Can you love someone you can’t see? I think so. Parents love a child before they can make heads-or-tails of the ultrasound. Soldiers carry pictures through deserts. Long‑distance couples count sleeps.

You don’t need eyes on to have your heart in. Peter says that’s normal for Christians:

“Though you have not seen him, you love him… Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (1 Peter 1:8–9, ESV).

Love first. Sight later. That’s not make‑believe; that’s the shape of discipleship in the world we live in—a world between resurrections.

Naturally, we still wish for proof on demand. “If Jesus would walk through the wall like He did for Thomas, then I’d never struggle again!” Right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Peter is writing to scattered, suffering believers who had zero chance at a locked‑room appearance from Jesus. No framed photo. No video. Just good news: the crucified Jesus is alive. Just promises. Just the Spirit. And get this: the church didn’t wither; it exploded.

Apparently, you can love an unseen Lord with all you’ve got.

But how could that be?

It’s because faith isn’t pretending. It’s not a second-best plan B (behind seeing Jesus in bodily form). Faith is trusting a Person enough to move in His direction—sometimes before you feel it. It looks like affection (you love Him), allegiance (you obey Him), and anticipation (you expect Him to keep His word).

Affection without allegiance is sentiment. Allegiance without affection is cold duty. Anticipation without the first two is just wishful thinking. Peter’s sentence above holds all three in one breath.

But what does loving an unseen Savior look like on a Tuesday? Three simple moves:

1. Remember when you were sure. Not the fireworks night—though those matter—but the quiet days you obeyed and only later saw why.
   
   The apology you dreaded but gave anyway.
   The budget you tightened so you could give, and then God cracked open contentment you didn’t know you could feel.
   The morning you opened Scripture when you felt nothing—and the verse that met you at lunch.  
   
   Those are not small memories. They are stones of remembrance. Pick one up today and say it out loud. “Lord, I remember when You…” Memory can fuel affection.
   
   
2. Borrow someone else’s story. When your tank is low, don’t stare at the gauge—pull into community.
   
   Thomas had questions, but he was in the room the next week. Ask a friend to tell you what God did for them this year. Not a vague “God is good,” but a concrete grace.
   
   Doubt shrinks when it is not alone with itself. You’re allowed to say, “I’m low today. Tell me again.”
   
   
3. Put your weight on one promise. Not five. One.
   
   Carry it in your pocket. Say it at stoplights. Pray it before the meeting:
   
   “I am with you always” (Matt. 28:20).
   “He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it” (1 Thess. 5:24).
   “Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7).
   
   Promises aren’t motivational quotes. They can become the rails your day runs on.

 

Naming the Enemies

In order for this to happen, we’ll need to name some enemies that don’t want it to. First, let’s talk about feelings. Peter doesn’t say “you feel Him”; he says “you love Him.”

Love is a decision to move toward a Person, and feelings often follow motion. Call it spiritual lag. Like the sun warming the ground—light first, heat later.

Keep walking towards Jesus and your feelings will catch up.

Then there’s this one: cynicism dressed like intelligence. It sounds like this: “I’m just being honest; I can’t believe without seeing.” Honesty is good. Jesus met Thomas in it.

But cynicism is honesty without humility—questions that never risk obedience. If you only trust what you can verify in a lab, you will shrink your soul to the size of your senses.

You were made for more than what fits under a microscope.

A third danger is nostalgia. “If I could just get back to that camp, that conference, that church…” God bless the places He met you, but you aren’t trying to walk back to a room; you’re walking forward with a Person. Peter’s readers had no “upper room” to go back to—and they had more joy than they knew how to describe.

Your faith isn’t an album to look back at; it’s a journey to walk forward in.

So let’s practice today with tiny courage.

• Name one honest question.
• Write it in a single sentence.
• Ask Jesus out loud.
• Then take the next obedient step anyway—pray, serve, read, encourage somebody. Faith grows in motion. If your legs feel wobbly, borrow faith. Text a friend: “I’m choosing trust today. Tell me again what God did for you.”

Pray this with me: Jesus, sometimes I can’t see You, but I love You. Guard me from cynicism, free me from nostalgia, and help me trust You today. I trust You to finish what You started.

Walk by faith. He may be unseen, but He is not absent. And He sees you perfectly.