I too struggle a lot with doubt, especially when I'm inviting people to let themselves be connected to painful memories and experiences and offer that pain to God with the hope that this is the path to joy. I mean, I've walked with a lot of people on this journey and at some level I've seen "proof" that God really comes to us in the midst of suffering. And I myself have tasted healing and newness of life that I believe is the fruit of coming into eternal life [that I think begins here on earth as we enter into the kingdom of God, not something that starts after we die]. On the other hand, I have wrestled in my own life with sins and struggles and pain that seems to come around in cycles and never quite go away, which leaves me feeling in my darker hours like nothing ever changed in the first place.
Life in the Cycle
by Julie Brunson, Sept 2006
At times I fly through my maze,
Not bothering to stop at the food dispensers
To secure a pellet of sustenance.
What use is sustenance anyways
In this repetitive, existential experience?
But new thoughts come when I get
to the beginning of the maze—Or is it the end?
Well, they’re not actually new anymore,
Since they come to me periodically,
But they seem new in that moment
Or at least they used to
Before I recognized the maze.
Is it time to hope or despair?
Right. Hope.
And so I find myself
Again
Feeling the warm presence of something more,
Letting my tears well up
As I watch my passion slip around the next corner,
Enjoying a pellet or two in obedience
To what seems like a higher path.
And in those moments
Transcendence seems imminent,
Until I come around the next corner
And find despair,
Shadowing the corners and the road.
So I pull my cloak around me
And stumble along
Turn by turn
Until I begin to feel the warmth again.
OK. That was one of my more cynical, dark moments. I also have learned from my daughter what it looks like to hope for good things and enjoy the goodness that is around me. Her child faith and the beautiful love and tenderness she has for the people around us inspires me to hope and believe.
Anna
by Julie Brunson, 20 July 2004
I lie silent, still beside you
As you toss, touch,
Search for sleep
In dim twilight before dawn.
Deep scent of earth
On your little body
Calls to mind silt sparkling
On your tender skin,
Eyes flashing blue
In Arizona-bright sun,
As you present me a dirt-pie
And spin your theology of the Trinity
With the same string of child faith.
And I believe,
More in this moment
Than my fluctuating faith usually allows,
That this Triune God
Means for us to experience life
as richer, fuller and deeper
Than we adults often grasp.
I’ve also been helped by my friends who, even in the midst of their own struggles, have held on to faith for me, believing that I am in God’s hands and he is really there and I really belong to him. Cheryl wrote the Romans 10 that we sing out of this path of encouragement. Then I had a weird experience when I was flying on a plane, listening to Karen sing Psalm 148 [you can read about that here], where God somehow helped me to believe that he is really there.
But none of this is proof of anything, because in the end we’re choosing to believe something that can’t be proven. Ultimately doubt is not really the opposite of faith, but rather some element of it. I mean, if we could prove it all, it would be sight not faith—which doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes feel foolish for having faith in the first place. And our intro to the Apostles’ Creed is what we’re left with: this is our statement of faith, we say it because it’s what we believe, to remind ourselves that we believe it and to help each other hold on to faith. And when push comes to shove, it’s by grace we have been saved; I don’t have to get it all perfectly right, not even my faith/doubt ratio. And I’m glad that I’m not in this alone, because that seems too impossible and lonely. I love you all and I’m glad to be on the path with you. |