Day 3 - God, Can We Chat?

“Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here, and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!’ ‘My Lord and my God!’ Thomas exclaimed.” (John 20:27-28, NLT)

Sadly (or is it thankfully?) real life isn’t a Hallmark movie. Don’t get me wrong. I love a happy ending as much as the next person, but wouldn’t it be a relief if our assumptions and misunderstandings about each other and God didn’t get a chance to do their destructive work and drive a wedge between us? Because when they do, our relationships suffer and our happy endings fail to materialize. When I’ve had a rubbish day and all I want to do is download to my hubby, Al, the moment he walks through the door, but he seems distant and uninterested, I retreat to the bathtub to brood, assuming he doesn’t care. Yet the truth is often less sinister—he’s had a rough day too, is running on fumes, and just needs a moment to regroup. But by the time I’m immersed in bubbles, the damage has been done.

We might not call them lies (it sounds a bit harsh), but the unquestioned assumptions we live by hold power. Inside these unchallenged perceptions are the deep, cancerous threads of what kind of person we are (too much, not enough, a failure, disorganized, shy), who God is (harsh, fickle, uncaring), and how he feels about us (disappointed, ashamed, mad, or ambivalent). There are even ingrained lies about the doubts themselves (they’re destructive, unholy, or unchristian) and whether it’s wise to admit them to God (nope, not a good idea) or anyone else (no again). No matter the lie or where it comes from, it holds relationship-crippling potential. If lies excel at anything, it’s creating fear and wrecking communication.

Daring to doubt has given me the chance to reevaluate my long-held assumptions about doubting. Not because my relationship with God is suddenly bombproof and I’ve gained Solomon-worthy levels of holy wisdom. Quite the opposite. Becoming increasingly lost and distant from God, while coming to the end of myself and nearly chucking it all in, afforded me a frightening glimpse of the end of my faith. Only then was I scared enough to ask myself, What’s really holding me back?

Unnamed and unquestioned lies may remain silent, but they’re never powerless. Driving us forward, they determine how we think, feel, and respond to the world and to God. These myths persuade us that talking to God about all we carry is a Very. Bad. Idea. When actually, it’s the best thing we can do. Which is why many wiser people than me, like Emily P. Freeman, encourage us to pay attention to what is happening in the unseen places of our souls and name the unnamed.^a

Only when we’ve named the unnamed can we question the unquestioned and reclaim the power the lies have wielded unhindered. Then and only then do the whispers of deceit ushering us away from God, daring us to go it alone, fall quiet. So let’s ask . . .

Are our unquestioned assumptions about doubt and whether we can take them to God, true or just a load of hogwash?

Here are some of the ones you might wrestle with in the same way I have:

• I’m the only one
• I can’t tell God that!
• I have to choose — faith or doubt
• I can’t question God
• I need proof and answers to be sure

Take a moment with God to question each one using the prayer format below.

The Myth: I need proof and answers to be sure.

The Mantra: In my doubts, Jesus calls me blessed.

The Reminder: Just as Jesus invited Thomas to poke around in his blood-stained wounds, unfazed by his disciple’s doubts, he does the same for us, calling us blessed for believing despite our doubts and without the same in-person opportunity. Taking our doubts to Jesus leads to God’s blessing, not the silence or anger we fear.