A few weeks ago, I had lunch with a friend and told him about something I was struggling with and doubts that I had. It’s something that, for years, I had been afraid to tell anyone. It wasn’t even a big deal, but there was an underlying fear that I would be found out; I would be a fraud.
For a long time, “I don’t know” was an answer I was afraid of. Whether it was about faith, work, or anything else, I felt that I was expected to know the answer. And the older I get, the more “I don’t know” seems to be the appropriate response for a lot of things. Right now I’m reading through the Bible in a year, and sometimes there are things I struggle with and things I don’t understand. Faith is far more complicated as an adult when you are surrounded with the reality of brokenness in the world. Somewhere along the way, however, I realized that God is still good no matter what and I didn’t have to defend Him—He never expected me to have all the answers all along.
I used to (and still do, sometimes) feel like I have to have it all together, and that I have all the right answers. I work for a church, and sometimes I feel guilty when I have doubts to wrestle with—not because anyone else makes me feel that way, but because there’s a voice inside me sometimes that whispers, “You’re not good enough for this. You’re just faking it.”
Today is Good Friday, where we celebrate Jesus’ sacrifice and death. I think about how all of Jesus’ disciples doubted Him at some point; some more than others. Some even abandoned him completely, and He still took them back and let them lead the whole thing. I think I’m a lot like Jesus’ disciples most times—broken, doubting, fearful, but still chosen by Him.
I don’t know all the right answers. There’s a lot of things about Jesus and Bible and faith I don’t understand, but I do know one thing: I was dead, and Jesus made me alive. I believe Jesus was resurrected because He’s resurrected me.
Hillsong Worship has a new song called “Grace to Grace”, and I’ve been playing it over and over again the past few days. There’s a particular line that love:
When I see that Cross, I see freedom.
I hope that’s true for you today, like it is for me. No matter how unworthy you feel and what you’ve been carrying, you’ll see the freedom in the Cross.
Freedom from faking it.
Freedom from our secrets.
Freedom from our sins.
Freedom from death.
There’s freedom for you in the Cross of Jesus today, friend. You don’t have to fake it anymore.