For 15 years, I have called myself a Christian.
But what kind of Christian am I? Sometimes, I honestly do not know.

I know one thing for certain:
my foundation in Christ is strong enough that I have never been able to walk away from my faith completely.
Even in my darkest seasons, something deep within me still whispers His name.

And yet… there are moments when my faith trembles.
Moments when my heart quietly asks:

“God, why do You allow painful things to happen in my life?”

Why did I lose my job when I was trying my best?
Why am I looked down on by people?
Why am I treated like a servant by my own family?
Why am I so often judged as if I am worth less than others?

Sometimes I feel exhausted from pretending to be strong.
Sometimes I wonder if Heaven is silent toward people like me.

But perhaps faith was never about having a life without wounds.
Perhaps faith is choosing to stay, even while carrying unanswered questions.

And maybe… just maybe…
God is still working quietly in places my eyes cannot yet see.

Because a tree with deep roots does not stop being alive during winter.
It only looks empty for a season.

So I remain here.
Still believing.
Still struggling.
Still praying.

Not because my life is perfect,
but because somewhere inside this tired heart,
I still hope that God has not forgotten me.