There are moments in my life where I stumble upon unbelief. Moments where of spiritual vertigo, where I find myself at the center of the storm that is my life. These moments of crisis, where my faith is on trial, threaten to overwhelm me at times. They threaten to crack the bedrock on which the foundation of my life is laid and cast long shadows on the green pastures of God's promises.
It's an almost-audible voice that speaks to me in these moments, in a sneering and condescending tone, a voice that drips with sarcasm and cynicism.
"David, you idiot! Are you serious!? Is this seriously what you're going to condemn your life to? Look around you, for goodness' sake! You are on a college campus of 40,000 college students, the great majority of whom are more willing at this time in their lives than at any other to live for themselves! They're going to make huge money with their educations for themselves! They'll be the ones buying the mansions, they'll be the ones with the fame and the respect, they'll be the ones with the beautiful wife and the scholarly accolades. And you? What will you have? You've committed your life to a lie. Give it up now, and forget this. There's still time for you.
Do you seriously believe that all this around you, this world that exists, this world so full of selfishness and envy and strife, this world in which only the top dog wins, and second place is only the best loser, do you seriously believe that an all-powerful and all-good God reigns over all of this? Do you seriously believe that an intelligent and loving God created you in his image and his image alone? Do you seriously believe that that God was born of a virgin, healed others of their sickness and blindness, willingly died on our behalf, and rose again? And you seriously believe that his life in you and through you will grant you eternal life and eternal rewards in Heaven? You are an imbecile. You are nothing.
And it's in those moments where I'm left speechless, where I have nothing to say, and it's all I can do to cling to the cliff face with my eyes shut and my teeth gritted. It's in those moments where I'm utterly helpless, my strength fails me, and the Enemy seems poised for a final, killing blow. It's in those moments that another voice, almost audible, but completely contrary to the first, makes itself heard. It always begins with a single word, like an echo from a distant valley, or a whisper through a closed door. And although it begins with little more than a whisper, it builds strength swiftly like a wave cresting on some distant beach. And once God speaks, the Enemy silenced. He has nothing else he can say.
"Yes."
"Yes. You do believe this. Seriously."
And it is then that I realize that I do believe this. I do believe that in a God who rules sovereign and loves a world that, by and large, has rejected him. I do believe in the power of a risen God who paid the ultimate sacrifice so that we might return to him some day. I do believe in a faith that is worth fighting for, in a God worth living for, in a love worth dying for. I believe that, beyond all the theology, all the apologetics, all the debate about a Young Earth vs. an Old Earth, all the predestination vs. free will, despite all of our shortcomings and the failings of our generations, our God reigns. And he is unchallenged.
Something I realized recently about these recurring episodes of crisis and doubt that strike me from time to time is simply this: God will not compete for air time. During these times I realize that God doesn't try to interrupt the enemy. He doesn't get into a shouting match with Satan. He won't wrestle with my doubt, nor will he fight tooth and nail for my attention. He has better things to do than to get into a screaming contest with Satan. Instead, he waits. Like a parent who waits until their child tires of screaming in tantrum, like the sun that waits for the tornado to pass before shining brighter than before, God waits. And with a hint of a smile in his voice, he says something.
"Are you finished?"
"Can I speak now?"
And the words alone are proof enough for me that my God reigns supreme. One of my favorite passages of Scripture is in Job, where in a final understandable fit of frustration, Job caves and tries to call God out.
From Job 38-39:
Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm. He said, "Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? ...when I said, 'This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt'? ...Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? ...Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom and spread his wings toward the south? Does the eagle soar at your command and build his nest on high?"
And Job's doubts are destroyed. He is speechless before a God whose sheer magnitude is incomprehensible, a God who possesses the means to give and take away, a God who restores Job far beyond his imagination. A God who has given us eternity to get to know him better.
And it's that same God who fights my battles for me, who wakes me up each morning. It's that same God who wrought a permanent and ongoing change in my life all those years go, and is carrying that work to completion in me. It's that God who considered me worth dying for so that I would consider him worth living for.
It's in that God that I do. seriously. believe.
It's an almost-audible voice that speaks to me in these moments, in a sneering and condescending tone, a voice that drips with sarcasm and cynicism.
"David, you idiot! Are you serious!? Is this seriously what you're going to condemn your life to? Look around you, for goodness' sake! You are on a college campus of 40,000 college students, the great majority of whom are more willing at this time in their lives than at any other to live for themselves! They're going to make huge money with their educations for themselves! They'll be the ones buying the mansions, they'll be the ones with the fame and the respect, they'll be the ones with the beautiful wife and the scholarly accolades. And you? What will you have? You've committed your life to a lie. Give it up now, and forget this. There's still time for you.
Do you seriously believe that all this around you, this world that exists, this world so full of selfishness and envy and strife, this world in which only the top dog wins, and second place is only the best loser, do you seriously believe that an all-powerful and all-good God reigns over all of this? Do you seriously believe that an intelligent and loving God created you in his image and his image alone? Do you seriously believe that that God was born of a virgin, healed others of their sickness and blindness, willingly died on our behalf, and rose again? And you seriously believe that his life in you and through you will grant you eternal life and eternal rewards in Heaven? You are an imbecile. You are nothing.
And it's in those moments where I'm left speechless, where I have nothing to say, and it's all I can do to cling to the cliff face with my eyes shut and my teeth gritted. It's in those moments where I'm utterly helpless, my strength fails me, and the Enemy seems poised for a final, killing blow. It's in those moments that another voice, almost audible, but completely contrary to the first, makes itself heard. It always begins with a single word, like an echo from a distant valley, or a whisper through a closed door. And although it begins with little more than a whisper, it builds strength swiftly like a wave cresting on some distant beach. And once God speaks, the Enemy silenced. He has nothing else he can say.
"Yes."
"Yes. You do believe this. Seriously."
And it is then that I realize that I do believe this. I do believe that in a God who rules sovereign and loves a world that, by and large, has rejected him. I do believe in the power of a risen God who paid the ultimate sacrifice so that we might return to him some day. I do believe in a faith that is worth fighting for, in a God worth living for, in a love worth dying for. I believe that, beyond all the theology, all the apologetics, all the debate about a Young Earth vs. an Old Earth, all the predestination vs. free will, despite all of our shortcomings and the failings of our generations, our God reigns. And he is unchallenged.
Something I realized recently about these recurring episodes of crisis and doubt that strike me from time to time is simply this: God will not compete for air time. During these times I realize that God doesn't try to interrupt the enemy. He doesn't get into a shouting match with Satan. He won't wrestle with my doubt, nor will he fight tooth and nail for my attention. He has better things to do than to get into a screaming contest with Satan. Instead, he waits. Like a parent who waits until their child tires of screaming in tantrum, like the sun that waits for the tornado to pass before shining brighter than before, God waits. And with a hint of a smile in his voice, he says something.
"Are you finished?"
"Can I speak now?"
And the words alone are proof enough for me that my God reigns supreme. One of my favorite passages of Scripture is in Job, where in a final understandable fit of frustration, Job caves and tries to call God out.
From Job 38-39:
Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm. He said, "Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? ...when I said, 'This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt'? ...Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs? ...Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom and spread his wings toward the south? Does the eagle soar at your command and build his nest on high?"
And Job's doubts are destroyed. He is speechless before a God whose sheer magnitude is incomprehensible, a God who possesses the means to give and take away, a God who restores Job far beyond his imagination. A God who has given us eternity to get to know him better.
And it's that same God who fights my battles for me, who wakes me up each morning. It's that same God who wrought a permanent and ongoing change in my life all those years go, and is carrying that work to completion in me. It's that God who considered me worth dying for so that I would consider him worth living for.
It's in that God that I do. seriously. believe.
