do You Believe this?

“Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
John 11:25, 26

If you skipped over the above scripture, take a moment to read it, please. If you read it quickly, perhaps visit the verse again and digest its meaning before we proceed, for it is the preface of our daily devotional here; and, if I am being fully honest, it is my personal 2023 ‘Jacob wrestling with God’ episode.

Never in my 20 + years of being saved have I ever stood on the precipice of doubt in the basic fundamentals of my faith. Sure, I had the typical doubts here and there, but never did I doubt eternity. That is, until my Mom died.
 
After she passed away, so many things that I knew in my head to be true, began to be wrestled out in the unseen. In the Christian circle, sometimes these are termed the ‘unmentionables’. At first, I was taken aback by the strange thoughts and unexpected questions that suddenly swirled around in my head.

‘Where is my mom now?’ (she was saved), ‘Does heaven and hell exist?’, ‘Is this all made up?’, ‘Is my Mom in this owl who is in broad daylight perched in her outdoor spot?’ (I know, that’s a weird one.)

These were raw, honest conversations I had with God. Just me and him. Long walks, wondering where my Mom truly was. My prayers to God suddenly started to include me not only talking to an unseen God, but sometimes to an unseen Mother.
 
I did not realize that I was not the only one with these questions after experiencing a close person’s death. C.S. Lewis wrote in his book, A Grief Observed, some of the same questions that I was having as he grieved his wife’s passing. His words were a comfort, knowing that maybe this was a normal thing, to wrestle your faith in moments of deep anguish.
 
Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms (of grief). When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be--or so it feels--welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?

Later, Lewis states the truth of God’s word, that He is just as present in sorrow as He is in gladness.  Of course, we know this, but I appreciate Lewis’ raw candidness to share with his readers how he felt in those moments.  (Might I add a small tidbit to those sitting with someone as they ask their Job questions to God? Most of them know the answers. Let them wrestle. Pray for them. Sit with them. Loving support can be just as effective in a silent presence.)
 
The truth of the matter is that I have experienced enough of God to know all of the answers to my questions. I have seen his miracles in my life, I’ve been given many rhema words to direct and comfort me, I’ve witnessed reconciliation and restoration, I’ve seen his hand of provision countless times, and I have sensed his comforting, loving presence in all seasons of life.
 
If that’s not enough, I’ve taken part in the simple miracle of God, plucking me from a destiny of hell, and setting my feet upon His rock. I am not who I was and stand forever changed in His glory. Most important of all, I choose to believe in His word, in His promises. Just as I chose to make a vow to commit my life in marriage to my husband through good times and bad, sickness and health, I’ve chosen to marry Christ and all He is, all He has for me. My love for Christ is bigger than any doubt. This love sustains me in the rockiest moments of my life.
 
All of these faith milemarkers allow those doubting thoughts to pass by on a gentle stream, not taking up real estate in my mind. Faith and trust are not one-and-done deals.  They remind me of a balloon, growing bigger and bigger over time.  Sometimes there’s a pause, a small deflation as we inhale more air, but overall it grows and takes shape.  As hard circumstances sift us and shake us, we grow closer to God and grow our trust in Him. 
 
Through abiding in Him, staying steady in His word, and the fellowship of believers, these doubting thoughts quelled over time as I expressed my grief.  I stand firm that Jesus is the resurrection and the life and those that believe in Him will live forever!
 
When I think of heaven, I see Jesus sitting at the longest banquet table, full of delicious food, waiting for me. (Maybe it is my Cajun heritage that conjures up food at the first thought of heaven. Ha!) Most importantly, the table is full of saints, the only thing we can bring with us when we exit this temporal life.   He sits expectedly awaiting you, too. I hope you join me there!  All it takes is belief in Christ!
 
 
“Then He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and look at My hands. Put your hand into the wound in My side.  Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!” John 20:27
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