I’m thankful that You can handle when I have doubts.
Because I’m going to be honest; this whole Christian thing? I’m not always great at it. In fact, most days I feel like a complete failure. I do all the things I shouldn’t, and don’t do nearly enough of the things I probably should. I don’t talk to You all the time; usually when things are getting to be pretty rough is when You hear from me the most.
Yet something I don’t like to admit, something that lurks underneath all the typical struggles that Christians tend to grapple with in the day to day, is the fact that sometimes, I have doubts.
I have a lot of them, on my worst days.
Yet even on my good days, it creeps in. I wonder if You hear me. If I’m insane, for trusting in someone I can’t see, who I can’t always wrap my mind around or adequately explain. I wonder if when I pray, if it truly makes a difference- or if my voice just fades away into the atmosphere, joining a never ending chorus of background noise and desperate cries hoping for something to get better.
And when I feel like this, when I finally admit to myself that I have questions that don’t always have answers, and that I’m uncertain on how I feel about that, guilt hits me like a train. Wave after wave of crushing statements hit me, “You should never doubt Him, look at all He’s done for you!”, “You were raised in church, you shouldn’t even have to wonder.”, “Look at him, look at her- they are deeply connected with God and they don’t have any doubts at all!”
And so I breath and I shove them to the bottom of my mind, until the next time. I wonder. I feel the guilt. I push it down. I repeat. And to be truthful, it’s exhausting. I’ve done this for several years, and it’s enough to make me want to breakdown and lose my mind.
And then I remember- this is You I’m talking about.
You, who has been big enough to get me through some of the most insurmountable situations I’ve ever faced. You, who created universes and set the world into motion, who spoke and things came to be. You, who has never turned away from me, no matter how far I ran.
And if I can recognize these things, if I can step back and take into account that You are capable and have done such crazy things, then how can I not think that You could handle me when I have doubts? To listen to me while I vent my frustrations, confusion, and even questions on everything I have believed? Have you not done even crazier things, bolder things than this?
You know I have a curious mind, and an anxious heart. You know that I think 27 steps ahead and take off running before I’ve even managed to look at where I am right now. You know that I am always trying to help and to find all the possible solutions to any situation I’m faced with. You created me. You know me.
So all of this: my doubts, my fears, my confusion, it’s no surprise to you. I know you’ve honestly been expecting it.
So I know it’s okay if I tell You exactly what is on my mind- You aren’t shaken. You aren’t offended. You aren’t going to shame me for not always understanding or for questioning things. You’re big enough to handle it, and that it’s okay for me to let you take the weight of things for awhile. Because all too often, I worry it’s not. Yet I can only do so much. I can’t always hold it together. I can’t always pretend that I am confidently walking forward on this journey, when in reality I have had questions about the last three exits I’ve taken. I can’t keep smiling until my face hurts on Sunday mornings pretending that I am on the same level as everyone else, because I know that I’m not.
Yet to know that You already know this, and love me anyway? To know that as much as my own doubts scare me and shake me to my core, that they don’t do that to You? It’s one of the most reassuring things in the world.
So I’ll probably scream things and break down and ask You dozens of questions. I’ll get angry, I’ll be hurt, I’ll be completely and utterly broken in a way I can’t manage to do with anyone else.
And I’m thankful that You can handle this, even when I know I can’t.