DOUBTING WHO?
THE OLDER I GET THE MORE it seems I will never outgrow doubt. It is as much a part of me as my faith is. I wait to be surprised by God while I wonder if that surprise will ever come.
I SUPPOSE IT’S TO BE EXPECTED. I can’t see God. Just one little peek, and my doubts would be eliminated forever. But maybe not. Consider Ezekiel. He saw God.
OF COURSE, SHORTLY THEREAFTER EZEKIEL shaved his head and burned his hair; laid on his side; cooked his meals on a cow dung fire; and was struck mute. Hmmm. Maybe seeing God isn’t such a good idea. He seems dangerous. Maybe I’d be better off using my doubts to build my faith.
THESE ARE TRYING TIMES. I’m forced once again to contemplate my own mortality. I’m challenged by a new wave of tumors that are making themselves painfully present and forcing me to search a broad field for treatment options that I’d hoped to never have to do. I seem closer to a precipice than I like, and I’m thankful for the prayers of my friends whose kindness reminds me that I am not alone.
UNFORTUNATELY, IT ALSO REMINDS ME that none of us is in charge.
BUT IT’S OKAY. When I was younger, I demanded more of God. Like Job, I wanted answers. I’ve grown more comfortable with un-answers. The mystery seems appropriate. It’s beyond my understanding, and at some point I need to stop banging my head against the unknowable.
GOD HAS HAD PLENTY OF CHANCES to give me the answers to all those universally asked questions, but He hasn’t. Perhaps my knowing the answers doesn’t seem important to Him. To Him I must sound like that cranky three-year-old in her car seat asking Why about everything. Because I say so, is His answer. And believe me, I do not want Him to stop the car!
I MUST LEAVE BEHIND THE DOUBT that for me comes with loving a God I cannot see and try instead to prepare myself and my world for whatever treatment awaits me . . . wondering how I will be surprised by Him.
AND ALTHOUGH I MAY ALTERNATE between doubt and faith, I don’t have to be afraid. I’ve read how kind Jesus was to others who doubted like Peter, Thomas, the father of the epileptic boy, even Judas.
IF DOUBT IS A SIN, hopefully, it ranks low on His scale. I know that when I doubt I make myself miserable, and perhaps that is punishment enough.
You’re blessed. Be a blessing!
I SUPPOSE IT’S TO BE EXPECTED. I can’t see God. Just one little peek, and my doubts would be eliminated forever. But maybe not. Consider Ezekiel. He saw God.
OF COURSE, SHORTLY THEREAFTER EZEKIEL shaved his head and burned his hair; laid on his side; cooked his meals on a cow dung fire; and was struck mute. Hmmm. Maybe seeing God isn’t such a good idea. He seems dangerous. Maybe I’d be better off using my doubts to build my faith.
THESE ARE TRYING TIMES. I’m forced once again to contemplate my own mortality. I’m challenged by a new wave of tumors that are making themselves painfully present and forcing me to search a broad field for treatment options that I’d hoped to never have to do. I seem closer to a precipice than I like, and I’m thankful for the prayers of my friends whose kindness reminds me that I am not alone.
UNFORTUNATELY, IT ALSO REMINDS ME that none of us is in charge.
BUT IT’S OKAY. When I was younger, I demanded more of God. Like Job, I wanted answers. I’ve grown more comfortable with un-answers. The mystery seems appropriate. It’s beyond my understanding, and at some point I need to stop banging my head against the unknowable.
GOD HAS HAD PLENTY OF CHANCES to give me the answers to all those universally asked questions, but He hasn’t. Perhaps my knowing the answers doesn’t seem important to Him. To Him I must sound like that cranky three-year-old in her car seat asking Why about everything. Because I say so, is His answer. And believe me, I do not want Him to stop the car!
I MUST LEAVE BEHIND THE DOUBT that for me comes with loving a God I cannot see and try instead to prepare myself and my world for whatever treatment awaits me . . . wondering how I will be surprised by Him.
AND ALTHOUGH I MAY ALTERNATE between doubt and faith, I don’t have to be afraid. I’ve read how kind Jesus was to others who doubted like Peter, Thomas, the father of the epileptic boy, even Judas.
IF DOUBT IS A SIN, hopefully, it ranks low on His scale. I know that when I doubt I make myself miserable, and perhaps that is punishment enough.
You’re blessed. Be a blessing!
posted by Chronic Hope at 5:52 PM
1 Comments:
Your article in the Nov. Meth. Reporter was just what I needed one rainy Sunday morning. Thank you, and I am praying for you. Susan L. (Tulsa, OK)
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