January 29, 2021
Dear Doubt,
Hey there. Please forgive the formality of me writing a letter to you. I know it seems weird, especially since we spent so much time together last year. I really felt like I needed to put my thoughts down on paper so you would understand clearly what I need to say to you. It is a brand new season for me and, well, I am going to be laying down some boundaries with you. In fact, I am intentionally putting some distance between me and you, Doubt. In the upcoming year, I sense that God will be offering me so much in my journey with Him, and I simply do not think you are willing to walk with me as I follow Him. So….
Doubt, I’m officially breaking up with you. You cannot go with me where I need to go. I cannot risk you impeding me in my journey any more than I have already allowed in past days. I am really sorry, but we are done.
I know this seems sudden, but let me explain myself. I’m sensing the bigness of God and recognizing daily that He loves to take His kids on Kingdom adventures. I trust Him. He has been immeasurably good to me. Every time He introduces something new to me, you start speaking negativity over it. Doubt, you question almost everything. You usually reject what you do not fully understand. There are occasions when you have truly helped me to not be deceived, but you have an extremely unhealthy bend towards dismissing almost everything that does not meet your perfectionist addiction to reason, safety and comfort.
Doubt, please hear me on this: you have actually hindered me more than you have helped me, and I am unwilling to let that go on. Frankly, over the years I’ve spent by your side, I have come to the conclusion that you work against faith. You set up impossible criteria for judging anything and everything new. Let’s be honest, you are afraid of the supernatural ways of God because you aren’t in control of those ways. It intimidates you because of your deep, deep commitment to logic and predictability. I used to take pride in partnering with you in that type of activity. Now, I regret it because it delayed so much that God had for me. I have committed afresh to God to walk in a much deeper faith, and you keep getting in between me and Him. Honestly, you have turned into quite the drag. It may offend you, but I can’t do life with you anymore. You are boring and discouraging.
Doubt, please don’t be offended, but you really are a bit of a nag. You offer an opinion about almost everything – and it usually comes across in the tone of final authority. You inject your opinions, rationalizations, summaries and arguments all the time. Doubt, you do not listen well and, honestly, God is no longer willing to show you anything new because you seem determined to live as a perpetual skeptic with an ongoing refusal to ever be convinced. I can’t go there. You can’t go where God wants to take you unless you humble yourself, retake the class of Fresh Surrender 101, and learn how to be quiet. I know these are hard words but, Doubt, you are stubborn and proud, and someone needs to say these things to you. You always think you are right, and the fact that you hang out so often with Fear has really made you a bit of a downer. You think you are smarter than the rest of us. I think, personally, that you are far more afraid than you are discerning. Your bold declarations cannot mask your insecure trembling.
Jesus once told His disciple, Thomas (I think you and he were close once), that the people who are blessed are those who believe without seeing first. Have you noticed that you tend to want indisputable truth before you give yourself over to believing in it? I am a Christian, and the glorious God over the cosmos has called me to walk with Him into the unknown. Isn’t it reasonable that, as I do so, I am going to regularly experience things that are mysterious and unexplainable? You are allergic to change, but my God is not. I get excited about these types of things when God offers them to me. They blossom my soul. The inexplicable aspects of the Kingdom give off a glorious fragrance to my heart, mind and spirit. But every time that happens, you show up with a sprayer-tank full of Round-Up and start hosing down what God is bringing forth in me. You are a joy killer, Doubt. You cause others to stumble because you rain on their praise-parade as they celebrate who God is and what He does. I am sure you are unaware, but you regularly quench and grieve the Holy Spirit. That is why you are unhappy, Doubt. That is why you are stuck. Doubt, you always have to be in control because you are deathly afraid of Deception. What you don’t seem to remember is that, when you bow down and stay before King Jesus, Deception is unable to do its ugly work on you. Being a skeptic does not keep you safe from Deception. At its core, perpetual skepticism in the life of a Christian, is deception.
I am afraid that you and I simply cannot go on together because Jesus did not call me to be a razor-sharp skeptic who trusts in his own understanding of things.
Jesus told me to become like a trusting child and follow Him.
I am going to do this.
I will be doing it without you, because I know that you will not go there with me.
So, today, I am saying goodbye. I am humbling myself before God and breaking things off with you. Please do not be offended, but I have outgrown you, Doubt. There are thousands of others who go to church, read their bibles, perfect their religious, proud disciplines and do all the other Christianized activities – they will gladly cultivate a deeper relationship with you. Doubt, they can have you. Where the Lord is taking me and so many others does not have room for you to remain front and center, always running your mouth. I appreciate the small amount of help you have provided over the years, but I do not want to retain a strong bond with you. I wish you the best – that best being your need to humble yourself, to learn not to speak your negativity over what you are not in control of, and to welcome the Lord to crucify you.
When that crucifixion happens, He will change your name to Trust. We can re-engage with one another after that.
Faithfully,
Jeff