As April unfolds, we shift from hope’s gentle spark to the deeper terrain of faith and renewal. Last week, we stood at the dawn of rebirth; this week, we confront what happens when dawn’s arrival stalls — when promises alone can’t steady us.
A few years ago, after a particularly difficult season of loss and transition, I sat in a pew, hearing words that once lifted me fall flat. I wasn’t angry or in crisis — just tired, a weariness beyond the body, born of disconnection. Staring down at the shadows cast by the amber-colored stained glass, I thought, “I want to trust things will get better, but I can’t sense it now.”
We rarely talk about these dry spells — the long, quiet stretches when faith seems like tuning into a frequency we can no longer hear. Yet they’re as real as moments of clarity.
Even Mother Teresa wrote about decades spent in darkness, showing doubt doesn’t erase trust — it enriches it. Belief isn’t struggle’s absence; it’s what grows when answers fade, and we stay open anyway.
Our daily lives offer a parallel — much like technology’s need for pause. Picture that dreaded spinning wheel you see when your computer stalls, not broken but overloaded. We, too, require spiritual reboots to clear the static — a break from noise and expectation, a chance to simply be and find inner peace. Maybe it’s a long walk, a scribbled journal entry, or an hour offline.
In spring, traditions like Easter and Ramadan teach that rebirth follows wilderness — Good Friday’s silence before joy, a month of restraint before Eid’s celebration. Rama’s exile and the Israelites’ wandering whisper the same: renewal travels through the ache, not around it.
Up in Canada, snow clings to northern provinces while cherry blossoms unfold in Victoria. The land shows us revival doesn’t rush in. Each year in Quebec, maple trees yield their sweetness only after winter’s harshest freeze. The sap that sustained them through darkness transforms into something precious.
Our emotional winters work similarly — what carries us through uncertainty often becomes the sweetest wisdom we later share with others.
If your hope wavers — if prayer echoes in silence or ritual turns routine — know this: you’re not broken. Naming the emptiness takes courage. When your conviction frays, let someone else carry a portion for you. A friend’s words, a stranger’s kindness, or a well-timed memory can lend enough strength for the next step. Sometimes, belief is borrowed — and that’s still enough to continue. Every season of the soul, even the parched ones, weaves into growth’s larger tapestry.
This week, give yourself permission to pause. Breathe. Voice your questions. Create a simple “questions journal” — a private space to write honestly about your doubts without judgment.
Note what drains your energy and what restores it. Perhaps light a candle during this practice as a physical reminder that questions themselves can be enlightening.
Next week, we’ll make space for that journey of rebirth by clearing what no longer serves. It’s time for spring cleaning — inside and out.
Scott Tilley is the founder of CTS Ministries and an emeritus professor at the Florida Institute of Technology. You’ll be able to find this column, Spirituality Today, every Sunday at floridatoday.com. Contact Tilley at spirituality@cts.today.
This article originally appeared on Florida Today: When faith wavers: Finding strength amid doubt | Spirituality Today
Reporting by Scott Tilley / Florida Today
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