God, I’m Tired of Being Brave
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Because real faith isn’t afraid to wrestle—it dares to walk.
We often treat curiosity like a threat. Like it’s a slippery slope to disbelief. But what if curiosity isn’t the enemy of faith? What if it’s the very spark that deepens it?
Faith that never asks questions isn’t strong. It’s scared.
From childhood, many of us were told, “Don’t question God.” But have you ever noticed? The Bible is full of questions—and God isn’t offended by them. Mary asked, “How can this be?” when the angel announced her divine mission. Thomas said, “Unless I see… I won’t believe.” Job poured out his confusion and pain. And Jesus Himself cried, “My God, why have You forsaken me?”
Heaven didn’t cancel them. Heaven heard them.
Curiosity is not doubt in disguise. It’s desire—for understanding, for intimacy, for truth. It means you care enough to wonder. It means your soul is awake.
But curiosity needs a compass. That compass is conviction.
Conviction isn’t stubbornness. It’s not blind faith either. It’s the quiet, anchored belief that even when life doesn’t make sense, God still does. It’s the decision to stay when walking away would be easier. It’s what keeps your knees bent in prayer, even when your heart feels dry.
We live in a time where people either blindly follow or angrily walk out. This article is an invitation to the middle. To the tension. To the truth that you can be curious and faithful. In fact, real faith requires both.
Because faith isn’t the absence of questions—it’s the presence of trust.
So ask your questions. Bring your “how” and “why” to God. But when the answers delay, don’t walk away. Stay. Stand. Believe anyway.
A curious mind asks, “Lord, show me.”
A convicted heart declares, “Still, I trust You.”
The dance between the two? That’s where faith comes alive.
A poet, author, and faith writer who believes words can heal what silence hides. My poetry collections — Inked Emotions, Scattered Feelings Stitched in Ink, and Love Beyond Loss — were born out of seasons of grief, solitude, and deep reflection.
Here on Catholic365, I’ve been humbled to share reflections that have reached hundreds of readers. I write not from a place of perfection, but from a longing to make sense of love, loss, and the quiet ways God speaks into our lives.
Whether it’s a poem, a story, or a small reflection, my hope is that you feel seen, encouraged, and gently reminded that faith isn’t always loud — sometimes it’s found in the waiting, the falling, the starting again.
You can find more of my work at https://about.me/anniedcosta
