When The Story Breaks

Scripture: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” — John 6:68

I've written extensively about the major crisis of faith I had many years ago, when I was driving to church on an Easter Sunday morning and realized I didn't know for sure whether I believed any of the things I was about to preach. 

It took me years to walk through those doubts and to come to a new way of believing.  It was one of the single most transformative seasons of my life.  

But I haven't written all that much about how it felt.  In short, it was awful.  I felt like I was adrift in the ocean with no land in sight.  I didn't know whether I  would be able to continue being a pastor, which I thought was my life's calling.  

There were more than a few dark nights of the soul during that time when I wondered if God existed, and if the Church still mattered.  I was disoriented and despairing, and couldn't talk to anyone about what I was going through.  

In the end, my disillusionment was the key to unlocking a different kind of faith.  I also learned that doubt is the constant companion of faith, not its enemy.  

Disillusionment can feel like the unraveling of everything we once trusted. We may wonder how faith that once felt certain can suddenly feel confusing, fragile, or wounded. Yet the word “disillusionment” literally means the loss of an illusion — the letting go of something false so something truer may emerge. 

Many in Scripture walked this painful road: Elijah under the broom tree, Jeremiah lamenting his call, Job demanding answers, Thomas longing for proof, and Peter weeping in regret. Their struggle was not the end of faith; it was the place where faith deepened.

When many walked away from Jesus because His teachings no longer matched their expectations, Peter didn’t stay because everything made sense — he stayed because he had encountered something real. 

"Where else are we going to go?" Peter responded when Jesus asked his core followers if they were going to leave, like so many of the other followers had, when the way became uncertain.  Then he said something so honest, so amazing that it became a mooring point for me, too: 

"You have the words of life."  

Mature faith is not built on unbreakable certainty but on the ongoing encounter with the living Christ, which is anything but predictable.

Sometimes our disappointment reveals that what we believed about God was too small, too transactional, too neat, or too dependent on personal outcomes. Letting those illusions fall can feel like loss, but it is often the doorway to a wiser, more resilient faith. 

The God who meets you in disillusionment is not offended by your questions, hurt, or confusion. God is not fragile, and your honesty does not break the relationship — it strengthens it.

You may not be able to neatly reconstruct every belief right now, but God can hold you while you rebuild. If all you can pray is “Where else can I go?” or “Lord, help my unbelief,” that is still prayer — and it is enough.

Trust that what is breaking may be making room for something sturdier, humbler, more compassionate, and more able to withstand life’s unpredictability. Faith that has wrestled becomes faith that can carry others.

Prayer

God who meets us in questions, hold us when certainty slips away. Free us from illusions that cannot bear the weight of truth, and gently guide us toward what is real. Let disillusionment become fertile soil for deeper trust. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What illusion about God, faith, or life might God be inviting you to release?

2. Who can you talk to honestly in this season without fear of judgment?

3. What simple prayer might sustain you while you wait for clarity?