Someone to Believe In

Excerpted with permission from Someone to Believe In by Courtney Reissig. Copyright 2025, B&H Publishing.

A few years ago, I found myself in a season where my world felt like it was crumbling. Many of the things I thought I knew were no longer true. I was in a new place, making new friends, and starting new rhythms. It was disorienting. I tried so hard to grasp for something familiar, something—anything—safe. But grabbing for stability was like grasping for a feather. It was in view, but the minute I got close to it, it blew away again.

My soul begged for stability, but everywhere I turned it was elusive. My heart longed for rest, but chaos swirled around me. I needed steadying, but it wasn't coming from within.

Our pastor at the time was preaching through Hebrews, and as he neared the end of the series this verse washed over me like a torrent of water in a parched land:

Have you ever gone to church one random Sunday and sensed the Lord delivering a word from the Scriptures straight into your heart? Straight into your circumstances? Sitting in that pew Sunday morning, I knew he was doing just that for me. A lot of things felt shaky, but the unchanging nature of Jesus Christ was the anchor I was looking for. It was time to learn what it meant to not just agree mentally with this truth about Jesus but grab onto it for dear life as the world gave way.

It took some time, but I can say with conviction that I've learned what it means to be steadied and stabilized in days of upheaval. Not by a new season or a better set of circumstances, mind you, but by Christ unchangeable. On that random Sunday morning when everything around me seemed to be shifting, I desperately needed to grasp onto the Savior who stays steady. And I've needed to do the same countless times since. As they say, the times are always changing. My life is always changing. My circumstances are regularly uncertain, but Jesus never is. This has become the repeated refrain of my life when I need someone to believe in and all the people around me seem untrustworthy. When my times keep changing.

There are a lot of things that lead people to believe this promise in Hebrews can't be true. One of those things tends to be people who let us down. People who were supposed to be like Jesus, maybe. People who were supposed to guide us, perhaps. Or people who were at least supposed to care.

I've been there. Perhaps you're there right now.

What's striking about the location of this Hebrews passage is that it comes right after the exhortation to remember your leaders—the ones who "have spoken God's word to you" (Heb 13:7). Why do we need reminding that Jesus stays the same—right after hearing about our spiritual leaders?

Just scan recent history (or all of history, really) to find out the reason. Leaders fall all the time. Those charged with caring for us disappoint us on the regular. Even the best men and women succumb to their fallen nature from time to time. When we look at the church landscape today, we hear of Christians deconstructing quite frequently. We learn of people doubting their faith because of unbelief in God's word, disappointment from church leaders, or even their own sin.

Deconstructing is a buzzword today. For some, it means turning from their faith in Christ entirely. For others, it means untangling their experience of faith from what the Bible says is true. Some deconstruct and come out an atheist. Others deconstruct to a stronger faith in Christ alone. No matter the outcome, the impetus for re-examining your faith can often be identified either in an event or a lifetime of micro-events.

Maybe for you, it's not people. Maybe it's physical suffering or wondering when you'll get your next paycheck or the ache of loneliness when everyone around you seems to have found both their soulmate and a flourishing friend group. Or maybe your struggle with unbelief isn't visible. Your life is comfortable. You've walked the narrow road. But in the quietness of your mind, unbelief lurks, questioning what you hold close. However you experience it, the common denominator is this: you feel shaky. Like the ground beneath you is fracturing. Like the landscape around you is changing, be it slow or fast, and nothing looks quite the same as it used to. Your footing is off, and with it, you're heading in life. We might not have the same experience that led to the shifting foundation, but we all know uncertainty when it creeps up on us.

And yet, Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

The reality of our Savior's unchanging character stabilizes us in a world of rocky terrain.

We all have a story to share about how life shatters us. But if we trust in Jesus, we all have a testimony to give about his unchanging nature giving us the strength to pick up the pieces—or not be broken beyond repair. If we are going to stand in the shifting sand of life, we need to know this concrete Savior. Things may change, and we may change, but knowing that he doesn't sustains us. He's worth believing in.