Is This Even Worth It?

What God Is Doing When Faithfulness Feels Futile

This week’s body theology is brought to you by the letter F.

F for futility.

In March, when I was on the verge of burnout, Brian was my therapist. He had devoted himself to Jesus decades ago, becoming a missionary overseas driven by a deep passion for the lost. However, he experienced extreme burnout and disillusionment, ultimately leaving the mission field and returning to the States, questioning his identity outside of being a missionary and pondering what to do next.

After a period of soul-searching and punching his first in the dirt, he felt called to become a therapist. Perhaps he sought to find answers to the questions surrounding his own discontent. Regardless of his motivation, I am grateful that he made this transition, as his personal experiences with burnout years ago in ministry would eventually, years later, become a blessing for me. God knew I needed someone who understood the struggles of following Him with your whole heart, soul, mind and strength, while wrestling with feelings of futility.

Futility sounds like: What gives God? All this hard work seems so useless.

For a good Christian, this F word can be provocative and appears impolite. It’s as if God would be upset because we express dissatisfaction with how things are unfolding for us on Earth, where every good seed we plant in the soil faces the threat of drought, thorns, and thistles.

Perhaps back in January, at the turn of the year, you were ready to make a go again at improving your health. It’s not like your goal was to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated; you had hoped that with the Lord’s guidance, you could gain some ground in your health, because you really do believe nothing is impossible with God.

And maybe you’re still going, holding ground, and gaining ground, little by little.

But please, if there’s one thing we must do to heal our souls and love our bodies like Christ, we must get honest. So let’s be honest. Don’t some days feel like futility?

You find yourself thinking: “Are the results I”m getting worth all the effort I put in?”

Strong’s Bible Concordance defines futility as 1. What is devoid of truth, 2. Depravity, 3. Frailty, want of vigor (that last meaning really hits when caring for our body requires physical energy.)

Some of you have experienced a sense of futility or a fragile spirit the first time you stepped on the scale or tried on an old pair of jeans, only to find that there was “no change.” As a result, you gave up and quit. This feeling of futility led you to retreat back into your spiritual comfort zone. You pulled the covers of God’s word over your head and reassured your soul by saying, “My body isn’t important to God. He’s looking at my heart.”

However, you still don’t feel good physically. Your body feels like it’s against you and you’re quietly waiting for the perfect program to cross your path to harness the winds of change and fill the sail of your soul with the energy to try again.

As the character Red says in my most favorite movie, Shawshank Redemption, “Get busy living or get busy dying.” Right?

But to live by faith is to grapple with futility.

Let’s look at what a scripture passage says about futility.

“For creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” - Romans 8:20-21

Three things we can learn from scripture on futility:

1. God Purposes Futility – When I read this passage mentioning that we’ve been subjected to futility, it often feels frustrating and disheartening. My instinct is to blame Satan for this sense of futility, thinking he is the one causing our frustrations and making our faithfulness feel like a waste of time. While he does hold some responsibility, especially from the beginning, we must remember that God is greater than he is. The scripture clearly says it’s God who subjected us to futility. It’s almost as if God has outsmarted Satan, permitting thorns and thistles to be a consequence of sin, but he saw purpose in it. He would use our feelings of futility and our desire to give up as a way to draw us closer to Him. God does not shame us for feeling futile; instead, He invites us, with, “Come to me.” He is our hope when it feels like our faithfulness is amounting to nothing. God’s purposes are at work in futility.

2. God hopes in our futility– Futility feels like barbs in our skin, causing pain and discomfort trigger that tempt us to believe we are enslaved by a harsh God who doesn’t desire our joy or flourishing. When we aks ourselves “What’s the point?” the Spirit of God fights for us to remind us of the living hope we have in Christ . This hope assures us that God is committed to us and will never give up on us. The question is: will we choose to stay committmed?

It seems that futility serves as God’s way of keeping our relationship with Him alive. It prompts us to actively choose Him, to stay with Him long enough to witness what He can do in our lives. Any other choice we could make leads to hopeless futility—marked by depravity and a lack of truth. Because God’s love is not controlling, we are free to give up and go another way, but God will be waiting for us, with the light on at the front porch, ready for our prodigal return.

3. Futility leads to either bondage or freedom. God subjects us to futility and prompts us to ask the question, “Is this even worth it?” This challenge awakens us to a choice. We can either continue in our darkened thinking, believing that God is against us—portraying Him as a tyrant who is unkind—or we can lean into the Kingdom of God, where we return to our identity as His child. As children of God, we are not enslaved people, forced to make bricks without straw day after day. Just a few verses earlier, Paul states that we are heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. This means we are God’s kids, a part of the family business, provided we are willing to endure suffering, especially during days that feel futile.

Following this honest look at futility, eight verses later, Paul pens the infamous Romans 8:28 that adorns countless coffee mugs and wall art around the world;

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

Paul tells us that all things, even those that feel futile, are working for our personal good and for the collective purpose of increasing goodness on earth through all His people, the Church.

Here’s our embodied practice for the next time you feel God isn’t good and enjoys playing tricks on you.

Groan, don’t grumble.

“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Romans 8:22

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” Romans 8:22-26

The Holy Spirit groans.

Groaning isn’t unbelief. It’s honest sorrow mixed with hope.

Grumbling expresses distrust and accuses God.

Groaning says, “Lord, this is hard.”

Grumbling says, “Lord, you are wrong.”

Groaning is honest lament.

Grumbling is bitter complaint.

Groaning is pain mixed with hope.

Grumbling is pain mixed with unbelief.

Groaning moves towards God.

Grumbling pushes away from God.

Groaning wants redemption.

Grumbling demands immediate relief.

In our feelings of futility, I believe Jesus leans forward, elbows on his knees, moving to the edge of his seat, intently interested in our situation. He hopes we will remember who we are and who he is, encouraging us to stay connected to the Father while He works everything out for good. His good kills our pride and suffocates our selfishness and self-sufficiency. It not only blesses us but also impacts others in ways we couldn’t possibly imagine. It is the kind of good that Jesus won for us, even though one of his last words recorded were a deep groan of abandonment: “Father, why have you forsaken me?”

Since returning from my soul-searching time away I still wrestle with feelings of futility. My circumstances haven’t magically improved since I took the time to understand why, like Paul in Romans 7, I find myself doing what I don’t want to do, rather than what I desire. However, one thing is for sure: even though my life isn’t any easier, I go a lot easier on myself when sensing the futility.

I know I am God’s daughter.

Before He said “let there be,” he wanted me.

He gave me life so I could be with Him and do things with Him.

He loves my company. Not the corporation kind but the companion kind.

And that, my embodied friends, I am convinced, is the firm foundation for a beautiful body and soul life.

Rest and peace,

Alisa

*If you’re a Revelation Wellness Instructor or Coach, make sure to attend Revive, your 5-day in-person retreat from October 25-29. We will provide a series of workshops focused on how to love your body while still pursuing change. If you’ve felt like your efforts to help others with their health have been futile because you still struggle with your own, we’ve got you! Post-retreat, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I will lead three follow-up coaching sessions to keep you on your way to change when you return home. Life gets overwhelming, and we want to support your overcoming that sense of futility and keep you on mission with making Love seen.

If you’re not a Revelation Wellness instructor/coach and want to learn more about becoming one, which also includes a 5-day in-person embodied discipleship training retreat, October 25-296th, follow this link.