"Faith Check"

Trusting God Beyond What We Can See

What everyday uncertainty can teach us about hearing, speaking, and living our faith.

When the Warning Light Comes On

A check-engine light gets our attention. We may still be driving, but that little signal tells us to pause and look more closely. Lately, I have felt a similar invitation in my spirit: Marcia, it is time for a faith check. Not a reason to panic. Not an accusation. An opportunity to ask whether the faith I talk about is the faith I am actually living.

That question became personal after a conversation at work. I still had my job, but what I heard made me consider how much confidence I placed in the routines that supported me. A regular paycheck can make it easy to say, “I trust God.” When the schedule is dependable and the bills are covered, faith can feel comfortable. But what happens when something familiar becomes uncertain?

I asked the Lord, “If this job went away, would I still trust You?” I was not asking because work or income were unimportant. They matter. I was asking whether I had begun treating a channel of provision as my ultimate source. Gratitude for a paycheck and dependence on God can live together, but I needed to remember which one held the deeper place in my heart.

While preparing to speak, I kept returning to Romans 4:17. The passage describes the God Abraham believed: the God who gives life to the dead and calls what does not yet exist as though it does. Abraham trusted the promise before he saw its fulfillment in Isaac. That challenged me. Was I waiting for circumstances to reassure me before I would believe, or was I learning to rest in God's character while the outcome remained unseen?

I had walked by faith during nine years of full-time ministry. Those memories still encourage me, but yesterday's testimony cannot replace today's dependence. I cannot simply point backward and say, “I trusted God then.” The invitation is present tense: trust Him here, in this season, with these questions. A faith check asks where I stand now—not where I stood years ago.

Here is the question I am carrying: If something I depend on changes, can I still turn toward God rather than let fear become the only voice I hear? I do not need to pretend uncertainty feels easy. I need to bring it honestly to the One I believe is faithful.

Put the Word in Your Heart and Mouth

When I listened again to teaching from Fred Price, I felt stirred to spend more time with Scripture—not merely to recognize familiar verses, but to meditate on them. Recognition and nourishment are not the same thing. I can know where a passage is located and still need to let its meaning settle into the way I think, speak, and respond.

Romans 10:8 places the word near us, in our mouths and hearts. That connection matters. What fills my heart eventually finds its way into my conversation. If I want to locate myself spiritually, I can begin by listening to myself. Am I rehearsing only what frightens me? Am I repeating every discouraging possibility? Or am I making room for what God has said?

In Matthew 4:4, Jesus responds to temptation by returning to what is written. His answer reminds us that life is sustained by more than bread alone; we need the word that comes from God. Bread is necessary, but it is not the whole story. Neither are groceries, employment, savings, or the things I can easily measure. I can appreciate those gifts without asking them to carry the weight of my deepest trust.

“It is written” has become a steadying phrase for me. It turns my attention away from the endless conversation of worry and back toward Scripture. When I speak God's word, I am seeking agreement with His truth. I do not mean that words are a magic formula or that saying the right sentence lets me control God. I mean that my confession should express the trust I am growing in my heart.

Romans 10:9–10 connects belief in the heart and confession with the mouth to faith in Jesus and His resurrection. Later, Romans 10:17 reminds us that faith comes through hearing. I keep coming back to that ongoing invitation. Not simply, “I heard that once.” Hearing means returning, listening, and allowing the word to shape me again. Familiar truth can meet a new fear with fresh strength.

We already talk to ourselves. Sometimes we tell ourselves that we cannot manage, that nothing will change, or that the worst outcome is inevitable. Why not let some of that conversation become prayer? I can say, “Lord, help me trust You here. Remind me of Your faithfulness. Let Your word guide my next step.” That is not ignoring a problem. It is refusing to let the problem become my entire story.

It also helps to quiet the noise. There are times when I need less commentary, less repetition of alarming possibilities, and more space to listen. I value prayer with people who can encourage me without denying what is difficult. Agreement should deepen trust and compassion, not pressure anyone to hide questions. A heart grounded in Scripture can speak honestly and hopefully at the same time.

Faith Belongs in Everyday Life

My faith check is not limited to work. It follows me into my home, my relationships, and the changes I notice in my body. I want to mature gracefully. There was a time when I could clean my three-bedroom, two-bath condo from top to bottom on a Saturday morning. These days, I may finish the downstairs and decide that upstairs can wait. The house still needs attention, but so does the way I speak to myself.

I can acknowledge changing energy without turning every day into a complaint about myself. I can be grateful for my body, pray for strength, and adjust the pace. When I turn to the healing language of Scripture, I do so as an expression of hope in Christ. Prayer is not a reason to ignore symptoms, dismiss a diagnosis, or delay medical care. Trusting God and seeking appropriate care can belong in the same faithful life.

That distinction matters when someone else is hurting. A woman once came into our office apologizing for being late. Then she shared that her husband had terminal cancer. They had no insurance, and their savings were gone. Her words stopped me. Behind an ordinary appointment was a family facing something overwhelming. My faith check could not remain only about my own comfort; it had to make room for another person's pain.

I want to pray with hope when people face suffering, but I do not want my hope to silence their experience. Illness is not proof that someone lacks faith. Neither is financial hardship. We can believe God is faithful while listening carefully, offering compassion, and recognizing that we do not know how every situation will unfold. Faith should help us draw near to people, not make us judge their circumstances.

There are less dramatic moments, too. Once, I could not find my phone. I searched the sofa, lifted cushions, looked upstairs, and checked the car. I was certain I had left it beside me. Finally, I turned down the television and could hear the sound from my device locator. The phone was upstairs on the bathroom counter—not where I had been so sure it was.

I laughed, thanked God, and took the reminder: sometimes the noise needs to come down before I can notice what is helping me. I pray about ordinary things because ordinary things make up so much of life. And yes, I still use reminders, calendars, and notes. Practical tools do not cancel dependence on God. I can pray for clarity and write down the appointment.

My grown children invite another kind of trust. I cannot direct every choice they make. Love does not give me control over their lives. There comes a point when I have to release the effort to manage everything and say, “Lord, I entrust them to You.” I can remain loving and present without carrying an impossible responsibility. Faith reaches into the everyday places where I need help letting go.

From Hearing to Living

Another faith check happens at the gas pump. When filling my car costs more than I expected, complaining comes easily. But I am learning to pause and thank God that I can fill the tank. Gratitude does not change the posted price or erase the need to budget. It changes the posture of my heart. I can recognize the expense without letting worry claim every word I speak.

That is the kind of transformation I want from hearing Scripture. I do not want church to become only a familiar routine. I want to receive something I can carry into the week: one truth that steadies my speech, one reminder that reshapes my response, one invitation to trust instead of rehearse fear. Attendance alone is not the goal. A life increasingly shaped by Christ is.

Romans 1:16–17 brings me back to the gospel as God's power for salvation and to a life of faith. The movement from faith to faith reminds me that growth is ongoing. Hebrews 11:1 connects faith with hope and what is not yet seen. I may not have the complete picture today, but I can still bring my next step to God. Trust is not reserved for the day everything finally makes sense.

Seeking God's kingdom first, as Matthew 6:33 teaches, helps put my concerns in order. I still have needs, responsibilities, and desires. But I do not want the pursuit of things to become the center of my life. I want relationship with God to shape how I receive, how I decide, and how I give. Provision is not simply about what reaches my hands; it is also about becoming a blessing with what I have.

So this week, I am keeping my faith check simple. I will name the place where fear is loudest, return to a relevant Scripture in its context, and let it become part of my prayer. I will listen to my own words and notice when complaint has taken over. And when someone else is struggling, I will make room for both hopeful prayer and honest listening.

A faith check is not a demand to prove that I never struggle. It is an invitation to return to the One I trust. I can pray, “Lord, help my unbelief,” and still be moving toward Him. I can be grateful for yesterday's testimony while making room for today's growth. I do not know everything ahead, but I want to meet it with a heart grounded in God's word.

A Closing Prayer

Father, thank You for Your faithfulness. Help us live by Your word and not by fear alone. Bring our hearts and speech into agreement with Your truth. Give us wisdom for our responsibilities, compassion for those who hurt, and courage to trust You where we cannot see the outcome. Teach us to receive Your blessings with gratitude and to become a blessing to others. Let what we hear become something we live. In Jesus' name, amen.