Faith in Real Life — Part 13
Have you ever been afraid to ask God a question?
Not because you didn’t believe in Him.
But because you were afraid that asking might mean you didn’t trust Him enough.
Maybe you’ve wondered why something happened.
Why a prayer went unanswered.
Why someone you loved had to suffer.
Why God seems silent when you desperately need direction.
Or why life sometimes looks so different from what you believed it would.
And somewhere along the way, you started wondering whether having those questions meant there was something wrong with your faith.
Because aren’t Christians supposed to trust God?
Aren’t we supposed to believe His ways are higher than ours?
Aren’t we supposed to walk by faith and not by sight?
Yes.
But here’s something I’ve been thinking about.
What if having faith doesn’t mean we stop asking questions? What if faith is sometimes what gives us the courage to ask them?
I think we need to talk about that.
Because somewhere along the way, many people have come to believe that strong faith means never struggling.
Never wondering.
Never questioning.
Never admitting that something doesn’t make sense.
But when I open my Bible, I find something different.
I find people who believed in God and still wrestled with Him.
People who trusted Him and still cried out for answers.
People who followed Him without understanding everything He was doing.
And I find a God who continued working in their lives, even in the middle of their questions.
When We Confuse Questions With Unbelief
I think one of the greatest misunderstandings about faith is the idea that questioning something automatically means we don’t believe.
But questions can come from very different places.
Sometimes we question because we’re skeptical.
Sometimes because we’re confused.
Sometimes because we’re hurting.
Sometimes because we’re trying to understand Scripture.
And sometimes because we genuinely want to know God more deeply.
Those aren’t all the same thing.
There’s a difference between asking a question because we want to understand and deciding that we won’t trust God unless He gives us the answer we demand.
One is a desire to learn.
The other can become a condition we place on our faith.
And I think it’s important to recognize that difference.
A question isn’t automatically a rejection of truth. Sometimes it’s the beginning of a deeper search for it.
We don’t become spiritually mature by pretending we understand things we don’t.
We grow by continuing to seek God, study His Word, and allow Him to shape our understanding.
And sometimes that process begins with a question.
Even the People in Scripture Had Questions
One of the things I appreciate most about the Bible is that it doesn’t hide the struggles of the people within its pages.
Think about Abraham.
God promised him descendants, yet Abraham and Sarah faced years of waiting.
Abraham asked God questions about how His promises would be fulfilled.
Think about Moses.
When God called him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, Moses questioned his own ability and wondered how the people would respond.
Think about David.
Throughout the Psalms, David cried out to God in seasons of fear, sorrow, and uncertainty.
Psalm 13 begins with the question of how long God will seem distant.
Think about Habakkuk.
He looked at the injustice around him and struggled to understand why God seemed to allow it.
And then there’s Job.
A man who suffered devastating losses and wrestled with questions that didn’t have easy answers.
These weren’t people who had everything figured out.
They were people learning to walk with God through circumstances they didn’t fully understand.
And their stories remind us that faith has never required perfect understanding of everything God is doing.
Thomas Wanted to Understand
I think Thomas is one of the most interesting examples of someone wrestling with questions.
We often refer to him as “Doubting Thomas.”
But I wonder whether that label sometimes causes us to overlook the larger story.
In John 20, the other disciples told Thomas they had seen the risen Jesus.
Thomas struggled to believe their testimony and said he wanted physical evidence.
When Jesus appeared again, He invited Thomas to examine the evidence of His resurrection.
And Thomas responded:
“My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28, ESV)
Now, Jesus did challenge Thomas’s unbelief.
He also spoke of the blessing of those who believe without seeing.
So we shouldn’t pretend the passage teaches that every doubt is automatically good.
But I do find something meaningful in the encounter.
Thomas’s struggle wasn’t the end of his story.
He encountered the risen Christ and responded with a powerful confession of faith.
A season of uncertainty doesn’t have to become a lifetime of unbelief.
Sometimes the questions we’re wrestling with become part of the journey toward a deeper understanding of who Jesus is.
Sometimes Our Questions Come From Pain
Not every question about God begins in a classroom or a Bible study.
Some begin in hospital rooms.
At gravesides.
During sleepless nights.
In the middle of a broken relationship.
Or while sitting alone, wondering how life changed so quickly.
Sometimes we aren’t asking a theological question because we’re curious.
We’re asking because we’re hurting.
Why did this happen?
Why didn’t God stop it?
Why did He allow someone I love to suffer?
Why didn’t He answer the way I prayed?
Those questions carry a different kind of weight.
And I think we need to be careful about how we respond to them.
Because sometimes, when someone is grieving, we rush to provide an explanation.
We quote a verse.
We offer a familiar phrase.
We tell them everything happens for a reason.
And while our intentions may be good, we can unintentionally make someone feel as though their pain is a problem that needs to be corrected.
But grief isn’t always something that can be answered with a sentence.
And sometimes the most faithful response isn’t to explain what we don’t know.
It’s to sit beside someone who is hurting.
To listen.
To pray.
To remind them they’re not alone.
We don’t have to explain every painful circumstance in order to point someone toward God’s love.
My Own Story: The More I Learn, the More I Realize I Don’t Know
There’s something interesting about the way my faith has grown over the years.
I think there was a time when I believed having strong faith meant knowing the answers.
Knowing what Scripture said.
Knowing what God expected of me.
Knowing how I was supposed to respond when life became difficult.
And while I’ve always believed in God, I can tell you that my relationship with Him today looks different from what it did years ago.
Not because God has changed.
But because I have.
The more time I spend studying His Word, the more I realize how much I still have to learn.
And sometimes that makes me laugh at myself a little.
Because I’ll read a passage I’ve heard countless times, and suddenly I’ll notice something I never paid attention to before.
Or I’ll be studying a book of the Bible and find myself asking a question I never even thought to ask.
Why did God choose to do it that way?
What was happening in the lives of those people?
What does this passage really mean?
And how does it apply to the life I’m living today?
Sometimes I find the answer.
Sometimes I discover that what I thought I understood wasn’t quite as simple as I believed.
And sometimes I finish studying with more questions than I had when I started.
But here’s what I’ve discovered.
Those questions haven’t pulled me away from God. They’ve made me want to know Him more.
And I think that’s a beautiful thing.
I look back at my life and recognize how many experiences have shaped my faith.
My marriage.
Raising our boys.
Losing Laura.
Watching my family grow.
Walking through difficult seasons.
And experiencing blessings I never could have anticipated.
There are things I understand differently today because of what I’ve lived through.
There are Scriptures that mean more to me now than they did twenty years ago.
Not because the words have changed.
But because I’ve changed.
I’ve lived enough life to recognize that some things aren’t as simple as we want them to be.
And I’ve learned that trusting God doesn’t mean I’ll always understand what He’s doing.
When I think about Laura, there are still questions I could ask.
Why did our time together have to end so soon?
What would our lives look like if she were still here?
What would our family be like today?
I don’t have those answers.
And I may never have them this side of heaven.
But I haven’t allowed those unanswered questions to become the foundation of what I believe about God.
Instead, I’ve continued learning about His character.
His faithfulness.
His mercy.
His grace.
And the hope we have through Jesus Christ.
Something else has happened along the way.
As I’ve spent more time studying Scripture and sharing what I’m learning, I’ve discovered how much I enjoy the conversations that come from it.
I love when someone asks a question that makes us stop and look more closely at a passage.
I love when we realize there’s something we need to study further.
And I love those moments when a Scripture we’ve read before suddenly becomes clearer because we’ve taken the time to understand its context.
I don’t want to be someone who pretends to have all the answers.
Because I don’t.
And I don’t believe admitting that makes my faith weaker.
If anything, it’s reminded me how important it is to keep learning.
To remain humble.
To listen.
To study.
And to recognize that my understanding of God will never be as complete as God Himself.
I think about how my faith has grown over the years, and I’m grateful that God hasn’t required me to understand everything before continuing to walk with Him.
Because if He had, I would still be standing at the very beginning.
Instead, I’ve been able to keep growing.
One experience.
One Scripture.
One question.
One lesson at a time.
And maybe that’s part of what living life graciously means to me.
Giving myself permission to keep learning without pretending I’ve already arrived.
Being willing to admit when I don’t understand something.
And extending that same grace to others who are still asking questions of their own.
I don’t believe my faith is stronger today because I have fewer questions. I believe it’s stronger because I’ve learned where to take them.
To God’s Word.
To prayer.
To wise conversations.
And ultimately, to the God I’m still getting to know more deeply every day.
I hope I never reach a point where I think I’ve learned everything there is to learn about Him.
Because the more I discover, the more I want to know.
And I think that’s a journey worth continuing.
God Doesn’t Owe Us Every Answer
Now, there’s another side of this conversation.
Because while questions aren’t automatically a sign of weak faith, we also need to recognize that God isn’t obligated to explain everything to us.
That’s difficult.
Especially when the questions involve something deeply personal.
We want to understand.
We want to know why.
We want to see how everything fits together.
And sometimes we believe that if we could just get an explanation, we would finally find peace.
But Scripture reminds us that our understanding is limited.
Isaiah 55:8–9 speaks of God’s thoughts and ways being higher than ours.
Those verses aren’t meant to dismiss our pain.
They’re a reminder that God sees and understands what we cannot.
And sometimes we have to acknowledge that we may not receive the answers we’re hoping for.
At least not in this life.
That doesn’t mean our questions were wrong.
But it does mean faith sometimes involves trusting God’s character when we cannot understand His decisions or everything He permits.
We can ask God why without demanding that He explain Himself before we will trust Him.
That’s a difficult kind of surrender.
But it’s also an important part of spiritual maturity.
There’s a Difference Between Doubt and Refusing to Believe
I think we need to distinguish between someone who is sincerely struggling and someone who has decided they won’t consider the truth.
Because not every question comes from the same place.
Some people are wrestling honestly with Scripture.
Some are trying to reconcile their experiences with what they’ve been taught.
Some have been hurt by people who claimed to represent Christ.
Some are facing intellectual questions they haven’t yet been able to resolve.
And some have allowed disappointment or resentment to harden their hearts.
We shouldn’t assume every person who asks a difficult question is rebellious.
But we also shouldn’t assume every expression of doubt is spiritually harmless.
Questions can lead us toward truth when we approach them with humility.
They can also become excuses for avoiding truths we don’t want to accept.
So perhaps the important question isn’t simply whether we have doubts.
Perhaps it’s what we’re doing with them.
Are we seeking understanding?
Are we willing to examine Scripture?
Are we open to correction?
Are we willing to learn?
Or have we already decided what the answer must be?
Faith doesn’t require us to stop thinking. But it does call us to remain humble and teachable.
What Happens When the Answer Doesn’t Come?
This may be one of the hardest parts of faith.
Because sometimes we ask.
We pray.
We study.
We seek counsel.
We wait.
And we still don’t understand.
The circumstances don’t change.
The explanation doesn’t come.
And the question remains.
What do we do then?
I think we have to learn that not every question will be resolved before we can continue walking with God.
Sometimes we move forward with partial understanding.
Sometimes we hold a question for years.
Sometimes we learn something later that changes our perspective.
And sometimes we simply don’t know.
Second Corinthians 5:7 reminds us that believers walk by faith, not by sight.
That doesn’t mean we ignore evidence, abandon wisdom, or refuse to think carefully.
It means our relationship with God isn’t dependent on being able to see and understand everything ahead of us.
Sometimes faith is continuing to walk with God while carrying a question that hasn’t been answered.
And that can require tremendous trust.
We Need Churches Where People Can Ask Honest Questions
Here’s something I think matters deeply.
If we want people to grow in their faith, we need to create spaces where they can ask sincere questions without immediately feeling judged.
Especially young people.
But not only young people.
Adults have questions, too.
People who have attended church their entire lives have questions.
People who teach Bible studies have questions.
People who have walked with God for decades have questions.
And sometimes they remain silent because they’re afraid of what others will think.
They worry someone will question their faith.
Or assume they’re spiritually immature.
Or tell them they should already know the answer.
But what if we approached those conversations differently?
What if we listened first?
What if we opened Scripture together?
What if we admitted when we didn’t know something?
What if we encouraged thoughtful study instead of offering quick answers simply to end an uncomfortable conversation?
First Peter 3:15 instructs believers to be prepared to give a reason for their hope, doing so with gentleness and respect.
I think that matters.
Because truth doesn’t become less true when we approach people gently.
And compassion doesn’t require us to compromise what Scripture teaches.
A church should be a place where people are encouraged to grow in truth, not a place where they’re afraid to admit what they don’t yet understand.
Sometimes the Question Changes as We Grow
Have you ever looked back at something you struggled with years ago and realized you see it differently now?
Maybe you once asked:
“Why is God making me wait?”
And later you began asking:
“How can I remain faithful while I wait?”
Maybe you once asked:
“Why did this happen to me?”
And eventually you began asking:
“How can I honor God in the middle of what happened?”
Maybe you once asked:
“Why isn’t God giving me what I want?”
And later you began asking:
“Am I willing to trust Him with an outcome I cannot control?”
Notice something.
Those newer questions don’t necessarily answer the original ones.
They don’t explain the suffering.
They don’t erase the disappointment.
And they don’t make every difficult experience good.
But they may reflect a change in our perspective.
Sometimes spiritual growth doesn’t mean finally receiving an explanation.
Sometimes it means learning to ask questions that help us live faithfully even without one.
The question may remain, but our relationship with God can continue growing around it.
Faith Isn’t the Absence of Questions
I think we sometimes imagine faith as a room where every uncertainty has been removed.
Every doubt resolved.
Every question answered.
Every difficult circumstance explained.
But that’s not what most of our lives look like.
We believe in a faithful God while living in a world where suffering still exists.
We trust His promises while waiting for things we cannot yet see.
We believe He is good while experiencing circumstances that are deeply painful.
We follow Him while continuing to learn.
And sometimes we carry questions that don’t have simple answers.
Hebrews 11 reminds us of people who lived by faith.
Some witnessed extraordinary deliverance.
Others suffered.
Some received what had been promised in particular circumstances.
Others died without seeing the full fulfillment of what they hoped for.
Their faith wasn’t measured by whether life unfolded exactly as they expected.
It was demonstrated in their continued trust in God.
And I think that’s important for us to remember.
Faith isn’t knowing everything. Faith is knowing whom we trust, even while we’re still learning.
How Do We Handle Our Questions Faithfully?
If you’re wrestling with questions about God, I want to encourage you to approach them intentionally.
Bring them to God in prayer.
You don’t need elaborate words. Tell Him what you’re struggling to understand.
Search Scripture carefully.
Don’t settle for a single verse taken out of context. Spend time learning what the Bible actually teaches.
Seek wise counsel.
Talk with mature believers who will listen thoughtfully and help you examine your questions through Scripture.
Be willing to say, “I don’t know.”
There’s humility in acknowledging the limits of our understanding.
Remember what you do know about God’s character.
His holiness, faithfulness, mercy, justice, and love are revealed throughout Scripture.
And don’t let an unanswered question become an excuse to stop walking with Him.
You may not understand everything today.
You may still be learning.
You may still be waiting.
But you can continue growing in faith while you seek understanding.
A Prayer for Faith in the Middle of Questions
Father,
You know the questions I carry.
Some are small.
Some are difficult.
And some come from places in my heart that still hurt.
There are things I don’t understand about Your Word, Your ways, and the circumstances You’ve allowed in my life.
Sometimes I’m afraid to ask.
Sometimes I worry that having questions means my faith isn’t strong enough.
But I want to know You more deeply.
Give me the courage to bring my questions to You honestly and reverently.
Help me search Your Word with an open heart.
Surround me with wise people who will encourage me to seek truth.
Protect me from pride, bitterness, and the temptation to believe that my understanding must be complete before I can trust You.
Teach me to recognize the difference between a sincere desire to understand and an unwillingness to accept what You’ve revealed.
And when the answers don’t come, help me remain faithful.
Remind me of what I know about Your character.
Help me trust You in the places where my understanding is limited.
And continue growing my faith, even in the middle of my questions.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
A Final Thought
Maybe you’ve been carrying a question for a long time.
Maybe something happened that changed the way you see the world.
Maybe you’ve been studying Scripture and struggling to understand a particular passage.
Maybe you’ve experienced disappointment that left you wondering where God was.
Or maybe you’re simply trying to grow in your faith and discovering that the more you learn, the more questions you have.
I want you to remember something.
You don’t have to pretend you understand everything in order to walk faithfully with God.
You can ask sincere questions.
You can acknowledge uncertainty.
You can seek wisdom.
You can admit when something is difficult.
And you can continue trusting Him while you’re learning.
Because the goal of faith isn’t to become someone who never asks questions.
It’s to become someone who keeps turning toward God, even when the answers aren’t immediately clear.
Faith and questions can live in the same room.
The question is whether we’ll allow those questions to draw us into a deeper relationship with God or use them as a reason to turn away from Him.
So keep praying.
Keep learning.
Keep searching Scripture.
Keep growing.
And when you encounter something you don’t understand, don’t assume your faith has failed.
Sometimes the most meaningful growth begins when we’re willing to admit that we still have something to learn.
That’s faith in real life.
Grateful for His grace. Gracious with His love.