peace in uncertainty. faith in doubt. trust in fear.

The Holy Spirit nudged me awake before the crack of dawn yesterday and as usual when that happens, I tried to ignore Him and go back to sleep.

It was 4:12am, fercryinoutloud.

But keeping my eyes closed doesn’t prevent me from hearing the persistent invitation of the Holy Spirit and in the silence of a sleeping house, His quiet whisper can be even more intrusive than Patrick Swayze singing “I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am” on repeat.

By 4:26am, the increasing activity of my mind was impossible to ignore, so I stopped being stubborn, slipped out of bed and went downstairs.

By 4:45am I was sitting on my loveseat with a fresh brewed cup of coffee and a Bible, being stared at by three confused and sleepy cats.

I have a few Bibles, but by (what I now believe is) non-coincidence, the new year had prompted me to start reading a chronological Bible. If you know anything about Biblical timelines, you know the Book of Job was written early, around 6th century BC, so that means in a chronological Bible, Job shows up MUCH sooner than he does in a traditionally arranged Bible.

Meaning that yesterday, at 4:45am in the morning, I found myself reading the Book of Job. Specifically, the part where the Lord “answered” Job. Chapters 38 through 42.

I’ll say right now, Job 40:3-4 is among my favorite passages, but I’m jumping ahead.

In chapter 2, after Job has lost everything, and I mean e v e r y t h i n g, three friends come to him and give us an example of what to do for a friend who is suffering when there really is nothing we can do:

“Then they sat on the ground with Job seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him because they saw how much he was suffering.”

Because, sometimes, there are no words.

After seven days and seven nights, Job starts talking to them; actually, lamenting to them. His friends reply. They spend 35 chapters slugging through Job’s suffering, all he has lost, why God would do this to him and Job lamenting about how he wants to talk to God and ask Him Why? Why? Why would He DO this!?!?

Then, in Chapter 38:1, God shows up in a storm and “answers” Job’s questions:

“Then the Lord answered Job from the storm. He said:
“Who is this that makes my purpose unclear
by saying things that are not true?
Be strong like a man!
I will ask you questions,
and you must answer me.
Where were you when I made the earth’s foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.”

The Lord continues with a barrage of questions that, in all honesty, remind me of Genie talking to Aladdin:

“Excuse me? Are you lookin’ at me? Did you rub my lamp? Did you wake me up? Did you bring me here? And all of a sudden you’re walking out on me? I don’t think so, not right now. You’re getting your wishes, so sit down!

Combine my Disney Genie/God comparison heresy with scripture and my paraphrase goes something like this:

“You wanted to talk to me? You don’t think this is “fair”? You want answers? You want me to explain myself to you? Here I am. And I have a few questions for YOU. Did YOU create the earth? Did you…

Question after question in verse after verse, each one another confirmation that God is God and Job is . . . not. and then,

“The Lord said to Job: “Will the person who argues with the Almighty correct him? Let the person who accuses God answer him.”

Then Job answered the Lord: “I am not worthy; I cannot answer you anything, so I will put my hand over my mouth.”

That right there. Emphasis mine. One of my favorite passages of the Bible. Job 40:3-4

Why did I take the time to write this and go out on a potentially heretical limb to share it?

Because I believe that:

We may struggle and face dark days ahead, but no matter how bad things get, God is SOVEREIGN. None of what’s happening right now is out of His control or even surprises Him.

God has a history of redeeming situations that satan means for evil and using broken people to accomplish his greater purposes.

I recognize that people who are suffering seek God exponentially more often and more intensely than those who are safe and comfortable and satisfied and successful by the world’s standards, like the story of the rich man in Mark 10.

So. No matter what happens,

when the Holy Spirit leads me to someone who needs encouragement or help, I need to pray and ask Him to equip me to be His hands and feet and eyes and ears and voice because I can’t do it on my own

and

when worry creeps into those quiet moments between awake and asleep, I need to pray and ask God to remind me that He is sovereign and He is with me and I can trust Him.

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” C.S. Lewis

toxic concoction.

Doubt and Faith Toxic Concoction Mark Buchanan Your God is Too SafeI got cocky.

I thought I could logically justify my faith in God.

You’ll find some Christians who’ll tell you they can do it.

not me.

not anymore.

When someone told me my faith was illogical, irrational and unreasonable, I bristled. Or should I say, my ego bristled? I challenged them to prove it.

They couldn’t. (Their emotionally charged reasoning was circular and redundant and they completely ignored me when I poked questions into the holes in their arguments.)

But in the aftermath of those discussions, I discovered I couldn’t disprove it either.

Science and logic have limits. There are some things that can’t be understood or explained (and a definition isn’t an explanation).

Like what causes gravity.
Like human consciousness.
Like quantum entanglement (what Einstein called “spooky action at a distance”).

Like God.

Doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Just means we don’t understand why. Or how.

Somewhere along the way, I forgot that God cannot be completely understood. I forgot that a God I can understand is a God I create. Confine. Any God I can completely understand is limited by time and space and the extent to which I can understand.

Any God who is limited by my understanding is not transcendent.

I was reminded – the hard way – that I don’t want a God I can understand.

It was a season of extreme paradox in my life.

My faith had never been stronger and I had never been more aware of my weakness apart from Christ.

My faith had never been stronger and I had never been more intimately and desperately dependent on the Holy Spirit.

I prayed daily for wisdom and discernment and empathy and compassion. I prayed daily for Him to continuously make me aware of opportunities to be the hands and feet and voice and ears of Christ. Watching and listening for the promptings of the Holy Spirit had never been more in the forefront of my awareness. I prayed not only for the Holy Spirit to prompt me when to speak and act, but when to be silent and still.

I prayed for Him to equip me in what I honestly knew to be beyond my capabilities.

and then.

The person who told me my faith was illogical, irrational and unreasonable asked me a simple question:

If God is sovereign, why pray?

You’d think I would have considered that question before, me being all spiritually “mature” and everything.

Turns out, I had never really thunk it through. I had dismissed it, thoughtlessly citing Biblical platitudes like “I pray because Jesus prayed.” and “I pray because the Bible tells us to pray.”

When I finally looked at the question straight on, my entire relationship with God came to a screeching halt.

I couldn’t pray.

I wanted to turn back the clock. To unthink what I was thinking. I wanted the faith of a child.

I wanted stronger faith.

Suddenly and overwhelmingly, I identified with Philip Yancey when he wrote:

“I envy, truly I envy, those people who pray in simple faith without fretting about how prayer works and how God governs this planet. For some reason I cannot avoid pondering these imponderables.”

What was so different about this question this time? It came at a critical juncture in my life. After arguing with God for months, I had finally taken the terrifying step of obedience by sharing something I believe God was revealing to me. Something I tried to ignore. Something I didn’t want to see: That I was part of a church which marginalized grace, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, prayer and relationship with Christ. That we forgot 1 Corinthians 2:2-5 and were ignoring Matthew 28:19.

I was genuinely repentant and prayed desperately for God to bring revival. Heartbroken, I asked for people to pray with me. I was blindsided by how angry people were, how fast and how much they misunderstood what I said and how vehemently they rejected not only what I was saying, but me.

I had argued with God, finally doing what I believed He was prompting me to do and I was faced with closed hearts, closed minds and slammed doors.

So I did what anyone “mature” in their faith would do. I ran into a cave and hid.

A dark cave.

“But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there.

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
1 Kings 19:4-9

Go ahead, sing-song it with me.

“Julie and Elijah, sitting under a tree, w. h. i. n. ing.”

I prayed.

and then I couldn’t.

Because God is sovereign and God’s gonna do what God’s gonna do.

And then I prayed because I couldn’t help it.

Because a life void of intimacy with Christ and utter dependance on the Holy Spirit was vastly empty. and hopelessly dark.

Desolate.

I prayed because I couldn’t help it while at the same time believing that praying to a sovereign God who’s working a plan and doesn’t need my help was…pointless.

Not logical. Not pragmatic.

And that’s where faith is required.

And where doubt came in.

I never doubted the existence of God. I never doubted Christ or the Cross or the redeeming power of His blood. I never doubted my salvation.

I doubted the point of me.

If God is sovereign, why pray?

If God doesn’t need me, why would He even bother with me? Why did He even bother with me?

And that’s why I say I can’t logically justify my faith.

In my darkest night, when God was completely silent, when the logical, rational and reasonable foundation for my faith was beyond my sight,

I still had faith.

I still have faith.