I have a confession.
One that is hard to write.
One that leaves a lump in my throat, a pit in my stomach and an ache in my head.
I am a doubter. I love my Jesus. I love my Abba. But I doubt.
I doubt everything I’ve ever been taught. I doubt the rules and theological teachings. I doubt this thing called Christianity. And I wrestle with it more times than I care to admit.
I find myself stretching to find the authenticity of Abraham’s faith. I find myself writing words of lament at a God I serve but don’t understand and can’t quite accurately name. I find myself wanting to be faithful to the one who loves me but keep wandering away. I find myself standing at the well, fully of cynicism and skepticism, questioning. I find myself on the ground, accused, face in the ground, waiting for my impending sentence of death. I find myself in so many stories, yet I doubt what I read.
I keep coming back to the same thing. I can’t let go of my faith and yet I keep trying to fling it as far as the east is from the west.
As I write the stories from my childhood on paper, it is harder to silence the nagging doubt…the cynical questions…the anger at a faith that abused me and spit me out and calls me lost. The journey is taking a toll on me and I am having a hard time processing it. Those who know me either tell me to “get over it” or to just “give up and free my mind”. Neither of those things are workable for me.
I NEED to find peace with my doubt. I NEED to find my voice and say that what happened to me is NOT what Abba intended for me. I MUST go through this, because the only way through healing is to jump into the thing that’s causing the pain, address it and remove it.
I’m reminded of the father who asked Jesus to heal his son, IF he could. I love Jesus’s response. “What? If I can? Anything is possible if you just believe.” And in the father’s words I see myself. “The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”
I do believe that I am Redeemed. I do believe that my Abba loves me. I do believe that my Jesus walks with me everyday, and that he’s there in my darkest nights. But that’s all I believe. The rest is doubt and unbelief. And like the father of the demon-possessed boy I’m asking my father, please help my unbelief.