Belief And Doubt Often Share The Same Space

​I believe in Jesus.

I believe that Jesus was born to a virgin.

I believe that Jesus was crucified on a cross and then died and three days later rolled away a stone and walked out of a tomb to briefly walk the earth again.

And then, shortly after that, Jesus ascended into heaven.

I believe that Jesus did all of that so that I too may one day ascend to heaven to live with him.

I believe all of that. Quite strongly. And, at the same time, I acknowledge and totally get that to some that sounds like a really crazy thing to believe.

But do you know what sounds crazier to me personally? It sounds crazier to write that I DO believe all of that, and yet, at the same time, I confess that some days my situation feels so challenging that I don't believe Jesus can do anything with it at all.

Sure, I would never sat that out loud in the moment of my challenging situation, but does it make any difference what I'm not saying out loud if my body is loudly feeling full of fear and panic and grief?

Does it matter that I absolutely believe Jesus came to be my way out of the darkest of places and yet, at times, I find myself feeling trapped in the darkest of places?

How does such belief and reality live together in such tension?

The answer isn't an easy one. But one I continue to know and feel with more faith every day. And that is believing Jesus is the way out of darkness doesn’t mean I will never find myself there again.

It simply means the darkness no longer gets the final word.

Growing in faith isn’t forever outgrowing the feeling of being trapped; its coming to believe there will always be a way through even when I can't see it in the moment. My life is living proof of this, for I wake up this morning on the other side of many things in my life for which I once believed there couldn't possibly be an other side.

I've come to believe—and know—that my belief and reality meet here: Jesus never promised I would never experience darkness. He promised I would never experience it alone.

I think too many days I'm looking for the stone to be rolled away in my life, when instead I need to be looking for the one who has already rolled it away.