Faith and horror

In his book Crazy Love, Francis Chan says he is writing for those who would rather die before their convictions do (p21), a sentiment that greatly appeals to me – reminding me of Philippians 1:21. Chan challenges Christians to move beyond a lukewarm faith and start giving our best to God rather than offering the leftovers of our lives to our creator.

I read another book over Christmas, about a teenager with deep devotion to God. The book is Night by Elie Wiesel, who was 15 when he arrived at Auschwitz. He writes:

Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed.

Never shall I forget that smoke.
Never shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw transformed into smoke under a silent sky.
Never shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live.
Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes.
Never shall I forget those things, even were I condemned to live as long as God Himself.
Never.

Reading ‘Night’ has rocked my perception of the world and causes me to have grave concerns about the nature of my faith – what would suffering truly do to my faith?

Reading ‘Crazy Love’ deepened my concerns – is my faith real? If it is real, why is there so little fruit?