In Christian discourse, "strength" and "victory" are often upheld as defining marks of faith. Yet when illness strikes, bodies falter, or the soul grows weary, are believers free to present themselves honestly before God and before others?
This feature brings together two personal reflections: one from a believer in Henan who stepped away from public ministry amid physical pain, and another from a pastor in Guangdong reflecting on the often-misread standards of "spiritual maturity." Together, their stories point to a shared conviction: genuine spirituality is not an endless performance but an honest dependence on grace amid weakness.
From the Stage to the Seats: Learning the Obedience of "Stopping"
For a Christian woman, A Lin (pseudonym), in Henan Province, the past two Christmas seasons have been different. Once, she had always been one of the participants on stage. Yet last year and this year, she did not take part in the Christmas performance service, and the reason was not simply her back condition.
Due to long-term occupational strain, she developed a severe reversal of the lumbar curve, with pain so intense that she was at times unable to stand upright. During prayers ahead of the Christmas preparations, a persistent sense of inner unrest, coupled with an unexpected physical injury sustained while attempting to join rehearsals, led her to an unavoidable decision: she had to stop.
Faced with puzzled looks and repeated questions—"Didn't you take part in this year's Christmas program? Not even one performance?"—she found herself at a loss for how to respond. "I thought about using 'back pain' as a shield, but I couldn't," she admitted. "Falsehood comes from the evil one. I could not go against my conscience, nor choose a lie simply to protect myself."
When she finally let go of the insistence that she "had to be on stage" and sat among the congregation watching fellow sisters offer their sincere performance in a modest venue, tears quietly fell. What she felt was not regret over absence, but an unexpected sense of being deeply touched. As she later reflected, "That my eyes could still weep—that itself was grace."
She came to realize that although her way of "being on stage" had changed, the presence of the Most High had not diminished. Stepping down from the stage and into the seats became a process of laying aside self, of ceasing to "perform," and of sensing the support of what she described as the "eternal hands" beneath it all.
A Pastor's Reflection: When "Spiritual Standards" Are Misread
Such struggles amid weakness are not isolated. Recently, a pastor in Guangdong encountered a similar moment of reflection.
After a severe cold and recurring back pain, he asked fellow believers to pray for him. One sister responded with surprise: "So pastors also get weak and sick?" The comment prompted deeper reflection. Beneath it lay an unspoken assumption—that a person of faith should always appear strong, composed, and grateful, even while suffering or being weak.
"In many church settings, an invisible standard exists," the pastor observed. Faith is expected to look like constant strength. As a result, many believers learn to conceal their struggles. Publicly, they speak in the most devout tones; privately, they face exhaustion and silence. Faith, he warned, can quietly turn into a daily performance.
He pointed to Scripture, noting that those most used by God never hid their fragility. Abraham wrestled with doubt. Moses hesitated in fear. Paul carried an unremoved "thorn in the flesh." Acknowledging weakness, the pastor emphasized, is not a mark of shame but often the beginning of grace.
Originally published by the Gospel Times
- Edited by Poppy Chan
