The closer you get — the more draw near to the Lord — the more prone you are to attack. I have heard this concept quoted anecdotally by numerous Christians. Is this merely a statement whose truth is assumed valid due to its popularity? Or alternatively, is there credibility deriving from the statement’s own merit? Ostensibly, this notion seems to utterly contradict scripture, as in James 4:7, the Bible asserts that drawing near to the Lord will ensure, in return, Him drawing near to you. It continues, “resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
Well, following one of my most eventful weeks in terms of spirituality, I believe I can vouch for both James 4:7 and the previously discussed concept, as I intimately experienced both this past week. In the face of spiritual upheaval I have never before encountered, I drew closer to Him with more desperation than I ever have, and in return, He to me.
Although this introduction may read as dramatic or overly emotional, I assure you that what I write reflects the distress I have felt so deeply in these past weeks. So, without any additional and unnecessary rambling, I will begin.
Two weeks ago at 11 am, I stood in a church outside of the city, Addis Ababa, in Ethiopia. The church could somewhat be classified as a mega church, holding two services, one in English and one in Amharic. The worship can be described as very powerful, as the members of the worship team clearly believe and feel passionate about the words they sing, viewing them not as empty and meaningless lyrics paired with a catchy melody, but rather Bible-backed declarations that proclaim unshakable truth. Suddenly, a fleeting and frightening thought entered my mind:
“What if all of this is crazy? What if we are all just crazy and none of this is true?”
I was immediately horrified at this seemingly random thought. I could not identify where it came from or why, but as soon as it crossed my mind I was left with it. Left to deal with the implications of a confusing and wholly uncharacteristic thought. A thought that neither reflected my beliefs nor my reality. Yet it was my thought. I now owned a thought that felt as if it were not even mine. Although I was able to immediately dismiss the validity of this thought, confident enough in my certainty of the existence of God, the following spiral that I traveled down during the remainder of worship had effects that carried through into the week.
“Why did I think that? What is God trying to communicate to me? Surely this thought was not of Him and is a reflection on my relationship with Him. And my salvation. Clearly if I am now experiencing such fundamental doubt, I do not have a place secure in the kingdom.”
The insecurity and fear I experienced throughout the remainder of the service was more tangible than I had ever felt before. The spiritual unrest and confusion berated me throughout the week consistently, strapping me into an emotional roller coaster whose track always led down and never seemed to lead up. My week was characterized by thoughts that were seemingly inescapable. Thoughts that convinced me of my condemnation and demanded me to question my sincerity and true heart intent. Thoughts that consumed my entire being with fear.
Coincidentally, I completed reading the Bible this week for the first time in my entire life. Despite this event that I perceived as a major victory for myself in light of the innumerable attempts and January first commitments to read the Bible in a year, I felt more unsure about everything than I ever had before. Why after reading every word in the Bible did I feel more insecure about God, His character, and my salvation than before I had read anything?
“Surely He is trying to communicate something to me. Perhaps I have always thought I am saved, but there lies a deep and inaccessible part of my soul that does not truly believe,” I thought.
In the shattering reality of extreme doubt, I trudged forward with Him. I started over, picking up Matthew and spending time thinking, reading, and praying the “sinner’s prayer” countless times, concerned I had been disingenuous the time I first believed. My doubt transitioned from just that — a doubt — to a belief, and a conviction attesting to the probable reality that I was eternally doomed. I cried out to God to show me the truth, to reveal what the turmoil of my inner spirit meant for the trajectory of my life. However, I even found reasons to doubt in Jesus’ own words in the Sermon on the Mount. A passage I formerly deemed an encouraging yet intensely convicting message for believers, as it is one of many messages highlighting the path towards sanctification, I now used as ammunition for my own condemnation. Jesus’ lesson on being a true disciple I found particularly troubling, and it became the foundation of my argument against the security of my salvation. Jesus assures the audience in Matthew 7:21-23 that those who seem religious may not be godly. He continues to assert that there will be people who cast out demons in His name and perform miracles in His name who will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Not only will they not enter the kingdom, but Jesus will say He never even knew them.
Is it possible to go on the world race in the name of Jesus — to take part in missions all in His name for a whole year — yet despite the outward appearance of obedience to not even belong to Him? In my insecure eyes and through my interpretation originating from fear, I not only understood this as incredibly possible, but I extended the possibility to myself, understanding this verse to be speaking to my current reality.
And thus the week continued … a week characterized by extreme moments of uncertainty and doubt that I had never before felt. With the doubt came frustration, guilt, and shame. I was humbled through the storm, as I watched my relationship with God that had been so beautifully threaded and weaved throughout the year slowly unravel to nothing. Back to the basics.
That is the down of the rollercoaster. Fortunately for me and for the nature of a good story, there was an up.
After church last Sunday (now within a week of present day) I wrote an email to my mom explaining the horror I had walked through in the past week and the continuing uncertainty I felt. Only having a few hours in wifi, which unfortunately did not coincide with pacific time, I knew I would have to leave my words of vulnerability hanging in cyber space, devoid of response and wise counsel until the following week, this week. However, unbeknownst to me, God was moving in the entire situation, spurring my mom for reasons unbeknownst to her to set her alarm thirty minutes earlier, which were conveniently and not accidentally, my last thirty minutes in wifi.
He deserves all the praise for the orchestration of the call and the following conversation. A call with my mom that in past moments on the race has contained excited exchanges, life updates, and lighter subject matter, instead became a deep discussion beginning with, “Hi mom, yeah I don’t think I’m going to Heaven.”
I am convinced the Holy Spirit spoke through my mom’s words, through her immediate response that did not miss a beat, did not reflect my own uncertainty nor project her own, yet stood firm in what He says. Not my interpretation of what He says, but what He actually says.
Last Sunday night I shared with my team the things my mom had said along with my lingering and persistent doubts. Ironically, I was on the schedule to lead the team in devotion the following morning. My girls encouraged me to share what God has been teaching me in all of this. The next morning, I reflected on the previous week and poured over scripture to find truth.
After revisiting the series of thoughts of the week before, I realized the initial doubt of God’s existence spurred the ultimately crippling doubt of my salvation. Through having such a fundamental doubt, I subconsciously assumed the presence of such a thought indicated my condemnation, as it reflected the true posture of my heart. Such a thought was inexcusable and indicated where I truly was with Him.
My mom asked me this question that I took to the Word the next morning: “Why would doubt be the one sin not settled on the cross? Why would Jesus’ sacrifice cover all sins besides this one?” The implication of course, is that we can approach the throne imperfectly in everything besides this. Does it make sense that this is the one thing we have to be perfect in? Deeper implications of this statement suggest that Jesus was not the perfect sacrifice, as some sins still go uncovered.
However, Hebrews 9 tells us a different story.
“He took his own blood, and with it he secured our salvation forever.” (9:12)
“For by the power of the eternal Spirit, Christ offered himself to God as a perfect sacrifice for our sins.” (9:14)
“He came once for all time, at the end of the age, to remove the power of sins forever by his sacrificial death for us.” (9:26)
I realized my rationale was actually antithetical to scripture. In addition, I grasped the fear behind “The Holy Spirit trying to communicate to me my own damnation” as being logically flawed as well, as my mom pointed out, if I believed I had never truly accepted, how would the Holy Spirit be present in me to convict me?
Thirdly, God showed me that faith is a spectrum. If it were not, Paul and other writers in the letters of the New Testament would not write encouragements along the lines of, “increase your faith.” If faith can be increased, this means it can vary from greater to lesser degrees.
“We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing.” (2 Thessalonians 1:3)
In addition, God opened my eyes to the reality that we are not alone in our doubts. In Mark 9:24, the father of a demon-possessed boy tells Jesus that he does believe, yet, to “heal my unbelief.” Jesus does not command the man to depart from him, rather heals the boy. The disciples (countless times) provide evidence for the reality of doubt in the Christian walk. Do we want to pattern our lives after the disciples? Of course not, rather we strive for increased faith and for lives patterned after Christ. However, the shared experience is nonetheless comforting.
Lastly, I have grasped the purpose God had in all of the uncertainty and doubt. Again, while talking to my mom, I expressed my exasperation and confusion at experiencing such fundamental doubt, especially in light of the massive steps I have taken with God this year. “I just wonder if there is some issue I have to confess or something I have to come to terms with,” I said. Her response was wise and biblical.
“I don’t think this is something you have to confess as much as something you simply have to endure.”
That brings me to my final discovery through it all. Doubts are not of God. In my understanding, it is no coincidence that in a time of my life when I have never felt closer to God, in the week that I finished reading the Bible for the first time, I was attacked by my own mind and my own fears. The reality is, Satan is not pleased when our faith increases. He will do anything to manipulate the progress. However, just because the source of the doubt is not the Lord does not mean He will not use it. When our faith is tested, our ability to endure grows.
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2)
This past week I have heard wise words from teammates and friends and accepted verses that have encouraged me in my assurance. I have experienced the precious love of our Father in new and unexpected measures. On a side note, Happy Father’s Day to the ultimate dad.
So that brings us to this Sunday morning. A Sunday full of new challenges that demand my complete reliance on Him. And that is where I am with it all. Far from perfect, yet slowly accepting the reality of my long-term removal from perfection until Christ’s return. And with that I will close with Paul’s final instructions to Timothy in 1 Timothy that I found to be an encouragement.
“Fight the good fight for what we believe. Hold tightly to the eternal life that God has given you, which you have confessed so well before many witnesses.” (1 Timothy 6:12)
