When the world wobbles, hold fast
- Lindsay Caplen

- Nov 11
- 4 min read
Does it feel as though we are living in strange days? Uncertainty everywhere. A cost-of-living squeeze. Politics that serves to divide rather than unite. And underneath it all – a quiet weariness. Many have lost trust in leaders, institutions, and sometimes even in each other.
But here’s the thing: moments like this are exactly when the church comes into its own. The church was born in shaky times. The apostle Peter did not walk in calm waters but stepped out into a raging storm![1] Somehow, amidst it all, those first followers became known as people of hope.

That’s our calling too. Not to stoke the flames of mistrust and fear, nor to seek to escape or hide away from uncertainty. Rather, when the world wobbles, we are to hold fast, to courageously stand, and even to walk amidst the storms.
Perhaps this is the time for a rebirth/a renewal of the church.
Faith that keeps pressing on
The book of Hebrews says faith is ‘confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.’ [2] It’s trusting that Jesus hasn’t gone to sleep and stopped working[3], even when we can’t make sense of what’s going on. True faith doesn’t deny the ferocity of the wind, the waves and the circumstances, but it chooses not to focus on them; instead, it re-orients its gaze to look upon the wonder and beauty of our Lord Jesus, who calls us to press onwards.
That’s the kind of faith the world needs to see modelled right now – Steady. Courageous. Honest. Real. A faith that doesn’t flinch at bad news, but that trusts that Jesus is still Lord, and that His Kingdom is still coming!
A more wonder-filled story
It’s easy to let the world’s distrust and fear creep into the church. We get over-cautious. We assume the worst. Our differences automatically become divisions. We withdraw. But our life together can tell a more wonder-filled story - when we speak truthfully and graciously, forgive freely, serve humbly and above all fix our eyes on Jesus and let his Spirit guide our life together. Then something beautiful can happen – trust grows again, wounds start to heal, fractured relationships start being woven together, and people step more fully into their identity in Christ. Not because God’s people get everything right, but because the grace and love we share make room for imperfect people to belong.
Jesus said that the world would recognise us by our love, not our polish.[4] So, let’s be communities where people can breathe again. What binds us – Jesus and his mission – is stronger than anything that might seek to tear us apart.
Hope that acts
Christian hope is not wishful thinking – it’s a way of life. We believe in the resurrection, so let’s equip and encourage one another to live every part of our lives in ways that demonstrate that we actually do. Then, when fear drives people to hoard, we stay generous. When we might be tempted to focus on preserving our own entitlements or freedoms, we might instead prioritise a focus on living out our responsibilities. When outrage fills the headlines, we practise gentleness. When loneliness isolates, we open our doors. For hope takes shape in small, faithful choices like a shared meal, a prayer whispered, an invitation to gossip turned down, a friendship rebuilt.
None of it feels headline-worthy, but that’s exactly how light breaks into the darkness. Every small act of grace, every choice to live as resurrection people, serves to push back the despair and proclaims, ‘The story is not over yet!’
Anchored and advancing
The cross is still our anchor. When everything else feels shaky, the cross reminds us that God can bring victory out of death, healing through pain and a renewed identity through loss. Hope doesn’t deny the wounds - instead, it carries them, just like the risen Christ - and just like the risen Christ, hope keeps on walking.
Maybe God is using this season – all its uncertainty and humbling - to form a deeper, truer, more Christ-like church. A church less focused on image and more rooted in love. Less anxious about its rights and own survival than it is about its responsibilities toward others and being alive to the life and work of the Holy Spirit. Less concerned with buildings and programmes and more about presence – equipping and sending people to be a light on every street and bring grace and truth into every context and conversation.
That kind of church can withstand any shaking[5], because its focus and anchor is the rock - Jesus, not the circumstances, however tumultuous, that surround.
So, here’s my prayer…
That we would be a people of credible hope – looking to Jesus, living in the light and life of the Spirit, faithful in worship, steady in trouble, generous in grace and love.
When trust feels fragile, we might seek to rebuild it
That we will never respond out of a negative place of fear or defensiveness, but rather that we would respond from a place of love and hope, and our belief in a more wonder-filled way…. the humble way of the cross.
So that if the world grows darker, our light won’t flicker, but instead will shine all the brighter
Not because we are strong, but because Christ is risen!
For the sake of Jesus and for the sake of the world!
Amen!
‘May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.’ (Romans 15:13)
We don’t know what’s ahead, but we know who goes with us. Let’s keep walking – eyes up, full of hope – not in the world, but in Christ Jesus, the one who is more than able to completely save, even in the fiercest of storms.
With much love and prayer,
Lindsay Caplen
Regional Minister
[1] Matthew 14:22-33
[2] Hebrews 11:1
[3] Mark 4: 38-40
[4] John 13:35
[5] Hebrews 12:27



Comments