcomings and letting God’s sustaining power shine through. The process produced a deep humility. Though I’d quoted 2 Corinthians 4:7, I now understood it. “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
We are little clay pots, holding something beautifully splendid inside. Realizing that Jesus blesses humility will help you resist striving to do big things for God. Instead, He performs His big things through your brokenness. “But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6, NIV)
King David understood real faith—a faith mixed with death of dreams, admission of weakness, and a heart of humility. Eugene Peterson explains Psalm 51:17 this way: “I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don’t for a moment escape God’s notice.”
Although at times I felt I’d escaped God’s notice in France, particularly when I realized my struggles, He did notice. He used my sense of failure to build my character, to create real faith. It’s my prayer that you’ll see His fingerprints in your failures as anticipation for a more fruitful, faithful life.
Supercharge your walk with God by reading the entire Bible.
If your time in the Bible has felt tedious and you are longing to revitalize your faith, the 90-Day Bible Reading Challenge is here to help.
With this book as your guide, you can grow your faith in ways you never have before by reading the Bible for the next 90 days--cover to cover.
Wisdom and Hope for Parents of Grown-Ups
As a parent, your role changes drastically after your kids grow up. You fear heartache and strained relationships when your children choose difficult--even seemingly wrong--paths.
Love, Pray, Listen is the gracious, practical resource you need for navigating the rocky terrain of parenting grown-ups.