One of my friends and fellow RCC worship leaders, Steve Graham, read my post, Choosing to Believe?, and sent me this... I think it's good, so I'm reposting it here. This is from Sailing Between the Stars by Steven James.
Most of us don't have demon-possessed kids. Most of us aren't sinking
into the sea in the middle of a hurricane. Instead we have whiny kids
with runny noses, and doubts about whether or not God really cares if we
get the new job we've been praying about. But here's what I've learned:
no matter how big our doubts and our beliefs are, Jesus accepts them
because he accepts us.
Every day I walk through a minefield of confession and confusion,
certainty and perplexity, courage and hesitation. I trust the Bible and
yet I question parts of it. I believe in God, yet most of the time he
doesn't seem as real to me as I'd like. I trust his promises, yet
sometimes I doubt he'll really answer my prayers. I want to honor him,
but at times I want to go my own direction instead.
And through it all I'm beginning to realize that the true journey of
faith isn't marked by certainty but by a mixture of belief and doubt
living together in a refining tension. Some people might call doubt a
sin, but I wouldn't. I think faith is the ability to see the truth
while it's still invisible, and doubt is the inevitable question that
asks for proof of the unknown.
I'm reassured by the promise in Romans 8:26-27 that God's Spirit is
praying for me, pleading for me, groaning for me in a language beyond
both words and pain. He's on my side, praying to himself for me.
I guess I can relax a little bit knowing that. It kind of takes the
I have enough checks in the answer column to know that destinies really
are changed when I make my requests of the King. Fate moves over to the
passenger seat when I pray. Not always in the ways I want but always in
the ways that are best.
There's so little about God that I understand, so many ways to sink in
the waves. "I do believe," I cry over and over again, day after day.
"I do believe you, Jesus! Help me overcome my doubts!"
And he nods. He's used to this. He takes my hand and leads me deeper
into the reality of who he is over and over again, day after day, as we
move further and further from shore, weaving gracefully between the