How to Have a Faith That Pleases God

Many people receive a promise from God—through scripture, prayer, or a moment of clarity—only to forget it when life becomes difficult. Pete Farrington tackled this uncomfortable reality head-on, and his honesty about his own struggles made it land even harder.

This isn’t a talk about mustering up more faith through sheer willpower. It’s about understanding what faith actually is, why trusting God can feel so difficult, and what it looks like when belief genuinely changes the way we live. Spoiler: it involves a chair.

The Storm That Stripped Everything Away

The passage Pete unpacked was Acts 27—Paul's voyage and shipwreck on his way to Rome. It's a technical chapter full of nautical details that you might be tempted to skim read. But beneath the surface, it reveals something profound about human nature and what God is like.

Paul had advised them not to set sail. He wasn't speaking as a prophet—just sharing his opinion as an experienced traveller who had already been shipwrecked three times. He knew sailing in this season was dangerous. But unsurprisingly, the centurion listened to the ship's owner and captain instead. They had more to lose if the ship didn't make it to Rome on time.

Things went from bad to worse. The crew tried multiple strategies to change their fortunes, but nothing worked. And then we read this devastating line in verse 20: "All hope of our being saved was at last abandoned."

Everything had been stripped away—their skill, their expertise, their status, their cargo, their tackle. They were just at the mercy of the waves.

The Promise Paul Had Already Received

Here's where it gets interesting. God had already told Paul he wasn't going to die in this storm.

Back in Acts 23, when Paul was imprisoned in Jerusalem, the Lord appeared to him and said: "Take courage, for as you have testified to the facts about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome."

Paul hadn't made it to Rome yet. It wasn't his time. That promise was given to strengthen his heart in the midst of the storm—if he would remember it.

Pete asked a question that stung: "How often is that the case: that we enjoy the benefits of a promise once and then we have no memory of it the next time we are in need?"

When Doubting God Should Shock Us

Pete shared a quote from Charles Spurgeon that cuts deep:

"It is just staggering that we should ever find it difficult to believe God. If our hearts and minds were as they should be, faith in God would just be a matter of course. And it ought to need a crushing argument to persuade us to entertain even the slightest doubt of God."

Spurgeon went further. He said if we were to say of a neighbour, "I find it hard to believe him," we couldn't say anything worse about that person. And then imagine a child saying of their father—a father in high repute—"I find it quite a struggle to believe him."

"Will that not bring forth from us the blush of shame and the tear of repentance," Spurgeon says, "to think that we would have ever spoken thus of God, our Father? Is there any proof of our fall more conclusive than this?"

That's uncomfortable. But it's also liberating, because it means our struggle to trust isn't unique—it's deeply human. And God knows it.

A Father Who Doesn't Roll His Eyes

Pete pointed to Psalm 103: "As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame. He remembers that we are dust."

God knows how feeble and weak and forgetful we can be. And we see his patience beautifully when he appears to Paul again in the midst of the storm. He could have rolled his eyes—"Here we go again, they're doubting me." But instead he says: "Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you."

One of the major patterns threading through the entire Bible is God repeating his promises again and again to his people. Over and over. And time and again, his people give into doubt and forget and take matters into their own hands. Almost immediately. Almost every time.

But God does not stop reminding them of the words he has spoken.

The Chair You Have to Actually Sit On

Pete used an analogy: faith is like believing in the person who made a chair.

If you bought a chair and the maker said, "This chair can support your weight, it won't collapse beneath you, I am a skilled worker, I use only the best materials"—believing in God is like believing that person. If you believe what he said, you can actually sit on the chair and have faith it will hold you.

"It actually impacts the way that you live," Pete said.

There's a difference between believing God exists and believing God. Many people—even Satan—have no trouble believing God exists while being utterly opposed to him. But the question isn't intellectual assent. It's trust. Do you believe him? And does that belief change how you respond to situations?

Job put it like this: "Though he slay me, yet I will hope in him." That's the kind of faith that trusts God's nature and character even in the darkest trials.

When Pete's World Got Shaken

Pete got personal. He shared that his family had been going through a storm of their own—a visa application for his wife rejected right before Christmas, at the tail end of her current residence card. Stressful conversations with solicitors, writing letters, trying to figure out next steps.

In the midst of it, he'd been reflecting on Isaiah 7, where God gives a sign to King Ahaz: "Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel—God with us."

"Do I believe that God is with me?" Pete asked. "Or do I just give into panic? Do I believe that God is with me in such a way that it actually changes the way that I respond to situations? And if not, do I really believe it?"

That's the challenge. That's what faith looks like when it sits in the chair.

Hanging Your Soul on His Word

Pete closed with another Spurgeon quote: "Did not the Lord hang the world upon nothing but his word? And cannot we hang our souls there too? It is grand to stand like the arch of heaven, unpillared and yet unmoved, resting only on the invisible God."

All of reality is resting on a promise—that God will be true to his word, that he will be true to himself, that he will not change. Heaven and earth will pass away, but his words will not pass away.

And just as the Israelites watched the waters of the sea crash over their enemies, God has cast our sins into the depths of the sea. He's put them at the bottom, just as he said he would.

"So today," Pete said, "you can hang your soul on his word, the word of his promise. You can trust that he is good, that he is faithful, that he's powerful, and that he will do everything that he has said he will do."

Conversation Street

Why do we listen to experts over God?

Ruth kicked off the discussion by noting that the captain listened to the ship owner instead of Paul—and how that mirrors today. "People don't listen to God because they think somebody who's got a degree or somebody who's written all these books knows what they're talking about. But God knows more than anybody else because he started everything off."

Does God roll his eyes at us?

Ruth admitted she'd been thinking exactly that—"God, you must be rolling your eyes at me again." But Pete's point landed: God doesn't respond like that. He knows our frame. He remembers we are dust. And he keeps reminding us of his promises without exasperation.

How does belief actually change your life?

Dan noted that belief leads to trust—the more we experience God, the more we can trust. Ruth shared a story about her terrible sense of direction. "If I had relied on my sense of direction, there's no way I would have stepped out the door, let alone got on a plane. But I trusted God would get me where he said. And he always did."

What about the sins we keep dredging up?

The discussion touched on Pete's point about God casting our sins into the depths of the sea. Dan asked the obvious question: "He's forgotten about them. Why do we bring them back up?" It's another area where sitting on the chair—actually trusting what God has said—changes everything.

Your Next Step

Here are some practical ways to engage with this:

1. Remember what God has already said – What promises has God given you that you've forgotten in the current storm? Write them down. Keep them visible.

2. Actually sit on the chair – Ask yourself Pete's question: Do I believe God is with me in a way that changes how I respond? If not, what would change if I did?

3. Stop dredging – If God has cast your sins into the depths of the sea, stop diving for them. They're dealt with. Believe it.

4. Prove God this week – Ruth's challenge: ask God what he wants you to do, then step out. Be prepared—he takes requests seriously.

5. Read the stories – If you're struggling to trust, read testimonies. The Bible is full of them. So is the Crowd Church podcast "What's The Story."

The Invitation

Paul said something remarkable in the midst of the storm: "I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told."

That's the invitation. Not to generate more faith through effort, but to take God at his word. To sit on the chair. To hang your soul on his promise.

Because a promise is only of benefit to you if you believe it.