Wrestling with Faith: A Personal Journey Through Doubt
I sat in my car outside the grocery store last week, staring at my nearly empty bank account on my phone screen. Bills were due, unexpected expenses had piled up, and that familiar knot of anxiety was tightening in my stomach. In that moment, I realized something that made me both uncomfortable and ashamed: I could recite dozens of Bible verses about God’s provision, yet I was paralyzed by fear about my own circumstances.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Just the previous Sunday, I had taught a Bible study lesson about Jesus feeding the five thousand. I had confidently explained to my class how Jesus took five loaves and two fish and performed a miracle that fed thousands. Yet here I was, questioning whether He could help me make ends meet this month.
I imagine Zechariah might understand this internal conflict. There he was, a priest who had spent his entire life serving in God’s temple, probably retelling the stories of God’s miracles countless times. Yet when the angel Gabriel appeared with news that his wife Elizabeth would have a son, his response was essentially, “Prove it” (Luke 1:18 NIV). I used to judge Zechariah for his doubt. Now I see myself in his story.
Last night, as I was wrestling with these thoughts, I opened my journal from five years ago. Page after page documented prayers for situations that had seemed impossible at the time – a critically ill parent, a broken relationship, a seemingly dead-end career. As I read, tears began to fall. Every single one of those prayers had been answered. Maybe not in the ways I had expected or hoped, but God had been faithful. He had provided. He had protected. He had guided.
Why is it so easy to forget? The God who parted the Red Sea is the same God who somehow helped me make rent last month when everything seemed impossible. The God who sent manna from heaven is the same God who unexpectedly provided a new job opportunity when I was at my lowest. As Jesus said, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26 NIV).
I’m learning that faith isn’t the absence of doubt – it’s the courage to trust despite it. Like the father who cried out to Jesus, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24 NIV), I’m learning to be honest about my struggles while still clinging to faith. Some days, my faith feels as tiny as a mustard seed. But Jesus said that’s enough (Matthew 17:20).
The truth is, the same power that raised Jesus from the dead is available to us today. The same God who heard Hannah’s desperate prayers for a child hears our prayers in the middle of the night. The same Lord who protected Daniel in the lions’ den watches over us in our daily battles. As Scripture reminds us, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8 NIV).
Recently, I’ve started a new practice. Every time I catch myself doubting God’s provision for today, I stop and write down one way He’s been faithful in the past. It’s a small act of rebellion against my doubt. Because here’s what I’m slowly learning: my doubt doesn’t change God’s faithfulness. When Peter began to sink beneath the waves, Jesus didn’t let him drown. When Thomas doubted, Jesus showed up with nail-scarred hands. When the Israelites complained in the wilderness, God still sent manna every morning.
This journey of faith isn’t about achieving perfect belief. It’s about learning to trust the perfect faithfulness of God. Even when our bank accounts are low. Even when the doctor’s report isn’t what we hoped. Even when our prayers seem to go unanswered. Even when our faith feels small.
Because at the end of the day, it’s not about the size of our faith, but the size of our God. And He is bigger than our biggest doubts, more faithful than our strongest beliefs, and more present than we can imagine.
So today, if you’re like me – believing in the God of biblical miracles but struggling to trust Him with your daily needs – remember that His faithfulness doesn’t depend on the strength of your faith. The same God who did wonders in Scripture is still doing wonders today. Sometimes we just need to open our eyes to see them.
And perhaps that’s what faith really is: not the absence of all doubt, but the choice to trust even when doubt is present. The decision to believe that the God who has been faithful before will be faithful again. Because He always is. Even when we doubt.
Dear Father,
As I sit here tonight, my heart full of both faith and fear, I thank You for being bigger than my doubts. Thank You for being patient with me when I’m like Peter, looking at the waves instead of Your face. Thank You for being gentle with me when, like Thomas, I struggle to believe without seeing.
Lord, I confess that while I believe in the miracles of Scripture, I sometimes doubt You’ll work that powerfully in my own life. Forgive me for putting limits on Your love, for believing the lie that You were more present in biblical times than You are today. Thank You that You don’t turn away from me in these moments of weakness.
Father, when I check my bank account and panic starts to rise, help me remember the feeding of the five thousand. When I face impossible situations, remind me of the Red Sea parting. When I feel alone in my struggles, help me recall how You met Hagar in the desert. Not just as stories from long ago, but as promises of who You still are today.
Thank You for every answered prayer that I’ve forgotten, for every provision I’ve taken for granted, for every protection I didn’t even know I needed. Thank You for being faithful even when my faith is small.
Lord, I choose to trust You today – not because my faith is perfect, but because Your faithfulness is. Help me to see Your hand moving in my daily life. Give me eyes to recognize Your presence in both the miraculous and the mundane.
And on the days when doubt feels stronger than faith, thank You that You hold onto me even when my grip on You feels weak. Thank You that Your love doesn’t depend on my perfect trust, and Your promises don’t expire because of my questions.
In the name of Jesus, who meets me in both my faith and my doubt,
Amen.