What will you do when you inevitably lose faith in your calling?
Hey there,
Friend.
My name is Anthony.
If you've been working towards building something,
Working on a goal,
Pursuing a path,
A calling,
A purpose,
And you find yourself losing faith,
I'm hoping this message can help you reignite it.
There are seasons in life when faith slips quietly through your fingers.
You wake up one morning and the thing that once felt certain now feels far away.
You try to remember the spark,
The clarity,
The conviction,
But all that remains is the dull hum of doubt.
Most of us panic here.
We scramble for signs,
For reassurance,
For someone to tell us we're still on the right track.
Because I keep losing faith.
I wish it happened just once.
That moment of doubt,
Followed by revelation,
But it keeps circling back.
Like meditation,
I drift,
I return,
I drift again.
Some days,
I'm certain I was born for this work.
The words flow,
The ideas connect,
The energy hums.
I feel the thread of something larger pulling me forward.
Then,
Almost without warning,
It slips.
The thread goes slack.
The world feels muted.
I start asking if any of it matters,
If I just built another illusion to chase.
I used to think that meant I was failing,
That real purpose was supposed to feel unwavering.
But maybe the drift is part of the practice.
Maybe faith isn't a constant state,
But a rhythm.
Inhale,
Exhale,
Lose,
Return.
What if losing faith is how faith deepens?
Real trust doesn't come from clinging to belief.
It comes from learning how to return.
Return to presence,
Return to breath,
Return to the simple truth of being alive.
Even when meaning feels out of reach.
Faith that survives doubt doesn't roar.
It settles.
It learns your nervous system.
It knows storms as well as stillness.
Every time I lose faith,
I find myself in the same still place,
Stripped of certainty,
Facing my own reflection.
That's when I hear it.
Not a voice,
But a pulse,
A reminder.
Bring it back to what makes your heart sing.
Bring it back to what makes your heart sing.
Sometimes that means writing a single line that feels true.
Sometimes it's going outside to let the wind remind me how small I am and how alive I still get to be.
Sometimes it's just breathing until the noise inside softens enough for me to feel what never really left.
I don't think the goal is to stop losing faith.
The goal is to keep returning.
To learn that doubt isn't the enemy.
It's the doorway back to devotion.
Because every time I drift,
I find my way back.
My trust grows quieter,
Steadier,
More real.
Not blind faith,
But embodied faith.
The kind that knows it's okay to forget as long as you remember again.
So the question isn't,
How do I keep faith from leaving me?
It's how will I return when it does?
Maybe you start by noticing the smallest thing that's true.
The light through the window.
The steadiness of your breath.
The fact that you're still here.
Still waiting.
Still willing to try again.
That's enough.
That's where faith begins again.
Not in certainty,
But in the quiet courage to return.
So what will you do when you inevitably lose faith in your calling?
