Text: Job 1:20–22; Job 2:7–10; Job 13:15–16 (NKJV)
There’s a moment in Job’s story that stops me cold every time.
It’s not when he loses his livestock, or his house, or even his health.
It’s not even when he buries his children.
It’s what he does next that breaks me open.
“Then Job arose, tore his robe, and shaved his head; and he fell to the ground and worshiped.” (Job 1:20, NKJV)
Worship.
Not after the storm passed.
Not when the healing came.
Not when God explained everything.
Right in the thick of ruin, with his heart in pieces and the air still thick with grief, Job chose to worship.
That’s not just faith. That’s grown-up faith.
What Does Grown-Up Faith Look Like?
We’ve heard the phrase “childlike faith” preached from the pulpit—simple trust, dependence, wonder. And that’s good. It’s biblical. But there’s another side to spiritual maturity that doesn’t get nearly as much airtime.
Grown-up faith doesn’t always get answers.
It doesn’t always feel God’s presence.
It doesn’t always see the reward.
But it remains faithful anyway.
It’s the kind of faith that keeps showing up at the altar when your prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling.
It’s the kind of faith that keeps your Bible open even while your world is closing in.
It’s the kind of faith that tears its robe in grief and still says, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there.
The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;
Blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21, NKJV)
Let that sink in. Job didn’t worship because he understood. He worshiped because he trusted—and trust doesn’t need an explanation when it’s rooted in relationship.
The Real Test of Integrity
Job didn’t just endure suffering—he was stripped bare in every way. Financially. Relationally. Physically. Emotionally. And then came the voice of the person who should’ve stood beside him in solidarity—his wife.
“Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!”
But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” (Job 2:9–10, NKJV)
He didn’t rebuke her harshly. He didn’t retaliate with bitterness. But he refused to let go of his integrity.
There it is.
Right there is the battle line we all face.
Do we have a faith that endures adversity? Or do we only serve God when the blessings flow?
Grown-up faith doesn’t just praise in the light—it clings in the dark. It holds on when the feelings fade. It says, “I still believe” even when every earthly reason not to is staring you down.
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him. Even so, I will defend my own ways before Him. He also shall be my salvation.” (Job 13:15–16, NKJV)
Job wasn’t in denial. He wrestled. He asked questions. He poured out raw grief and soul-deep confusion. But he never let go of the God who had let grief touch his life.
That’s grown-up faith.
A Mirror for the Modern Church
Let’s be real. We’re not very good at suffering.
We’ve built a brand of Christianity that sells the blessings of God but rarely prepares people for the battle. We hand out coffee mugs that say, “God is good,” but don’t know what to say when a believer is drowning in loss and no rescue boat comes.
We’ve started measuring our spirituality by how “blessed” we appear.
But what if the truest test of faith is what we do when the blessings disappear?
Can you still praise when your body is sick?
Can you still pray when your heart is shattered?
Can you still stand when it feels like God Himself allowed the storm?
That’s the crossroads. That’s where integrity is either refined or abandoned.
Let’s Be Honest With Ourselves
If you’ve been walking through a season of fire—where nothing makes sense and God feels silent—I want to speak to you gently but truthfully:
Don’t confuse God’s silence with His absence.
Don’t confuse your pain with His punishment.
And don’t confuse your confusion with faithlessness.
Sometimes faith is loud and victorious.
Other times it’s quiet and stubborn—barely a whisper.
But if you’re still clinging? Still choosing to worship even while you bleed?
Then you’ve got grown-up faith, my friend. And it’s rare. And it’s beautiful.
Final Questions for Reflection:
- What’s the condition of your faith when God doesn’t answer?
- Is your relationship with Him built on who He is—or just what He gives?
- Have you ever praised God through tears instead of triumph? What did that moment change in you?
- What does it mean to you to “worship with ashes still on your skin”?
Let’s not settle for a faith of convenience.
Let’s be a people who worship not just when God gives, but also when He takes away.
Let’s carry a faith that can stand in the furnace—not because we understand, but because we know the One who walks in the fire with us.
