The Stuttering Believer

One of the worst things you can do as a believer is to compare your spiritual growth with another believer’s. I’ve been guilty of looking at the spiritual progress of my Christian friends, walking out boldly in their callings, aligning their lives with God’s purpose for them and thinking, “What about me? Shouldn’t I be where they are by now?” I still wrestle with inconsistency in my quiet time, and if I’m honest with myself, I could spend less time binge-watching my favourite series and more time in the Word. Lustful thoughts creep in more often than I care to admit. And sometimes, what I justify as “harmless” white lies reveal a deeper struggle with honesty and fear and childhood scars from insecurity and rejection. It’s frustrating. My obsessing over these things is not because I am trying or expecting to be perfect but because I genuinely want to be more like Christ.

Sitting at my desk this morning, thinking about the work day ahead, the Holy Spirit gently reminded me of an important truth. I recalled an analogy I had encountered previously in church but now understood in a way I hadn’t before. The analogy is that spiritual transformation tends to be somewhat tedious, much like peeling an onion unlike the sudden change we often expect akin to flipping a switch. Each delicate layer of the onion represents the gradual, sometimes painful shedding of old habits and beliefs, inviting a deeper understanding of growth that is less about instant change and more about the slow, intentional unfolding of one’s true self. Some layers can feel thick and heavy, creating a mess that’s hard to ignore. When we manage to peel those away, the transformation becomes clearly visible, both to ourselves and others. Yet, some layers are subtle and almost transparent, which are easy to overlook but equally important to shed. Just like peeling an onion, this process requires time and patience, and it’s natural to bring up some tears along the way. It’s all part of the journey toward clarity and growth.

In 2 Corinthians 3:18, the Apostle Paul tells us, “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” This verse makes it clear that transformation is a process – from one degree of glory to another. Not Instant, not effortless, but Spirit-led. In Philippians 1:6, Paul offers reassurance: “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” This is God’s promise to us, reminding us that while the process may feel slow or invisible at times, He has started a good work in us and will see it through to completion. You are not alone on this path; there is hope and purpose in every step.

Sanctification is a gradual and intentional journey. Rather than a sprint toward holiness, it is a daily commitment to walking alongside the One who makes us holy. The Holy Spirit is continually at work, even when we may not notice significant changes; He is carefully peeling away our imperfections, pruning our character, and refining our hearts. Our part in this transformation is to stay committed and trust the process. Paul captures this tension so well in Romans 7:18–20, saying, “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” This inner tug-of-war is all too familiar, but we can seek comfort in Paul, pointing us back to Christ, the One who liberates us from our struggles and empowers us to live freely.

Yes, there are days when the peeling hurts. There are moments when we wonder if we’re regressing or just going in circles. But even those moments are not wasted. Galatians 5:17 reminds us that the very presence of the struggle is evidence of the Spirit’s presence and that we are no longer comfortable in sin or at peace with our old selves.

This journey of sanctification is long. But it is holy. And it is sure. In Christ, we have already been declared righteous, even as we are being made righteous each day. I remind myself to take it slow. It’s okay to weep if you need to, but don’t give up. The Holy Spirit is still working on you, and He isn’t done with you yet.