Welcome to The Wildroot Parables weekly discussions! This is where we can come together as a community and have real talk with one another: open, honest, gracious, and curious.
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Today, let’s talk about our own doubts. Have you struggled with faith? Do you struggle with it now? And in the midst of your struggle—past or present—what has doubt taught you about life, about yourself, about God?
I don't describe my faith journey as one of doubt--that's not to say I was filled with confidence the whole time, but it was more like an unsolved puzzle. I have always had this sense that faith was important, but I always wanted to understand WHY. That journey, long and winding tho it may be, led me to where I am today.
My struggles today are more personal--grappling with how to contextualize bad things that happen or how to respond well to good things that happen. Faith is a very active and living thing, I feel like one can never be truly "finished" working on it. I certainly would be lying if I said I had all the answers but it has been an exercise in trust to realize that answers do exist!
These struggles, whatever form they take, have taught me about life that I have absolutely no control over it; have taught me about myself that I am stronger than I realize and not as strong as I could be if I relied totally on Christ; have taught me about God that He seems to like it when we take the first step but He will help us out after that point!
I suspect doubt has gotten a bum rap over the years. In some faith traditions, to admit doubt is to deviate from the accepted, approved path, with all the harsh consequences that can bring. Yet at the same time I wonder whether doubt can also be the catalyst for spiritual growth, the pebble in the shoe of my complacency, the trigger for closer examination. I guess if someone asked if I had doubts, I would say, "About what?" I won't go to the mat over arguments about the murky past or the unknowable future, and I can freely admit my skepticism about answers that are too pat, too tidy, too convenient, as though Faith's Big Issues might fit onto a bumper sticker. But the things about which I am certain -- God's wild love, Jesus's redeeming work, the Holy Spirit's encouragement and correction and persistent prodding, and me as a work in progress -- these, I think, are the hills to die on.
I was an avowed atheist for 10 years, until in my mid-twenties I began to revisit some of my old doubts. I guess I'm agnostic? I'm clearly in a place of questioning and doubt, but I haven't been able to fully commit to being Christian. I think my ongoing engagement with these questions suggests that there's a hidden 'yet' at the end of that sentence - time will tell.
You know, I've always been afraid of doubt. I thought that if I allowed doubt into my heart, then I would lose my faith. I guess that's a feeling I'm still trying to...what? Shake? Analyze? Well, I guess it's one I haven't totally given up. But, what I have grown into a little more is the idea that doubt isn't something I should fear, and it also isn't something I necessarily have to completely embrace, either. It's a bit like the spider on my wall. Maybe this is silly, but I've worked hard over the last few years to befriend spiders and not be completely creeped out by them. Before, I'd see them and squish them or vacuum them, all while dancing the heebie jeebies. Now, I keep my eye on them (I don't like them ON me!), but I say hello and watch and appreciate the work they do. So, maybe I won't snuggle up close with my doubts, but perhaps I'll say hello and keep an eye on them, to see what they have to teach me.
Jul 30, 2023·edited Jul 30, 2023Liked by S.E. Reid
I remember reading THE PRINCESS BRIDE, that monologue where the narrator realizes that life is not fair, and never will be, and wanted to dance, because that realization took all the pressure off. Pure existentialism. And saying to myself, Yeah, that makes sense to me.
I had a friend's sister say almost the exact opposite thing, that her conversion to evangelical Christianity meant that she didn't have to be afraid to die. Certainty as armor against doubt, and how comforting that could be. Not for me, but I could see the appeal.
I don't describe my faith journey as one of doubt--that's not to say I was filled with confidence the whole time, but it was more like an unsolved puzzle. I have always had this sense that faith was important, but I always wanted to understand WHY. That journey, long and winding tho it may be, led me to where I am today.
My struggles today are more personal--grappling with how to contextualize bad things that happen or how to respond well to good things that happen. Faith is a very active and living thing, I feel like one can never be truly "finished" working on it. I certainly would be lying if I said I had all the answers but it has been an exercise in trust to realize that answers do exist!
These struggles, whatever form they take, have taught me about life that I have absolutely no control over it; have taught me about myself that I am stronger than I realize and not as strong as I could be if I relied totally on Christ; have taught me about God that He seems to like it when we take the first step but He will help us out after that point!
I suspect doubt has gotten a bum rap over the years. In some faith traditions, to admit doubt is to deviate from the accepted, approved path, with all the harsh consequences that can bring. Yet at the same time I wonder whether doubt can also be the catalyst for spiritual growth, the pebble in the shoe of my complacency, the trigger for closer examination. I guess if someone asked if I had doubts, I would say, "About what?" I won't go to the mat over arguments about the murky past or the unknowable future, and I can freely admit my skepticism about answers that are too pat, too tidy, too convenient, as though Faith's Big Issues might fit onto a bumper sticker. But the things about which I am certain -- God's wild love, Jesus's redeeming work, the Holy Spirit's encouragement and correction and persistent prodding, and me as a work in progress -- these, I think, are the hills to die on.
I was an avowed atheist for 10 years, until in my mid-twenties I began to revisit some of my old doubts. I guess I'm agnostic? I'm clearly in a place of questioning and doubt, but I haven't been able to fully commit to being Christian. I think my ongoing engagement with these questions suggests that there's a hidden 'yet' at the end of that sentence - time will tell.
You know, I've always been afraid of doubt. I thought that if I allowed doubt into my heart, then I would lose my faith. I guess that's a feeling I'm still trying to...what? Shake? Analyze? Well, I guess it's one I haven't totally given up. But, what I have grown into a little more is the idea that doubt isn't something I should fear, and it also isn't something I necessarily have to completely embrace, either. It's a bit like the spider on my wall. Maybe this is silly, but I've worked hard over the last few years to befriend spiders and not be completely creeped out by them. Before, I'd see them and squish them or vacuum them, all while dancing the heebie jeebies. Now, I keep my eye on them (I don't like them ON me!), but I say hello and watch and appreciate the work they do. So, maybe I won't snuggle up close with my doubts, but perhaps I'll say hello and keep an eye on them, to see what they have to teach me.
I remember reading THE PRINCESS BRIDE, that monologue where the narrator realizes that life is not fair, and never will be, and wanted to dance, because that realization took all the pressure off. Pure existentialism. And saying to myself, Yeah, that makes sense to me.
I had a friend's sister say almost the exact opposite thing, that her conversion to evangelical Christianity meant that she didn't have to be afraid to die. Certainty as armor against doubt, and how comforting that could be. Not for me, but I could see the appeal.