06/20/2026
Have you ever noticed that one of the most encouraging things Jesus ever did was not a miracle, a sermon, or even a resurrection?
It was being honest.
I think sometimes we accidentally create this picture of faith where a "good Christian" is supposed to smile, never question anything, never struggle, never feel overwhelmed, and certainly never tell God that something hurts. We imagine faith means standing there with everything falling apart around us and saying, "Everything is fine!" while the emotional equivalent of a barn fire is raging behind us.
Then we get to the Garden of Gethsemane.
Jesus knew exactly what was coming. He knew the betrayal was coming. He knew the arrest was coming. He knew the beating, the mocking, the nails, and the cross were coming. And what did He do?
He prayed.
And His prayer was not, "This is great. I am having a wonderful time."
His prayer was, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me."
In other words, if there is another way, I would very much prefer that option.
Yet in the very next breath He says, "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will."
That is not a lack of faith. That is faith.
Faith is not pretending you don't have preferences. Faith is not pretending something doesn't hurt. Faith is not pretending you aren't afraid. Faith is bringing all of those things to God and then trusting Him anyway.
Then comes the cross.
As Jesus hangs there, He cries out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
People sometimes read that and wonder if Jesus was doing something wrong by asking that question.
I don't think so.
First, He was quoting Psalm 22, a prophecy written centuries before His birth that describes the suffering of the Messiah with incredible detail. But second, the pain was real. The suffering was real. The weight He was carrying was real.
The Son of God was not pretending.
And maybe that is what I find so comforting.
Because sometimes Christians seem to think that asking God "why" is somehow evidence of weak faith. Yet Jesus Himself cried out in anguish. He Himself asked if there was another way. He Himself brought His pain before the Father.
The problem was never the question.
The problem would have been refusing God's answer.
There is a difference between saying, "Lord, I don't understand," and saying, "Lord, I won't obey."
Jesus did the first. He never did the second.
Maybe that is a reminder some of us need today.
God is not shocked by your questions. He is not surprised by your grief. He is not wringing His hands in Heaven because you admitted that what you are carrying is heavy.
Sometimes faith looks less like standing on a mountaintop shouting victory and more like kneeling in a garden at night saying, "Lord, I don't want this. I don't understand this. This hurts."
And then getting up and taking the next step anyway.
That is exactly what Jesus did.
And because He did, there is hope for the rest of us when we find ourselves in our own Gethsemane moments.