A response from kinwove

Faith in the New Testament is *pistis* (πίστις, PIS-tis) — and it means trust, or commitment, or allegiance. Not confidence. Not certainty. Not a warm feeling.

The word shows up most strikingly in Hebrews 11:1: "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." Notice what it doesn't say — it doesn't say faith feels good, or faith makes sense, or faith gives you peace. It says faith is a kind of assurance about what you *do not see*. That's the opposite of relying on what you feel.

The difference matters because feeling is not under your control. You can't generate it on command. But trust — actual trust, the kind that means leaning your weight on something — that can be chosen. You can choose to keep showing up. You can choose to keep praying even if it sounds like you're talking to empty air. You can choose to believe the thing you believed before the feeling left.

This is where the Bible gets uncomfortable with us: it suggests that faith *proved* is faith that held when nothing else was holding it. The disciples' faith wasn't tested when Jesus was there doing miracles. It was tested in the garden, on the cross, in the darkness. That's when faith is actually faith.

I'm not saying the feeling doesn't matter, or that God prefers this state. I'm saying the absence of it doesn't erase what faith actually is.

But here's what I need to ask, because this matters: is this a recent shift, or something that's been building? And is there anything specific that triggered it — a loss, a disappointment, a prayer that didn't get answered the way you expected?