When I’m drowning in a season of suffering, my pain often floods my vision, and I miss the small moments where God is still faithful. Suddenly all his promises and claims of character fall flat in front of me like cardboard cut-outs. He’s still the same God in that suffering, but often it’s my eyes—my faith—that have grown jaded and weak.

Our acts of faithfulness can at times seem so personal and pertinent to only ourselves, that over time our eyes slowly turn inward. Our self-centered hearts have a habit of turning us inward, even when something is meant to drive us outward to our neighbour and upward to God. How do we keep our gaze where it’s supposed to be in this daily plodding along?

I fear vomiting. I have my entire life. Yet God has proven faithful time and time again, even though I continue to struggle with this overwhelming fear.

As well as we know the sting of the unfaithfulness of others to us, we also know of our own unfaithfulness. Who can be trusted? If even those who love us most will still be unfaithful due to their sin, and we ourselves cannot be trusted because of our sin, is there anyone who we can look to that will be steadfast?

A year of living in on-going house renovations, seeing rooms completed one piece at a time, I have learned not only patience but a lot about sanctification. In many ways this little house is much like my heart, and yours too.