What if you aren’t feeling these things from God though to the point where you have to question, “Am I even saved? Will I be left behind in the Rapture?” Today, for example, I just cried out to God about how lonely I felt; how unloved, how discarded, how abandoned. I reminded Him of the how much I’ve been asking Him to talk to me in a way that I understand and I just keep getting silence.
People say that God doesn’t play favorites. While this may be true, it certainly doesn’t feel that way. While God is blessing people with healing, I’m constantly in chronic pain. Nothing helps anymore. Depression? It feels like I’m on my own there, too.
It has become almost impossible to pray with faith that Jesus will listen. I truly don’t know how people can pray and just know that thing will happen, because that has not been my experience at all.
How do I gain the faith that Jesus will come through for me when He blessed others with visions, Heavenly encounters, and I pray, exhausted and disheartened, in bed or in my closet?
I want you to hear something before anything else: the fact that you are crying out to God — even in anger, even through tears, even from your bed — is faith. You may not feel it. But the very act of turning toward Him when everything in you wants to turn away tells me something profound about your heart. You haven't left. You're still talking to Him. That matters more than you know.
I also want to be honest with you: I don't have a tidy answer for why God seems to flood some people with visions and encounters while others pray faithfully and hear silence. I've spoken with over a thousand people who've had encounters with Heaven, and I can tell you this — many of them will tell you they went through seasons exactly like the one you're describing right now. Seasons of darkness. Of feeling forgotten. Of wondering whether God even noticed them. Some of the people God used most powerfully in Scripture felt the same way. David wrote, "How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?" (Psalm 13:1). Elijah, fresh off one of the greatest miracles in the Bible, sat under a tree and asked God to let him die. These were not people of weak faith. They were people in real pain.
Here is what I want to say to you as gently and directly as I can: your pain is not evidence that God has abandoned you. Your silence from Heaven is not proof that you've been disqualified. Depression lies. Chronic pain distorts everything. And the enemy loves to use both of those to whisper exactly what you're hearing right now — You're not enough. He doesn't care. You'll be left behind. That is not the voice of your Father.
Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have visions." He said, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" (John 20:29, NKJV). Do you understand what that means for you? That faith you're struggling to hold onto in the dark, with no encounter, no dramatic sign, just raw obedience and desperate prayers from your closet — Jesus calls that blessed. Not second-class. Blessed.
You asked how to gain faith that Jesus will come through. Can I offer you something? Stop measuring His faithfulness by what He gives others. I know that's hard. But comparison will destroy you. God's timing and methods with you are not less loving because they look different from someone else's story. He is not playing favorites. He is being a Father — and a Father knows what each child needs and when they need it.
And please hear this: get help for the depression and the pain. Not because faith isn't enough, but because God works through people, through medicine, through counselors. Asking for help is not a failure of faith. It is wisdom. Jesus Himself said that the sick need a physician (Mark 2:17).
You are not forgotten. You are not disqualified. You are not being left behind. You are a child of God who is suffering — and suffering does not separate you from His love. Nothing can (Romans 8:38–39).
Keep crying out. Even if it feels like silence. He hears every word.
Dear Katie I feel quite isolated well. I’ve been praying for a friend who would like to visit about Yeshua. I’m praying for you Katie!
What if you aren’t feeling these things from God though to the point where you have to question, “Am I even saved? Will I be left behind in the Rapture?” Today, for example, I just cried out to God about how lonely I felt; how unloved, how discarded, how abandoned. I reminded Him of the how much I’ve been asking Him to talk to me in a way that I understand and I just keep getting silence.
People say that God doesn’t play favorites. While this may be true, it certainly doesn’t feel that way. While God is blessing people with healing, I’m constantly in chronic pain. Nothing helps anymore. Depression? It feels like I’m on my own there, too.
It has become almost impossible to pray with faith that Jesus will listen. I truly don’t know how people can pray and just know that thing will happen, because that has not been my experience at all.
How do I gain the faith that Jesus will come through for me when He blessed others with visions, Heavenly encounters, and I pray, exhausted and disheartened, in bed or in my closet?
I want you to hear something before anything else: the fact that you are crying out to God — even in anger, even through tears, even from your bed — is faith. You may not feel it. But the very act of turning toward Him when everything in you wants to turn away tells me something profound about your heart. You haven't left. You're still talking to Him. That matters more than you know.
I also want to be honest with you: I don't have a tidy answer for why God seems to flood some people with visions and encounters while others pray faithfully and hear silence. I've spoken with over a thousand people who've had encounters with Heaven, and I can tell you this — many of them will tell you they went through seasons exactly like the one you're describing right now. Seasons of darkness. Of feeling forgotten. Of wondering whether God even noticed them. Some of the people God used most powerfully in Scripture felt the same way. David wrote, "How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?" (Psalm 13:1). Elijah, fresh off one of the greatest miracles in the Bible, sat under a tree and asked God to let him die. These were not people of weak faith. They were people in real pain.
Here is what I want to say to you as gently and directly as I can: your pain is not evidence that God has abandoned you. Your silence from Heaven is not proof that you've been disqualified. Depression lies. Chronic pain distorts everything. And the enemy loves to use both of those to whisper exactly what you're hearing right now — You're not enough. He doesn't care. You'll be left behind. That is not the voice of your Father.
Jesus did not say, "Blessed are those who have visions." He said, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" (John 20:29, NKJV). Do you understand what that means for you? That faith you're struggling to hold onto in the dark, with no encounter, no dramatic sign, just raw obedience and desperate prayers from your closet — Jesus calls that blessed. Not second-class. Blessed.
You asked how to gain faith that Jesus will come through. Can I offer you something? Stop measuring His faithfulness by what He gives others. I know that's hard. But comparison will destroy you. God's timing and methods with you are not less loving because they look different from someone else's story. He is not playing favorites. He is being a Father — and a Father knows what each child needs and when they need it.
And please hear this: get help for the depression and the pain. Not because faith isn't enough, but because God works through people, through medicine, through counselors. Asking for help is not a failure of faith. It is wisdom. Jesus Himself said that the sick need a physician (Mark 2:17).
You are not forgotten. You are not disqualified. You are not being left behind. You are a child of God who is suffering — and suffering does not separate you from His love. Nothing can (Romans 8:38–39).
Keep crying out. Even if it feels like silence. He hears every word.
With love and prayer for you today,
Randy