When I struggle with doubt, my instincts run one of two ways.
- I turn into a mad woman, planning all the plans.
- I fall apart and start to question everything.
Inevitably, I vacillate between the two. I reach the end of my strength and abilities and have nothing left. Because I have nothing left, I make more plans and goals and prod myself to meet them.
Lately, though, I find a third response: crying out to God. I wouldn’t say it’s pretty, and my words ring with doubt. They go like this:
“What are You doing, God? I don’t understand. I thought I was where You wanted me to be. What are You doing?”
I probably sound little better than the Israelites moaning in the wilderness. “Did You bring us out here to kill us? Did You?”
And yet, I’m crying out to him. Perhaps it indicates a shift, some sort of growth. I reach out to God first instead of filling out job applications or sending a flurry of emails. I fall apart still, but I fall apart into him because of one, simple-deep truth: Immanuel. God with us. God with me.
He doesn’t leave me alone. He knows precisely where I am and what I’m going through. God knows my heart when I can’t find the words to express what it’s feeling. He hears me, even through my angry, doubt-ridden pleas. God remains God, and God is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-providing, and all-caring.
When I doubt those truths, I think of Philippians 4:19. Paul says, “And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” But here’s the thing about that verse:
- Paul wrote it while sitting in a jail cell, not knowing if he would live to see another year.
- He wrote it while recalling how he had learned to “get along with humble means, and how to live in prosperity.”
- He wrote it because he had found the true and only source of confidence and hope: Jesus. Through Jesus who strengthened him, Paul could do and endure all things.
So can I. Doubt will arise in my mind and heart again; it always does. However, I know the secret to combatting it: crying out to God and resting in who he says he is and what he has done, is doing, and will do. In him, I have peace no matter how rough or murky the road ahead gets.
Image: Adrian Sampson (Creative Commons)