‘This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.’ — 1 John 3:19–20 (NIV)
‘But the great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not.’ — C.S. Lewis
I’m an emotional person.
I think my family and I first realised this when my parents decided to get rid of a dying cheese plant from our lounge. As they took it away, I crumpled to the floor and wept. My five-year-old self was absolutely distraught.
Thankfully, I managed to recover and heal from such a distressing moment in my life.
Even today, I still feel things deeply. I get surges of emotion when I remember memories, hear people’s words, watch films, and see cute animals. And yep, I still get sentimental about my plants.
I’m grateful that I'm in touch with my emotions. But as I’ve got older, I’ve had to learn to navigate the relationship between my feelings and my faith in Jesus.
It hasn’t been an easy journey.
There have been countless times in my life when all seems to be well in my walk with Jesus—when I've been regularly spending time in His Word, seeking Him in prayer, singing to Him in worship, and my relationship with Him feels steady, real and fairly robust—and then, all of a sudden, my feelings completely change.
Out of nowhere, fear creeps into my heart. Doubt seeps into my mind. Shame erodes my confidence in God and where I stand with Him. Things that I felt so certain about begin to disintegrate into uncertainty.
These moments used to be utterly crippling. I could never be fully at ease in my relationship with Jesus. Like a Jenga tower, I’d busy myself piling up the blocks that I thought would build an immovable faith in Him, only for a violent prod from an unsettled feeling to bring it all crashing down.
At times, it was hopeless. At least, it felt like it.
But a few years ago, I came across the verses at the top of this Journal which finally, mercifully, offered the comfort and clarity I’d long sought:
‘This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from him anything we ask, because we keep his commands and do what pleases him.’ — 1 John 3:19–22
These words were transformative for me.
If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts.
God is greater than our hearts. He is so much bigger than our feelings, however formidable they may seem.
We don’t need to feel overwhelmed in the face of our ever-changing emotions; we simply need to look outside of ourselves towards the One who knows everything, who sees and holds it all in perfect wisdom, power and love.
Over time, I’ve come to understand the right way of perceiving and treating our feelings. They can be useful guides, helping us relate to our surroundings, relationships and circumstances—but, ultimately, they are a poor barometer for what is true, right and good.
Like shifting sands or the ocean currents, our emotions can change at any moment and suddenly pull us under. They are hardly the foundation on which to base our faith—especially faith in an unchanging, eternal and perfect God.
‘The true way for a Christian to live is to live entirely upon Christ... Christians have experiences and they have feelings, but, if they are wise, they never feed upon these things, but upon Christ Himself.’ — Charles Spurgeon
Rather than trying to gain control over our hearts and the feelings that erupt from them, we must give Jesus control over them. Rather than being consumed by our feelings, we must allow ourselves to be consumed by His fullness.
He is more than enough for us, and we must live entirely upon Him. We must feed ourselves on His words, His goodness, His very self. We must construct our lives upon Christ, the Rock of Ages, the One who is firm, faithful and the same yesterday, today and forever.
It’s only when He is seated on the throne of our hearts, and when we stand established and steadfast upon Him, that we are fully secure, safe in our Saviour’s unwavering love for us, shielded above the torrents of our fluctuating feelings.
And even in the moments when these emotions inevitably surge and threaten us, we aren’t helpless—instead, we are sheltered in His protection, assured in His presence, and strong in His power.
‘Who dares accuse us whom God has chosen for his own? No one—for God himself has given us right standing with himself. Who then will condemn us? No one—for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us.’ — Romans 8:33–34
Who dares accuse us? What can ever condemn us?
No one. Nothing. Not even a single anxious, doubting or condemning feeling.
Jesus has come. He has died. He is alive. He is defending us in the presence of the Father. His love for us and His fondness of us never changes, even if we feel like it does. We are forever secure in Him, even if our emotions tell us that we’re not.
So, whatever you're feeling at the moment about your relationship with God, hold fast to this unchanging reality: Nothing can separate you from His love.
Even when condemnation points its accusing finger at you.
Even when confusion clouds your sight of the truth.
Even when fear tells you that you’re wrong.
Even when these feelings arise, Jesus will always rise above them, and His love will always extend beyond them.
Nothing can separate you from Him or His love, and nothing ever will.
Love,
Theo