faith over feelings – The Christian Tech-Nerd

I feel both full and convicted. Full—because You’ve (GOD) been so present in my life lately. Convicted—because I realize there’s so much more of my heart I haven’t truly surrendered to You.

I keep coming back to this verse:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”
— Deuteronomy 6:5 (NIV)

All. That word has been echoing in my spirit lately. Not some of my heart. Not most of my soul. Not when it’s convenient. But all. Every part of who I am. Every moment. Every breath. Every hidden corner.

And if I’m honest with myself—painfully honest—I don’t know if I’ve really loved You with all my heart. I love You deeply, passionately, with a reverence that shapes my life. But I also know that sometimes I hold pieces of myself back. I cling to control, pride, comfort, and even fear.

This morning during my quiet time, I asked myself a tough question:
What does true devotion to God actually look like?

It’s not just going to church. It’s not just reading my Bible every morning. It’s not even just avoiding sin.

True devotion looks like love in action. It’s consistent surrender. It’s obedience even when it’s hard. It’s valuing Your voice over everyone else’s—even my own. It’s daily saying: Not my will, Lord, but Yours be done.

“If you love me, keep my commandments.”
— John 14:15 (KJV)

That verse wrecks me. Because it shows that love for You isn’t just emotional—it’s practical. Tangible. Expressed through obedience. You’re not asking me for a warm feeling. You’re asking for my life.

And I want to give it to You. Not just on the days I feel “spiritual,” but on the days I feel messy, distracted, or tired. Because You never asked for perfect—You asked for all.

Lord, teach me what it really means to love You with all my heart. I don’t want to be lukewarm. I don’t want to follow You halfway. I want to burn with devotion for You. I want my life to scream, “Jesus is worth everything.”

You showed me something today during my walk. As I passed this tree, I noticed how deeply its roots had grown into the ground. I felt You whisper, “That’s what I want your love to look like—deep, anchored, unshakable.”

I want roots like that. I don’t want to be the girl whose love withers in the heat of trial. I want to be found faithful, even when no one’s watching. Even when it costs me comfort or approval. Even when You’re asking me to do something I don’t understand.

That’s what loving You with all my heart looks like:
Loving You when I don’t feel You.
Loving You when prayers go unanswered.
Loving You when obedience is painful.
Loving You more than my own desires.

I think about Abraham and how he was willing to sacrifice Isaac. That’s what You call true devotion. That story always stretches me, but it also inspires me. Abraham trusted You so much, he was willing to give up the one thing he loved most. I want a heart like that.

“You shall have no other gods before me.”
— Exodus 20:3 (ESV)

No idols. Not relationships, not comfort, not success, not self. Nothing before You. That’s the challenge of true devotion—it requires an undivided heart. And some days, I realize how much work I still have to do.

Lord, search my heart. Tear down anything that competes with You. I don’t want to say I love You while secretly placing my trust in lesser things.

Right now, I want to offer You this simple, sincere prayer:

Father God,

You are worthy of my whole heart. Forgive me for the times I’ve given You only pieces of myself—when I’ve been half-hearted in worship, distracted in prayer, or hesitant in obedience.

Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a right spirit within me. Teach me to love You more deeply, more honestly, more fully. Help me to love You with all my heart, all my soul, all my strength—and not just in theory, but in how I live, speak, and choose each day.

Let my love for You be proven in the quiet places, not just the public ones. Make my heart soft to Your voice, and my feet quick to follow it.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Something I’ve learned lately is that love without discipline doesn’t go very far. That’s why I’ve been asking the Holy Spirit to help me build spiritual habits that reflect devotion—not obligation. It’s not about performing for You. It’s about being near You. Staying close.

So here’s what I’ve been working on:

Intentional time with You (not just checking a box)
Fasting distractions that pull my heart in different directions
Saying yes to uncomfortable obedience—like reaching out to someone I’d rather avoid
Choosing purity in how I talk, what I watch, and how I date
Praising You first—even before I ask for anything

None of these things earn Your love. But they flow from it. They’re the fruit of a heart that’s in love with You.

True devotion isn’t flashy. It’s steady. It’s showing up every day and saying, “Here I am, Lord. All of me. Again.”

“Blessed are those who keep His testimonies, who seek Him with the whole heart.”
— Psalm 119:2 (NKJV)

With my whole heart. That’s what I want, God. Not half. Not 80%. All.

I know I’ll fall short. I’ll have moments when I waver, when my heart gets pulled by shiny distractions or loud opinions. But even then, I pray You’ll pull me back. Redirect me. Remind me of the cross. Remind me of grace. Because the beautiful thing about loving You is that it’s not about perfection—it’s about pursuit.

And I’m pursuing You, Jesus. Day by day. Thought by thought. Step by step. I want to finish this life having poured it all out for You, with no regrets, no holding back.

So tonight, I’m making a quiet vow:
To love You not just with my words, but with my life.
To love You when no one else sees.
To love You with all my heart—even when it breaks.

Because You are worthy of all of me.

Today has been quiet. Not the kind of quiet that brings peace, necessarily — more like the kind of quiet that feels like You’re hiding. I don’t want to admit it, but I’ve felt distant from You lately, like I’m calling out into a canyon and all I hear is my own voice echoing back. It scares me.

I keep thinking of Elijah in 1 Kings 19. After the fire, after the earthquake, after the wind… there You were — not in the chaos, but in the still small voice. A whisper.

“And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.”
— 1 Kings 19:12 (ESV)

I wonder if I’m just too distracted to hear Your whisper.

This morning, I sat with my coffee and tried to read the Word like I usually do. But I’ll be honest — I didn’t get far. My mind kept wandering to everything I feel like I’m missing: direction, clarity, certainty. I want to know what You want from me — with my career, with my singleness, with this sense of waiting I can’t shake.

I know faith isn’t about feelings. I know that. I’ve told myself that a hundred times. But I miss feeling You near.

So I prayed:
“God, if You’re here — please, help me to hear You. Even in the silence. Especially in the silence.”

And right then, I felt a strange peace settle over me. Not loud. Not even warm, really. But steady. Like a whisper I couldn’t quite catch, but I knew was meant for me.

Maybe that’s what faith looks like sometimes — trusting that You’re present even when You don’t speak loud.

I remembered Psalm 46:10:

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

Being still is harder than it sounds. My brain constantly wants answers. Movement. Resolution. But You invite me into stillness. Not just quiet around me, but quiet in me. A heart that isn’t frantic for answers but anchored in You.

Faith, I think, is most real when it has to lean on who You are, not what I can hear or feel.

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
— Hebrews 11:1 (ESV)

I guess I’ve been measuring closeness with You by how “seen” or “heard” I feel. But maybe this is one of those seasons where You’re inviting me deeper — past the emotional highs, into the quiet trust.

Like a relationship that matures. Less fireworks, more foundation.

There’s something beautiful and hard about that.

I walked down to the lake near my apartment this evening. The water was still — not a breeze. Just birdsong and the hum of life going on. I sat on a bench and asked You again: “Are You here?” I didn’t hear a voice. No signs. But my eyes caught this tiny ripple on the surface of the lake — like something beneath moved, unseen, but there.

I don’t know why, but I thought: That’s You. Moving beneath the surface of my life. Quietly. Faithfully. Even when I can’t see it. Even when I forget to notice.

It reminded me of Isaiah 30:15:

“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

That’s the kind of strength I want. Not the kind that performs or pretends to have it all figured out. But the quiet strength of a heart that trusts You are good — especially when I don’t have the map.

Jesus, I believe You are enough for me in the silence. I don’t need a booming voice or a perfect plan. I just need You. And You’ve promised You’ll never leave.

“And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
— Matthew 28:20 (ESV)

Tonight, I’ll go to bed still not knowing exactly what’s next. Still single. Still unsure about grad school. Still a little worn down. But I will lay my head down in peace — not because the silence is gone, but because You are in it.

You whisper, and that’s enough.

Let me learn to lean in. To trust even when You seem far. To believe that You’re close even when it feels quiet.

A Prayer Before I Sleep:

God,
Thank You for meeting me in the silence.
Even when I can’t feel You, You’re faithful.
Teach me to listen for Your whispers —
Not just in the quiet around me,
But in the stillness of my soul.
Grow my faith in the unseen.
Help me to rest in Your presence —
Not because I have all the answers,
But because I know You hold them.
I love You, even when I don’t understand.
I trust You, even when You whisper.
And I’m Yours, always.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Tag: faith over feelings

Loving God with All Your Heart: What True Devotion Looks Like

When God Whispers: Finding Faith in the Silence