The thought occurs to me, as I work out this faith of mine with fear and trembling, that so often, I find it hard to believe. I’m not supposed to say this; I’m not supposed to doubt. I’m supposed to have a faith like Abraham, trusting, strong, true. I’m supposed to have a faith that moves mountains, that is stable, that is not like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. I have studied, I have read, I have prayed. This Christian worldview is the one that makes the most sense of the human condition, and so it should be easy to believe.
And yet, I doubt. I do. Almost constantly, it seems at times.
We’re studying Revelation this year in BSF. We’re just a few short chapters into the book, and, already, it’s hitting me anew just how crazy Christianity is. The major doctrines are so natural to me, so normal, growing up in the church as I have, but there are days when I step back, look at what my faith really teaches, and a part of me wants to agree with the skeptics, the world: Christians are an odd bunch.
Can I really take this seriously? Do I believe the claims it makes?
I ponder these questions and, sometimes, I feel as though I’m teetering on the brink, as though it’s all too fantastic, too crazy to actually be true, and one good push will topple me over the edge, into unbelief.
But then, but then.
But then, I show up at church on Sunday, and we sing together. We sing, “In your Kingdom, broken lives are made new,” and I close my eyes and think of all the times I’ve seen this come to pass, all the times I’ve known it to be true for others and for myself. We sing, “This is my prayer in my hunger and need: my God is the God who provides,” and I feel tears threaten, for I first learned these words when I most desperately needed Him to provide and somehow, in ways I couldn’t see at the time and still don’t understand today, He did. The preacher talks about forgiveness, about letting go of debts, and I am reminded again of how impossible this is to do in my own strength, of the fruits I’ve witnessed when believers truly live this out.
And I remember that no other worldview – no other Person – has this power, that nothing else can make sense of this world or this life.
And I know in my bones that Christianity is true.
I believe; help my unbelief.