Why Is It So Hard to Be a Christian?

 

Nobody told me following Jesus would feel like this.

I don’t mean nobody told me life would be hard. I’ve heard those sermons. I’ve read those verses. I know Jesus never promised that following Him would make every problem disappear.

I’m talking about the battle that happens inside of me.

I’ve been a Christian for years, and I still have moments when my first reaction isn’t grace.

Sometimes it’s anger.

Sometimes it’s pride.

Sometimes I know I should forgive, but part of me would rather hold onto what happened.

Sometimes I know exactly what Scripture says, and I still don’t particularly like what it’s asking me to do.

You would think the longer you follow Jesus, the easier all of this would become. Temptation would disappear. Patience would become automatic. Forgiveness wouldn’t take so much work. Your thoughts and reactions would naturally start lining up with your faith.

But that’s not always how it works.

Sometimes I think taking my faith more seriously has actually made me more aware of just how much in me still needs to change.

And recently, I got another reminder.

When the Pressure Finally Came Out

My weekends are short, and there’s always more that needs done than there is time to do it in — appointments, things around the house, errands, writing I want to get to, time I want to spend with Brian working through ideas for the blog.

And at the top of that list, ahead of all of it, is my wife and my family. I don’t want to get so focused on getting things done that I miss the people I’m doing it all for in the first place.

Tasks can be rescheduled. Time with the people I love isn’t something I want to keep pushing to another day. If it fits on a calendar, it gets worked around my family, not the other way around.

But other people’s schedules don’t always line up with mine. Plans change. Something unexpected gets added. I want to get everything accomplished and still have enough time and patience for everybody who matters to me — my cake and eating it too.

Some of what was building was mine to carry, not this post’s to explain. But it was there.

Eventually I let it get the better of me.

Then I Snapped

I snapped. Raised my voice. Vented all of it at my wife.

She didn’t argue back. She didn’t do anything to deserve it. I wasn’t even really upset with her — I was upset about everything else, and she was standing there when it came out.

That’s not an excuse. It’s worse than an argument, honestly. An argument would mean two people pushing against each other. This was just me, unloading on someone who didn’t have it coming.

I knew better.

I know what Scripture teaches about patience, grace, and self-control.

I know the kind of husband I want to be.

I know the kind of Christian I want to be.

And I still got it wrong.

That’s when the title of this post stopped being just an interesting question.

Why is it so hard to be a Christian sometimes?

Then I Opened My Devotional

The next morning, I sat down like I do most mornings — and the day’s reading was on stress, depression, and defeat.

It felt like it had been sitting there waiting for me.

I read it. Read it again. Worked through the Scripture that went with it. Prayed. Stayed there a while.

Because somewhere in that, I had to admit something I’ve known a long time but apparently still need to learn how to live:

I can’t control everything.

My attitude is mine. My words are mine. How I treat my wife is mine. How I respond when I’m frustrated is mine.

But I can’t make everybody else’s schedule fit mine. I can’t make every situation work out how I want. I can’t control what someone else does. I can’t fix every problem or force something to happen just because I think it needs to happen now.

I can plan. I can prioritize. I can do what’s mine to do.

And then there’s a point where I have to let go of what isn’t mine to control, stand back, pray, and trust God with it.

Apparently, knowing that and actually doing it are two very different things.

We’re Still Fighting a Nature That Doesn’t Want to Lose

Maybe that’s part of why following Jesus can be so difficult.

Salvation doesn’t mean the struggle inside us disappears.

Paul describes it in Galatians 5:16-17. The sinful nature wants one thing, the Spirit wants another. They’re working against each other.

That’s Christianity in real life.

I can know I need patience and still feel anger. Know I need to forgive and still want to hold onto something. Know I need to trust God and still try to control the outcome. Know I should keep my mouth shut and still have the perfect response loaded and ready.

Knowing what Jesus teaches doesn’t mean I’ve mastered living it.

Maybe following Jesus doesn’t make the battle harder. Maybe we finally start noticing the fight.

You Start Seeing What You Used to Ignore

Before you start taking your faith seriously, there are things you can justify pretty easily.

Anger can feel justified. Pride can look like confidence. Holding a grudge can feel like protecting yourself. Gossip can sound like ordinary conversation. Getting your way can feel like standing up for yourself.

Then you start getting closer to God. Reading Scripture differently. Praying differently.

And suddenly some of the things you used to walk right past start bothering you.

That doesn’t necessarily mean the struggle just appeared. Maybe you’re finally seeing it.

Paul understood that frustration. In Romans 7:15-25, he describes wanting to do what’s right while finding himself doing the very things he hates.

If Paul could admit that, maybe the rest of us can stop pretending we don’t have the same fight.

The presence of a battle doesn’t mean God isn’t changing you. Sometimes you notice the battle precisely because He is.

The Culture Isn’t Neutral

We live in a world that constantly encourages almost the opposite of what Jesus teaches.

Comparison instead of contentment. Outrage instead of patience. Getting even instead of forgiveness. Promoting yourself instead of humility. Winning the argument instead of loving the person.

You don’t have to go looking for it. Most of us carry it around in our pockets.

One notification can ruin your mood if you let it. One post can make you angry. One comment can pull you into an argument you had no intention of having five minutes earlier.

Following Jesus means sometimes choosing not to participate. That’s not always easy.

The Battlefield Isn’t Always What We Think

A lot of the battles I’ve faced don’t look dramatic at all.

Sometimes it’s choosing forgiveness when staying angry feels justified. Closing the app instead of feeding the anger. Opening your Bible when everything else is competing for your attention. Recognizing that the stress you’re carrying is starting to land on the people around you.

And sometimes it’s sitting down the next morning and admitting to God: I got that wrong.

Ephesians 6:10-18 tells us our struggle is bigger than what we can see, and tells us to put on the armor of God.

But most days, the battle in front of me isn’t a dramatic confrontation. It’s a decision. Who am I going to listen to right now?

Jesus Never Promised Easy

Maybe part of the problem is that somewhere along the way we started believing following Jesus was supposed to make life easier.

Jesus never said that.

In John 16:33, He told His disciples they would have trouble in this world. Not might. Would.

But He didn’t leave them there. He told them to take heart, because He had overcome the world.

That’s the hope. Following Jesus doesn’t mean there won’t be pressure, that I won’t get frustrated, that temptation disappears, or that I’ll never get something wrong again.

The difference is what happens when I do.

When You Get It Wrong

I felt terrible after I raised my voice at my wife.

But feeling terrible isn’t repentance.

I have to recognize what I did. Own it. Apologize. Ask forgiveness. Learn from it.

That’s where grace becomes more than a word we throw around.

I don’t have to pretend I didn’t fail. I don’t have to excuse it because I was stressed. And I don’t have to believe one bad reaction means God has given up on me.

I can bring it to Him. Repent. Get back up. Keep following.

Maybe becoming more like Jesus isn’t reaching some point where the fight disappears. Maybe it’s recognizing the fight sooner. Surrendering faster. Repenting quicker. And realizing more and more how much you need Him.

So Why Is It So Hard to Be a Christian?

Because Jesus isn’t merely trying to improve our behavior. He’s transforming us. And transformation means there are things inside us that have to change.

Pride doesn’t surrender easily. Anger doesn’t disappear quietly. Control is difficult to release. Old habits don’t leave just because we read the right verse. And faith gets very real when God asks us to trust Him with something we cannot control.

I’m still learning that.

I can plan my week. Prioritize my weekend. Make time for my wife, my kids, and Brian. Work. Write. Pray. I can do everything that’s mine to do — and schedule the rest around them, not the other way around.

But eventually I reach the edge of what I can control. That’s where faith has to take over.

Some days I’ll do that well. Other days I’ll get it wrong. But I’m not the same man I was before I started taking this fight seriously — and I don’t believe God is finished with me yet.

If you’ve ever wondered why following Jesus can feel so hard, maybe the struggle isn’t proof your faith isn’t working.

Maybe you’re becoming more aware of just how much you need Him.

The goal isn’t to become so strong you don’t need Jesus in the fight. It’s to learn you were never supposed to fight without Him.

Keep Reading

• When Faith Has to Become Real
• When Suffering Changes You

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A question to consider: Which part of following Jesus feels hardest in your present season?