
There’s a kind of question that doesn’t want an answer.
It wants a pause.
Is Jesus real to you?
Not real like a belief you check off.
Not real like a story you agree with.
But real like gravity.
Real like breath.
Real like the way your life actually moves when things fall apart.
Because if Jesus is real—really real—then some things start to shift.
You Stop Relying on Your Own Strength
This one is subtle.
And dangerous.
Because we’re very good at surviving.
Very good at pushing through.
Very good at holding it together with clenched teeth and inspirational quotes.
But following Jesus has a strange invitation embedded in it:
Do what you can.
And then stop.
Not quit.
Not disengage.
Just… release.
You act. You show up. You love. You work. You pray.
And then you trust God with the part you can’t muscle, manage, or manipulate.
Which is most of it.
Faith isn’t pretending you’re weak.
It’s admitting you already are—and discovering you don’t have to be strong all the time.
You Start Asking “How,” Not “Why”
Why is a loud question.
Why wants explanations.
Why wants a reason it can frame and hang on the wall.
But God doesn’t often answer why.
Instead, God whispers how.
How do you take the next step?
How do you love here?
How do you forgive now?
How do you stay present in this moment instead of escaping into answers?
“Why” gives you information.
“How” gives you movement.
And movement matters.
Because following Jesus has never been about knowing everything.
It’s about walking—often without a map—trusting that light will show up where your feet land.
You Ask God to Use the Situation for His Glory
This might be the hardest one.
Because it’s not a prayer for comfort.
And it’s definitely not a prayer for control.
It’s a prayer of surrender.
“God, don’t just get me out of this.
Do something through this.”
Not to make you look impressive.
Not to protect your image.
But to reveal something true—about God, about love, about redemption, about what’s possible even here.
This kind of prayer rearranges your priorities.
It takes the spotlight off your relief and puts it on transformation.
And that’s scary.
Because glory often looks like resurrection—but only after a cross.
So…
Is Jesus real to you?
Real enough to stop pretending you’ve got it all handled?
Real enough to trade explanations for obedience?
Real enough to say, “Use this—even this—for something bigger than me”?
Because when Jesus is real, faith stops being an idea.
And becomes a way of living.