The Promise Is Still There

I was drinking coffee this past Monday morning. I am worn out. Tired….As I’m wrestling with a headache and exhaustion, I had a moment of staring at my coffee cup. This mug was given to me by my late friend, Ron Pickett, I’d say about 7 or so years ago, and on both sides of the mug are the words:

“I got this.” — God

Or at least… that’s what it used to clearly say.

Over time, one side has started to fade. You can still make out the words if you look closely. The other side? It’s almost completely gone. If you didn’t already know what it once said, you probably wouldn’t be able to figure it out at all.

A coffee cup that says "I Got This" God. Test is faded, and barely legible

And honestly, that cup has been speaking to me lately.

Because sometimes life feels exactly like that faded message.

There are seasons where God’s promises feel clear and obvious. Times where His presence feels close, prayers seem answered, and peace comes easily. But then there are wilderness seasons. Seasons where things hurt. Seasons where prayers feel heavy. Seasons where life doesn’t make sense.

This past year has been one of those seasons for me.

If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’m not okay. Moments of exhaustion, grief, uncertainty, and wrestling internally with things I don’t fully understand. And when you’re in those places, it can sometimes feel like the message has faded. Like you can’t quite see what God is doing anymore.

But just because I can’t clearly see the promise doesn’t mean it disappeared.

The words on that mug are still there, whether my eyes can fully make them out or not.

And the same is true with God.

His faithfulness does not fade because my circumstances get difficult. His promises do not disappear because I feel lost in the wilderness. His presence is not dependent on my ability to see or understand what He is doing.

God is still there.
God still has it.
God still has a plan.

I think sometimes we love the idea of surrendering control to God… until it actually requires us to surrender control.

We sing songs like “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” but deep down we still want our hands on it. We want to hold onto the wheel “just in case.” Or maybe we slide over into the passenger seat but spend the entire trip trying to be backseat drivers, telling God where to turn and how fast to go.

But trust doesn’t work that way.

Real trust means letting go.
Real faith means believing God is still working even when the road ahead looks unclear.
Real surrender means accepting that His plan may not look like ours.

That’s hard.

Especially in wilderness seasons.

Especially when the cup looks faded.

But maybe faith was never about seeing every detail clearly. Maybe faith is choosing to believe the words are still there even when life has worn away our ability to read them easily.

“I got this.”

Not because life is easy.
Not because we understand everything.
Not because we feel strong all the time.

But because God is faithful.

Even in the wilderness.
Even in grief.
Even in uncertainty.
Even when the promise feels faded.

The message hasn’t disappeared.

And neither has He.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” – Deuteronomy 31:6


If the words of this post felt heavy, then here is my prayer for you. As you read it, reflect on the promises that God will never forsake you, that Jesus came and died on the cross for you. Our promise is not for today, but for a tomorrow to come.

Father God

Thank You for being faithful even when we cannot clearly see what You are doing. Thank You that Your promises do not fade with time, hardship, grief, or uncertainty. Even in seasons where life feels heavy and the path ahead feels unclear, You remain constant.

Lord, this has been a hard season. There are moments where we feel tired, discouraged, and not okay. There are moments where we struggle to understand why things happen the way they do. But even in the wilderness, help us remember that You are still present.

When fear tells us that we need to hold onto control, teach us to surrender. When we try to grab the wheel back from You, remind us that Your plans are greater than our own. Help us stop trying to be a backseat driver in our faith and instead trust fully in where You are leading us.

Give us peace in the unknown.
Give us strength for today.
Give us faith when the promises feel faded.
And give us the courage to trust that even when we cannot see it clearly, You still have it.

Thank You for never leaving us.
Thank You for walking with us through every wilderness season.
And thank You that Your love and faithfulness never wear away.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

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