The Faith That Collapses—And Begins There
Faith is not merely about persistence. To believe is to choose again today the decision made yesterday—to rise again amid repeated collapses. Many understand faith as “unshakable belief” or “unceasing passion.” But the Bible presents quite the opposite. The people of faith often wavered, sometimes completely broke down—and it was in those collapses that they encountered God more deeply.
David, in the Psalms, pours out both his faith and his doubts. One moment he praises God; the next, he cries, “Why have You forsaken me?” Elijah, after calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, fled from Jezebel and sat in despair under a broom tree. Peter confessed Jesus as Lord, but denied Him before the cross.
Scripture never hides faith’s collapse. In fact, it shows that collapse is where God works. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). A broken heart, a collapsed soul, the place of failure—God dwells there. Faith is not about maintaining perfection but about beginning again from the fall.
Modern faith is no different. Fast-paced news, weary routines, burnout, and unexplained suffering wear down our belief day by day. Sunday’s passion turns into Monday’s cynicism. Our commitment to the Word fades beneath fatigue. Prayer loses direction in delayed answers. Church becomes habit. Faith begins to feel less like fire, more like a thread we barely hold on to.
In such moments, people often say, “I think my faith is weakening.” But this may not be weakness at all—it may be the very beginning of real faith. The place where we struggle and doubt before God may be closer to true belief than we think. If we never collapsed, we’d have no reason to cling to God. Because we collapse, we finally feel His hand.
What believers today need most is an understanding of collapse. Being broken is not the same as failing. Through our collapse, we begin to see what we were really depending on—our zeal, our environment, others’ approval. Only when these crumble do we return God to His rightful place. Faith is not a religious test of the right answers—it is a journey through brokenness in which we rediscover the faithfulness of God.
When we collapse, God does not walk away. He’s already there. He lifts us again through His Word. The first thing to do in that place is to open Scripture again. Even if it feels lifeless at first, that’s okay. The Word is like a seed. It takes root where we cannot see.
Faith is not about emotional highs—it is rooted in quiet truth. Just sitting again before the open Bible, that posture itself is a new beginning. There was a young man. He attended worship faithfully and prayed consistently. One day he said, “I can’t pray anymore. The Word means nothing. Sundays just feel burdensome.” His words were full of despair, as if his faith had ended.
But that moment was, in fact, the beginning. Painful honesty is the door to grace. No more pretending. No more puffing oneself up with zeal. In that bare place before God—He works. Faith is not accomplished in a single moment. It is a daily choice. Even if one collapsed yesterday, rising again today is faith.
And that rising is not by willpower, but by grace. God permits the collapse and opens the way of grace through it. Faith cannot grow without falling. It becomes real only when, after falling, we cling again to Christ. What matters is not that we fell, but what we reach for as we rise.
Some fall into despair and drift away. Others lift their gaze to Christ. That difference defines true faith. God remains. He waits. Even when we can’t muster strength, if we still desire to rise, He says that is enough. Faith falls daily and rises daily. Through this rhythm, we learn faith.
Opening the Word again. Kneeling again in prayer. Confessing belief again. These simple acts sustain faith. Even in the quiet night of despair, God still whispers, “I will uphold you.” Faith stands again upon collapse to hear His voice once more.
**To Rise Again Is Not Willpower, but Grace**
Collapse feels familiar. Rising never does. We fall easily. But to rise again always requires strength—and sometimes that strength is gone. So faith often hits a wall. The heart is tired, the will broken, the situation unchanged. That’s when people say, “This must be the end.” But something prevents that end. It is not resolve. It is not a return of feeling. It is grace.
Faith does not rely on our persistence but is rooted in God’s faithfulness. We rise again, day after day, because God never gives up on us.
The book of Lamentations was written in an age of devastation. The city lay in ruins, the people scattered, hope dry and lifeless. Yet the writer declares: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23). Human collapse repeats. But God’s mercy renews every day. The only reason we can fall again is because compassion still flows anew each morning.
God already knows we will fall. But He doesn’t see it only as sin. He prepares grace for that collapse, to begin again from there.
The greatest miracle in the walk of faith is often hidden in the ordinary: opening the Word again, starting to pray again, returning to worship. These repetitions are the clearest signs that grace is still flowing. People may repeat sin. But God never ceases to pour out mercy. Because of that mercy, we rise.
God’s faithfulness overcomes our unfaithfulness. He doesn’t ask for perfection—He seeks sincerity. A returning heart. A confessing mouth. A gaze turned once again toward Him. These things delight Him.
After the resurrection, Peter was not only forgiven. He was reinstated. Jesus met him by the sea, baked bread, and asked three times, “Do you love Me?” That was not a rebuke—it was restoration. Humans fail, but God never severs relationship. We lower our heads in shame; He lifts our faces. Faith is a response to that hand.
Faith grows slowly. It’s never finished in a day. Rising again is no different. Yesterday’s recovery doesn’t guarantee today’s strength. So every day, we must ask for grace again. Sit before the Word again. Open our mouths in prayer again. Turn to the Lord again. This repetition is not ritual—it is breath. When that rhythm breaks, faith suffocates. But if we repeat again, faith revives. We need not despair over collapse. Grace is new each day. So we can rise again, every day.
Many believers blame themselves for being incomplete. Their emotions are dull. Prayer is dry. The walk to church is heavy. Eventually, they feel unworthy. But none of us are worthy. Faith is not about having merit. It is about standing in grace. If there is even a desire to try again, that is already a response to God’s call. He does not reject those who fail. He calls them from their failure. And He works again through them.
To rise again is not emotional healing—it is the recovery of direction. To realize that collapse is not the end, but a turning point—this is when faith moves again. Even tearless prayers are real. Even feelingless worship is meaningful. To stand in that place is grace itself. We do not follow emotion—we follow truth. And truth says, “Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again” (Proverbs 24:16). What matters most is not the fall—but the rising.
Worship is not a place of willpower. It is the place of receiving grace. It is not we who make ourselves stand again—but God. Even our faith comes from Him. God finishes what He starts. He uses not the unshakable, but the ones who return after breaking. Faith is not a path of self-completion, but of dependence. I am weak—but God is strong. I may collapse—but He never does.
Even today, someone’s faith is trembling. The Word feels distant. Prayer feels hollow. Worship feels like obligation. Community feels heavy. But if even one small desire for “again” remains—then faith is not dead. God still waits for your rising. Faith is not built in grand moments. It is formed through daily collapses and quiet returns to prayer. We may fall again tomorrow. But the next day—and the next—God’s grace will never stop.
Faith collapses daily. And rises daily. God is in that rhythm. Do not fear the fall. Do not overlook the rising. His hand is still there. And toward that hand—we walk again today.
Maeil Word Journal | Today’s World, Through the Lens of the Word
