Be Patient With My Doubts (John 20:24-29)

Today's scripture: John 20:24-29

Oh, poor Thomas. We give him such a hard time. "Doubting Thomas," we call him. How could he not believe what the disciples said? How impertinent of him to require proof!

I have to wonder ... wouldn't I have done the same? Wouldn't you? We tend to want proof, something tangible to hold on to. We want to touch, to see, to hear ... So are we all that different from Thomas? One of my favorite Christian musicians is Nichole Nordeman. In a song I love, she also wonders if she's more like Thomas than she'd like:

Thomas needed
Proof that You had really risen
Undefeated.
When he placed his fingers
Where the nails once broke Your skin
Did his faith finally begin?
I've lied if I've denied
The common ground I've shared with him.
And I, I really want to know You.
I want to make each day
A different way that I can show You how.
I really want to love You.
Be patient with my doubt;
I'm just tryin' to figure out Your will.
And I really want to know You still. (To Know You, 1998)

We all doubt sometimes. Even those of us who follow Christ sometimes ask for the proverbial fleece. We need that tangible proof. How blessed we are that Jesus is "patient with [our] doubts."

Just as He came to Thomas to let His disciple see Him and touch Him, He'll come to us and help us with our own doubts.

Don't be afraid to share your heart with Jesus. Let Him know where you're struggling. He'll meet you exactly where you are.

Where Is My God? (Ps. 42:9-10)

You are my mighty rock.
Why have you forgotten me?
Why must enemies mistreat me
and make me sad?
Even my bones are in pain,
while all day long
my enemies sneer and ask,
"Where is your God?"
(Psalm 42:9-10, CEV)

I’ve decided to call this the schizophrenic psalm. Back and forth it goes. Despair to praise. Sorrow to trust.

Today, even these two verses have a bit of contrariness to them. Then first sentence is full of power and strength. The psalmist asserts that God is his rock, his strength. Yet, he immediately questions, “Why have you forgotten me?”

Even though he knows that God is the all-powerful One, he still feels forgotten. He is overwhelmed by the mistreatment from his enemies. He is sad. He is in pain.

And when his enemies see his pain, they sneer at him for his trust in a God who seems non-existent.

I wonder sometimes if my “enemies” sneer at me. By enemies, in this case, I think of those I know who don’t believe in my God. When they see me suffer, when they see the constant pain I endure, I wonder if they sarcastically say, “Where is that God you believe in? Why would He allow such pain if He’s so good and strong?”

I don’t know why God has allowed me to feel such pain. But I do know He’s here with me. I know He hasn’t forgotten me.

Not now. Not ever.