If you have walked with God for any length of time, you know the rhythm I’m about to describe. It is the often-unspoken reality of our spiritual journey: the feeling of faith as a fluctuating wave. We all know the intense connection of the spiritual highs, where grace feels tangible and our hearts are alive. And we all know the desolate silence of the lows, periods of deep apathy where we feel only numbness and weariness, wondering if our faith was ever real at all.
The core purpose of our time together is not to learn how to eliminate these waves—they are a natural part of the journey. Instead, our goal is to understand the true danger they present and to discover a stable “centerline” that allows us to navigate them without losing our way. The real risk isn’t found in the peak or the trough of the wave, but somewhere else entirely.
The central premise we will explore today is this: The real danger is not the low point itself, nor the high point itself, but the “mind that loses Jesus” within those fluctuations.
With that understanding, let’s first explore the nature of these waves and why both the highs and the lows carry a unique risk to our spiritual focus.
Deconstructing the Wave: Why Both Highs and Lows Can Lead Us Astray
To find the right solution, we must first make the right diagnosis. It is strategically vital that we correctly identify the problem. If we mistakenly believe that our spiritual lows are the only enemy, or that our spiritual highs are always a sign of health, we will fail to address the real spiritual risk that is present in both states. The wave of faith presents a dual danger, with each extreme capable of pulling us off course.
• The Low Point (Spiritual Numbness): During periods of apathy and listlessness, our spiritual vision is stolen by “numbness and weariness.” We feel disconnected and unmotivated, and in that state of emotional fatigue, our will to even look toward God begins to fade. Our focus turns inward to our own emptiness.
• The High Point (Spiritual Overheating): In moments of intense spiritual feeling, our focus can be co-opted by “anxiety and over-excitement.” A good desire for service can curdle into an excessive sense of responsibility, a fear-based deep immersion where we begin to carry burdens God never asked us to lift. This subtle pride, masquerading as devotion, pulls our gaze away from resting in Jesus and onto the frantic work of our own hands.
Whether we are in the cold numbness of a spiritual low or the frantic energy of a spiritual high, the fundamental threat is identical: our gaze is diverted from Jesus Christ. The scenery is different, but the outcome is the same. This poses a critical question: If both states are so perilous, how can we possibly navigate them safely?
The Solution: Redefining Purity as Our Spiritual Centerline
The definitive answer to the problem of these waves can be found in a single, powerful concept: Purity. Understanding this principle in its correct biblical context is the absolute key to finding spiritual stability amid the constant fluctuations of our inner lives.
First, we must dispel a common misconception. When we hear the word “purity,” we often think of achieving a “morally good state” or a feeling of emotional or ethical cleanliness. But that is not the definition we are working with today.
The core redefinition of purity that serves as our spiritual centerline is this: Purity is a state of mind where the direction toward Jesus does not become blurred.
Purity, in this framework, is not a matter of emotional state but of visual direction. It is not about obsessively trying to keep your heart clean from all negative feelings. It is about intentionally keeping your sight fixed on Jesus. It is a directional commitment, not an emotional achievement. This redefinition is not a new burden; it is a profound liberation. It frees us from the impossible task of policing our emotions and calls us instead to the simple, possible act of fixing our gaze.
Now, let’s explore what this principle looks like in the real-life moments of our spiritual highs and lows.
Practical Navigation: Applying the Purity Centerline
Abstract principles are only useful when they can be translated into concrete actions. This section provides a practical toolkit for maintaining our directional focus on Jesus during the spiritual droughts of our lows and the emotional floods of our highs. This is how we live on the purity centerline.
Navigating the Lows (Apathy and Numbness)
At our lowest point, the temptation is to believe that our lack of feeling is the core problem. But it is not. The true problem is not the death of emotion, but the fading of the will to look toward Jesus. The danger is that our numbness leads to inaction and, eventually, a complete turning away.
In this state, purity is defined by maintaining “small units” of engagement with Scripture and prayer as an act of will, not feeling. It does not have to be a passionate hour of study. It can be one verse. It can be a one-sentence prayer. It is the simple, willful act of turning our face back in His direction, even when we feel nothing, that keeps our spiritual compass from spinning out of control.
Navigating the Highs (Anxiety and Overheating)
The dangers at the high point are far more subtle. Here, we face an excessive sense of responsibility and a deep immersion in spiritual activity that is driven by fear, not faith. It is crucial to recognize that anxiety can masquerade as a spiritual emotion, but it is not. That feeling of urgent, frantic pressure is a clear sign that our focus has shifted from Jesus to ourselves.
In this state, purity requires “the moderation of looking only as far as Jesus has given.” You must resist the urge to take on burdens He has not assigned. Trust His pace and His portion for you, rather than letting over-excitement push you into a state of spiritual burnout. Purity here is a calm and steady focus on His will for this moment, and nothing more.
Notice that in both weakness and strength, the solution is the same: a willful, disciplined act of turning our gaze. Purity is not a feeling we achieve; it is a direction we choose, again and again.
The Three Anchors: How to Maintain Your Centerline
Maintaining the purity centerline is not something we can do through sheer willpower alone. We need reliable anchors that keep us oriented correctly, no matter how turbulent the storm. These three pillars are not burdensome tasks, but foundational supports designed to hold us steady.
1. The Word (Logos): The first anchor is Scripture, the Logos—not just text on a page, but the divine, ordering Reason of God made tangible for us. It acts as the anchor that fixes the centerline’s position. When our feelings are chaotic and unreliable, the objective truth of God’s Word remains constant, reminding us of who God is and where our true north lies.
2. Prayer (Ruach): The second is Prayer, the work of the Ruach—the very breath of God, the active Spirit who realigns our inner life. If the Word fixes the center, prayer is the act of realigning our heart with that fixed center. It is the moment-by-moment conversation that consciously adjusts our internal compass to match God’s true direction.
3. The Character of Jesus (Agape): Finally, focusing on the nature of Jesus, on His self-giving love (Agape), is what allows us to return our gaze to the center when we have drifted. When we are lost in numbness or anxiety, meditating on His grace, His sacrifice, and His steadfast love is the beacon that calls us home. His character is the magnetic force that pulls our attention away from the waves and back to the anchor.
Together, these three anchors ensure that the overall direction of our spiritual wave, with all its ups and downs, is always oriented upward, toward God.
Conclusion: The Unchanging Center in a Changing Tide
Let me leave you with this powerful, reassuring truth: The low points will pass, and the high points will pass. But the center does not change.
The central message for us today is that a life of faith is not about achieving a flat line of emotional stability or eliminating the waves of experience. It is about anchoring ourselves to the unchanging person of Jesus Christ through a clear, intentional focus—a “purity” of direction. In our numbness, we willfully turn our gaze to Him. In our excitement, we intentionally moderate our focus to rest on Him alone.
And so, my prayer and blessing for all of us is this: may we learn to live our days on this “purity centerline,” finding our unchanging rest with our eyes fixed steadfastly on Jesus.
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