Chapter 6
Chapter 6 Doubt and Love by Mark Howard really loved Jesus in my youth. But I also experienced doubt—like the nagging feeling of guilt and fear that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't trustworthy. Would he really never leave me? Could his forgiveness really cover all my sin? Most of all, my relationship with Jesus often left me feeling worn out from trying so hard.
If you could have listened to my thoughts on any given day as a teen, you would have heard something like this:
"T'm so tired of trying to be good."
"Ts this really worth it, or am I missing out on all the fun for nothing?"
"Will Jesus really give up on me if I
"Ugh, I'm so sorry! Please don't give up on me, Jesus! I'll try fen harder next time!
"(Sigh) This better be worth it."
I'd be lying if I said these thoughts still don't creep back into my head from time to time. But now, after years of experiencing grace despite my insecurities, failures, and faults, my relationship with Jesus has deepened.
I have gotten to know a Jesus who is very much alive and at work in this world, who is unfailingly gracious, and whose patient presence simmers with loving-kindness.
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Doubt and Love
But as a teenager, Jesus felt distant. Sure, there were moments during youth retreats or at Christian camp when I felt deeply connected to him—but those were the exception.
Back then, I knew Jesus as Lord, King, or Judge; I didn't know him asa friend.
| I was vaguely aware that the word Lord had Jewish and Roman layers of meaning, but the only lords I knew about were
'British nobility.
For me, a lord conjured up images of old men who were powerful and rich—but also standoffish, wrapped in wealth, and tinged with disdain for the commoner.
And that's how Jesus felt to me sometimes: a distant Lord with the privileged status of God's firstborn Son, and the treasure troves of heaven at his disposal. Sure, I could see how such a Jesus was worthy of praise and whose side you certainly wanted to be on.
But I also worried that my rags would somehow offend his riches.
When I was feeling insecure in my own skin, such thoughts kept me from drawing too close. They made me want to hide.
I remember sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom in my house with the door shut, feeling horrible about myself. I was ashamed and angry at my inability to get control of my thoughts.
If Jesus really meant that even thinking about sex with a person was like committing adultery, then what hope did I have with my teenage hormones raging? I felt like dirt. I felt worthless. In those moments, the Lord Jesus felt safer from a distance.
As a teen, I viewed politicians as impersonal and out for themselves. They were preoccupied with their own agendas.
While I knew Jesus wasn't a politician, I questioned if he was trustworthy. I didn't think he understood or cared about my personal struggles.
As a result, I really didn't expect much of Jesus. I inferred that my lot in life was largely up to me. While it seemed safe to acknowledge Jesus as Lord and King, I better get on with making the best of my own life.
Most often, and most exhausting, was my experience of Jesus as a judge, always watching and evaluating how I measured up.
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THE JESUS | WISH! KNEWIN HIGH SCHOOL
Shortly after getting my driver's license, I had an experience that I can still feel in my bones today. I was behind the wheel and midway through crossing the train tracks near my house, when the lights on the crossbar started flashing. As soon as I got to the other side, a cop pulled out and turned on his siren.
My heart began to race and sweat broke out everywhere as I pulled to the side of the road. I knew I hadn't broken any laws, but I was a sixteen-year-old male with a new license. I was terrified. The cop had so much power over me, and from the look on his face, he knew it.
I understood that how I reacted could make a big difference in the outcome of this encounter. Be polite. Be respectful. Be submissive. Don't argue. Maybe he would be merciful.
After being threatened with a ticket, I only received a warning. And the warning worked—I still haven't gotten a ticket to this day!
As a teenager, a lot of my day-to-day relationship with Jesus felt like that experience with the police officer. I was painfully aware that I was at God's mercy. But my situation was worse than with the cop, because I knew that with Jesus I was guilty.
Asa result, I was perpetually worried that Jesus would finally have enough, the "warnings" would run out, and I'd get a ticket— or worse. And so, like with the cop, I tried to do what I could to win Jesus to my side. I went to church. I played in the praise band.
I got on the youth leadership team. I didn't do drugs. I didn't have sex. | wanted to do everything I could to earn his favor.
It was grueling, and I regularly wondered if it was worth it.
THE Jesus | WisH | KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL Over the last several decades, Jesus has patiently, wonderfully, and sometimes painfully worked in my life to shape my understanding of who he is and the nature of his affections for me.
A key turning point was coming to grips with the reality of the doctrine of adoption. Put simply, the doctrine of adoption believes that in Christ we become a part of God's family with all the benefits therein. It's why we get to call God, our Father.
Doubt and Love
What's truly remarkable, though, is that Scripture tells us that our adoption into God's family is not of secondary importance to our salvation. In fact, our adoption is a primary reason for Jesus's life, death, and resurrection.
Listen to what Paul writes in his letter to the Galatians:
"When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons" (4:4—5, emphasis mine).
So that.
Jesus came to redeem us so that we could become children of God. The good news is that Jesus doesn't just want our good behavior or righteousness. He wants us because he loves us, like a father loves his child.
The truth of our adoption changes everything—because while a king, lord, or judge might be distant and aloof, family is a different matter. Jesus wants to be near to us. He wants us to draw near to him. I'm an American, but I can't just run up to the President and expect to be embraced. If I did, the only open arms I would find would be those of the Secret Service—and it wouldn't be a loving, gentle embrace either. But nobody 1s going to stop one of the President's family members from getting a hug or seeking out attention.
I am far from a perfect father, but I know deep down that nothing could ever keep me from loving my children with everything I am. And if that's how I feel, how much deeper must God's love for his children be? "See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are" (1 John 3:1a).
And sure, I believe that God still watches me—but not as a mean-hearted judge wanting to exert his power over me with condemnation. Rather, Jesus sees me always through the lens of his unending love, always wrapped up in his own righteous robe. He watches over me as a mother delights in watching over her newborn child.
THE JESUS! WISH | KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL
Because of this, I no longer feel insecure in God's love.
"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus," Paul writes in Romans 8:1. He goes on to say, "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (vv. 38-39).
I wish I had known as a teenager the freedom of following Jesus happily as my Lord and King, simply because I knew he loved me and wanted me for his own. I wish I had felt free to draw near to Jesus, even in my sin. I now know that even my worst sin cannot outweigh his love for me.
THE Jesus | WANT You To KNow My dear friend—I want you to know the Jesus who is always close, deeply gracious, and overwhelmed with love for you.
If you feel far from him, unsure of whether following Jesus is worth it, and tired from trying to earn his favor like I was, please know you are not alone and that there is another way.
Draw near to Jesus. If you are unsure how, I would encourage you to find a quiet place alone. Turn off your phone. And then start talking to him. Ask him to show you that he is with you. Ask him to wrap you in his love like a mother or a father and to pour out his Spirit on you. Then, start sharing your heart as you would to the safest, closest friend you've ever had. Don't hold anything back. Once you have no more words, just sit, listen, and rest in him.
DEVOTIONAL QUESTIONS
Read | John 3:1.
The author of chapter 6 viewed God as Judge rather than Father. Have you ever seen God in this way?
Imagine the best parent in the world. What would they be like? How might your relationship with God change
Doubt and Love
if you saw yourself as a child of the most loving parent the world has ever known?
How might you pray differently now, knowing that God loves you as an adoring parent? Could you tell him anything and everything?
ADOPTION (noun): When a person puts their faith in Christ, they are adopted as a child of God.
As his child, they receive all the benefits of being an heir of the King.
What this means for you: As an adopted child of the Most High God, you receive all the benefits of a child of God. You can draw close to him, as you would a loving parent. You can tell him everything.
~ You are his.
Dreams and the Real Story by Charlotte Getz A s an adult, it's easy to block out the particular challenges of one's teenage years. Yet I was recently (a little painfully) taken back to my own high school struggles when I read the following passage from a Sally Rooney novel:
Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn't know if she would ever find out where it was and become part of it. She had that feeling in school often, but it wasn't accompanied by any specific images of what the real life might look or feel like. All she knew was that when it started, she wouldn't need to imagine it anymore.'
Marianne's inner experience as a teenager sounds awfully familiar to my own. I went to boarding school in Rhode Island for my last three years of high school and, although I had friends there, felt mostly unseen. I went about each day accompanied by the ever-present sense that I was not quite smart enough, not quite athletic enough, not quite pretty enough, a bit chubby,
1. Sally Rooney, Normal People (Richmond, UK: Hogarth, 2019), 11. ae 4)
Dreams and the Real Story
and yet not nearly enough. My role in this high school narrative seemed to be playing out with all the grace of a sideshow act—garish and uncomfortable to watch—rather than the cool composure of a leading lady. I wondered why I was so very incapable of walking a calmer, more neutral line of "normal" (whatever that meant).
For as long as I could remember I believed that a boyfriend, -a leading man, would be the solution to my angst. Having a boyfriend starring opposite me would mean real and lasting affirmation that I was somebody to be desired, somebody worth loving, that my story was worth entering into, and that all my awful suspicions about myself were in fact untrue. That I wasn't just a kooky, average student who frequently got into trouble for talking during class. Yet I continued to feel I was all of those things and, evidently, also powerless to draw even a shred of romantic attention from any of the (many) boys I liked.
This was not the wild, vibrant, magical story 'd dreamed up for myself and my life when I was a child. No, I was lonely, insecure, restless, and hungry for so much more than the disappointing, sometimes embarrassing plot unfolding before me.
During free periods, I'd lay in my dorm room bed and gaze out a foggy window overlooking the school quad. I'd get lost in my music and, like Marianne, achingly dream of the life I was missing—the thrilling, romantic, robust story that surely lay ahead, if only I could write myself into it already.
Refrain as best you can from judgment, but I began to fantasize about the future-Charlotte as a movie star. True story.
And not just your run-of-the-mill celebrity social media influencer-type, but a well-respected Hollywood actress, the Oscarwinning sort, like a young Meryl Streep. I imagined what it would be like to have people take me seriously as I effortlessly glided down red carpets (as opposed to the class clown reputation I'd acquired as a teenager). I imagined myself on the cover of People magazine, my movies airing during prime time on television sets across America, by now a household name the likes of Sandra Bullock or Julia Roberts. If future-Charlotte
THE JESUS | WISH | KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL
could be a movie star, that meant I'd finally be deemed "beautiful," which also meant I'd probably have the pick of the litter when it came to hunky boyfriends. "Movie Star-Me" would be known, seen, beloved: all the trimmings of a perfect, exciting, satisfying life story.
While I grew up in the church, I didn't know God or Jesus in any meaningful way until a few years into college. As a teenager,
God seemed like some far-off entity who couldn't possibly understand my plight—much less have actually created me with divine purpose, meticulous intention, or abundant love. I half-heartedly asked him for things from time to time, as if he were a vending machine or some kind of mystical genie. But I lacked any firmer grasp of him than this vague figure in the sky who might grant my wishes if I begged hard enough. So instead of looking to God for my sense of identity and worth, I looked to other people, to boys, to my future adoring audiences as the measuring stick for who I should be and what my story should look like.
The story the world was laying out for me looked meager, incomplete, below average. I felt more invisible by the hour, as if a playwright had come to the not-so-painstaking conclusion to write insignificant-me straight out of his play: "This character is both too much, and not enough. Easier to just strike her from the script altogether."
THE Jesus | WisH | KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL I would learn a few years later that Christianity tells a different story than the world. Jeremiah 1:5 says this, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you." What I wouldn't give to travel back in time and whisper these words into the ear of my high school self (although
I suspect God was doing the job for me, all the while).
Jeremiah himself was a teenager when God called him to be a prophet to the nations. He was also deeply insecure, felt painfully inadequate: "I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth" (Jeremiah 1:6b). And yet according to this verse, God had known Jeremiah, had set him apart, had chosen him for a
Dreams and the Real Story
purpose since the dawn of time. Can you imagine that the God of the universe knows you this intimately? That you, specifically, were in his heart and his mind since the very beginning?
In his book Run with the Horses, Eugene Peterson offers the following practical wisdom about this Scripture from Jeremiah:
My identity does not begin when I begin to understand myself. There is something previous to what I think about myself, and it is what God thinks of me...
. I never speak the first word. I never make the first move.
Jeremiah's life didn't start with Jeremiah. Jeremiah's salvation didn't start with Jeremiah. Jeremiah's truth didn't start with Jeremiah. He entered the world in which the essential parts of his existence were already ancient history. So do we."
This means that no matter how circumstances may appear, our lives are not an accident. Our identities are not what we make of them. Our stories are not failed spin-offs of a more impressive story. No, we were created with infinite love and purpose. Before the world was formed, we were written into God's story—this God who created the heavens and the earth, the winds and the rains, the daisies and the daffodils, and also our very inmost beings. This God who said to himself, "I want
Charlotte in my story." And like a master craftsman, he knits us together in our mothers' wombs (see Psalm 139).
In all our anxieties and insecurities about who we are and what we're here for, God doesn't cheer for us off set like some motivational film director: "Find it in yourself! You have everything it takes!" No. When Jeremiah protests to God that he is only a child, God does not pat him on the back, coax him toward center stage and say, "Be your own hero, Jeremiah!" He says something far more inspirational: "Do not be afraid .
. for I am with you to deliver you" (Jeremiah 1:8). Then he touches 2. Eugene H. Peterson, Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best
(Westmont, IL: IVP Books, 2009), 37-38.
THE JESUS | WISH | KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL
Jeremiah's mouth and says, "Behold, I have put my words in your mouth" (v. 9b).
From the beginning to the end, God places the full weight of our enoughness—the arc and resolution of our characters—onto his own shoulders. He pours perfect strength into our weakness. As Jeremiah illustrates, he moves and saves, and we receive and respond. God created us to depend on him, and he is a far more worthy and capable provider than we could imagine. If you aren't convinced, look no further than the cross.
If you—like me—like Marianne—are waiting for your best self to take over, for your "real" life to start, for the better story to unfold, consider that the story you are in right now began centuries ago and it culminates with Jesus dying on a cross and three days later walking out of a tomb, alive. He did all of this on your behalf, because he has known you, dear reader, he has loved you from the very beginning.
The story I'd been longing for as a teenager only showed real sparks of magic once I understood my place in God's story.
My immovable, irreplaceable role in the story of God was this: seen, loved, forgiven, known, recipient. You might notice that these are the very things I had sought from a boyfriend and from movie star-me. As a teenager I might have felt like a sideshow act, but to God I was a beloved leading lady worth dying for.
THE Jesus | WANT You To KNow The God I know now says this to me and, filled in with different descriptors, zo you: "I know exactly who you are. I created you and your story myself, like a script, writ with its very own font. I created you to be warm and friendly, maybe a little too loud and a little 'too much.' I created you to brim with wild and improbable dreams and also with the imagination to see some of them through. I created you to reveal my glory in a particular way. Just like Jeremiah, you are also 'not enough.' But I created you to need me; my strength, my rescue, are enough. I am with you. And I have set you apart. You can gét out of your bed and stop imagining these things could be true, because they are true.
Dreams and the Real Story th, You are enough because of what I have done for you through Jesus. You are lovable because I love you, and I have proven that love to you in the most over-the-top, outlandish way possible— by laying down my very life for you."
DEVOTIONAL QUESTIONS
Read Jeremiah 1:4—10.
What is God's role in Jeremiah's story? How might this apply to your own story?
The author of chapter 7 describes longing for a more exciting story, a more extraordinary life. Can you relate? How?
Consider your life through the eyes of your Creator.
How might he see it differently than you do?
IDENTITY IN CHRIST (noun): Who you are is based on who Christ is.
What this means for you: Christ has given you | a clear identity in himself. Whether you are an athlete or musician, an artist or mathematician, the most important thing about you is this: You are sinful, but you are loved and rescued in Jesus
| Christ.