There is a game that team building seminars like to force their participants to play. It involves a group of people, lets say 4-10 or so, standing in a circle staring at each other awkwardly. In the middle of their circle is a hula hoop from Wal-Mart that cost about a dollar and some poor kid’s hand in Bangladesh who made it. Every one puts out their hands, pointing index fingers, arms at 90 degrees tucked into the waist. The moderator places the hula hoop on the top of everyone’s index finger in the circle and tells the group to lower the hula hoop without removing their fingers from the bottom of the hula hoop. Instantly the ring seems to levitate as every member of the group over compensates for each other and instead of lowering the hoop, it is raised above the group’s heads.

I am fortunate to have a job that allows me to read a book, write the occasional blog article draft or scan the news while waiting for employees to call and ask HR questions. On a daily basis I read CNN, Fox News, BBC, San Antonio Express News, etc. and I see how partisan this country can be. Being bipartisan is vogue, but nobody really wants to do it because it will sacrifice some benefit, most often reelection to a seat of power. We only claim bipartisanship because we want to seem tolerant and effective. I say we because the average citizen, myself included, is just as guilty of power mongering as the leaders in power. Nobody wants to give up their position, nobody really wants to sacrifice control in order to accomplish the task, unless it is the task they want done.

It’s not abnormal. I’m pretty confident it’s human nature, part of the inherent sin nature humans carry. The same nature that causes greed and pride and hate and wars. Everyone has an agenda to achieve, everybody wants a piece. The Bible calls it sin, some specify it as total depravity. It’s broken and doesn’t fix anything. The hula hoop keeps rising.

After several failed attempts, the group learns it needs to communicate with each other and gradually lower their hands, working together collectively so that no finger leaves the ring, yet the ring is lowered.

Will that ever happen with politics, or more specifically, with our leaders in power? Has it ever been achieved in the whole history of governance? I see war after war, tyrant after tyrant, revolution after revolution, and tyrant after tyrant. Again, it’s just part of human nature, but it hurts a whole lot of people in the process. I think part of the problem is that we have become conditioned to see governments as a functional savior. We expect so much from a bureaucratic process to provide any comfort we demand. People forgot how to work, forgot how to struggle. Now we struggle waiting for hand outs, for the people in charge to fix whatever problem we feel is most important at that time. Instead of collaboration, we have dependence.

I dont look at the problems with this country from a political stand point, not really. I see it as a fundamental issue of who is sovereign. We give sovereignty to whoever will help us; rights for security. Instead we have ignored the Moderator, the Giver, the Breath of Life. We focus on mountains and not on the One who can move the mountains. We dont communicate in community, we dont work with each other to build.

Governments aren’t Jesus and they will fail us. They will never have a perfect record. But Jesus is Jesus, the King of EVERYTHING, even you, whether you believe it or not. He is perfect and lived a perfect life so that we can live past the brokenness and the want. We have a hope that doesn’t disappoint in a future with the greatest and most valuable Being EVER. Our problems may not immediately be fixed, we probably wont ever be healthy and wealthy, but we’ll have the one thing that is supremely valuable.

We used to say In God We Trust but that’s a whole lot of BS. We dont trust in God any more and thats why we cant lower the hula hoop.

I spent Saturday night and Sunday morning at a simulated homeless event hosted by my church called Squatter Camp(out). It was a one time sleep over for college and young career twenty-somethings to have a taste at feeling homelessness. Participants scrounged together cardboard, bits of PVC, tape and tarpaulins to create hideous temporary shelters piled with blankets and the occasional iPod.

I almost didn’t show up at all. My couch was cozy and I was enjoying my Costco pasta while watching Season 2 of Friends. My friends on the front lawn of our church were enjoying a community pot of canned goods they donated that somebody deceitfully called soup.

Eventually I felt like a waste of space, grabbed a bedroll, and headed for the church, a ten minute drive through traffic lights. When I left I was sweating. By the time I got there a light jacket was required for comfort.

People were gathered around a small fire pit bundled in hoodies and scarves while my friend Caleb Saenz tuned his guitar with his wife for some acoustic worship. Our beloved college minister Kyle Burkholder gave a small homily as the temperature rapidly dropped.

Kyle explained that he had been a part of an impromptu debate on Facebook about the purpose of our event. Kyle and the college ministry were accused of self-serving motives, creating a pointless event to help its participants feel better about their part in social justice. Does sleeping in a box for one night provide a permanent home to the homeless? Does sacrificing comfort and food feed the pour?

Kyle answered that no justice was done. Obviously no one was clothed, fed, or housed because of our campout. The meager amount of registration money wouldn’t change lives once donated. The point was to give the rich –because even post-grads and newly-weds are rich– a taste of what it is like without having plenty.

I didn’t want to hassle with cardboard and roughed it under the stars instead, treating the event more of a showcase for my camping prowess and less of a meditation on the suffering. I used a ground cloth, saddle blanket, sleeping bag and two spare serape blankets for extra warmth and for my dog, Bonnie. She was happy and delighted to see so many people and we were both prepared for the cold having spent many nights camping together in the winter.

The night drew on and one by one people drifted off to their shanty town shelters to try and sleep. The breeze whistled through uneven portholes cut in the cardboard for breathing. There was still several people up and awake when I wrapped up in my bag. I was quite warm but I couldn’t sleep because the dog whined the whole night. When I “woke” up at sunrise (more like succumbed to my deep need to pee) I realized that dew had fallen all over me and my blankets and it was probably very uncomfortable for my dog who was shivering and staring at me intently. I put her in my truck with dry blankets and helped break camp with the other 51 miserable campers. Anticipating church, I shaved using a coffee cup and a truck window, missing several spots and roughing up my face with the cold water.

It sunk in more and more as we got into heated cars and drove to Tommy’s for breakfast tacos, as we went home, showered off the campfire smoke and sticky sleep and shaved with hot water. I crawled up on my couch with a real pillow and felt my neck ache. The experience seemed to apex during our follow up devotional Sunday night.

Kyle explained awareness solves very little if anything. The more people know about the two billion people, or a third of the planet, that live on a dollar a day and die from hunger everyday, the more they don’t actually do anything. It is out of sight out of mind. I’ve seen Hotel Rwanda and have heard about the genocides in Darfur, but I don’t do anything about it. Sleeping in a box doesn’t give a home to the homeless.

Awareness needs to generate action. For the rest of the day I was struck with how thankful I am for a breezeless home where I don’t wake up daily with cold dew (discovering cardboard can be a luxury). Every dollar I spent screamed of my fortuitousness even though I struggle with rent and medical bills sometimes. I had real food at home, not slop in a pot. In the grace that God has given me, salvation included, I learned that every little thing I have is a gift and how I’ve taken it for granted.

I was challenged with this question as I went to sleep in my queen size bed with fluffy comforter: Will I continue to live like I deserve real food, a job, and an insulated apartment, or will I walk and live and act in a way that appreciates what I have been given? Will I give back, or ignore the tragedy?

Awareness highlights what needs to be done but it doesn’t actually DO anything. Action is needed. However small, it is needed.

P.S. When we got home my dog drank a whole bowl of water then curled up on her large dog-bed, pointedly glared at me, and went to sleep. We are on good terms again.

After taking a break from the blogosphere for years, I have decided to recalibrate the purpose and the content of Awake! I want this blog to focus on hope that doesn’t disappoint. I want it to focus on rebuilding when our financial and personal infrastructure collapses. When tragedy after tragedy numbs us to joy, I want this blog to be a herald, big or small, for looking up. It isn’t optimism but realism. I am about being something bigger than myself and making people discuss the big picture. My hope isn’t built on presidents, governments, or money, but built on nothing less than Jesus Christ and His righteousness.

That might offend you. That might make you switch to another blog to other opinions. I don’t really care. I care about being ruggedly authentic and speaking truth. If you don’t like what I have to say, that’s fine. Please don’t abuse me with your anger and move on. Whether you agree or disagree, please feel free to leave respectful feedback.

About Me

I am a white, middle-class twenty something. I graduated from Texas A&M University with a degree in Journalism and Communication. Like everybody else, I was hit hard by the recession. My many post-graduate part-time jobs couldn’t make rent and I was homeless for a brief time, avoiding the streets only by having a medical emergency that landed me in my parent’s guest room. I’ve had deaths in the family and seen so many friends and relatives get married and have babies this past year. My favorite music is the Blues, but yet I can not sing it. I have not been hit any harder by tragedy than anybody else. My experiences are nothing that sets me apart from anybody else. I only offer a general glimpse to give you a background into my articles. I believe in the complete grace of a nail scarred Jesus, King of everything, King of the air we breathe.

Other than that here are a few things about me:

*I drink tea like the English with cream and sugar but drink coffee black.

*I like the old school hard-boiled detective novels of Raymond Chandler.

*I am a typical Texan: I am overly proud of my state and consider it superior to lesser known states like Ohio.

*I have primarily Scottish and German decent with some American Indian in me somewhere.

*I enjoy hiking and doing outdoorsy things though I am overweight and lazy.

*I work HR in a sea of cubicles at a government owned bank, one of the top 3 now, but I hate corporate America and am minorly convinced I’ll be micro-chipped and tracked at any moment.

*My top 5 musical recording artist (circa High Fidelity) are Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrix/Eric Clapton, Shawn McDonald, Weezer, and John Lee Hooker.

Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

Experience at University culminated to this one point: “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

I grew up in comfort that the Deity and I were on the same page. I did no wrong, and he was my homeboy. Just like my t-shirt. That was our relationship, I do my best, he forgives me, and one day I’ll float around on a cloud with my grandparents.

I am from a wealthy family; my father is a banker. I went to a wealthy high school on the wealthy side of town that promoted fake smiles and shallow concern. The churches there all said, “Follow Jesus and you’ll be blessed. You’ll have that BMW.” And nobody argued because everybody wanted that BMW.

We adopted my sister when she was born. She isn’t Anglo, but we love her anyway. Her mother had her at 16 and chose to kill her by giving her away instead of killing her while in the womb. My sister is two years younger than I am.

I went to University to study business. I was going to make it big like my dad; I wasn’t going to worry bout anything. I was going to drive my BMW in my wealthy neighborhood on my wealthy side of town when I graduated. I went to University because that is what every responsible member of society does.

University was three hours from home, two and a half if my foot enjoyed its fellowship with the accelerator. It was in a city not as nice as my own. My friends and I were too busy enjoying our “last party of the summer” parties so we didn’t secure housing in student neighborhoods. All that was left was the inner city.

I moved into a house with three other guys from my old school and church into a neighborhood where dumpsters marked every corner. Old sneakers hung from the power lines. Fast-food trash lined the street curb. Graffiti tagged the freight train in a rush of color as it passed by 20 yards away every hour.

I went to church the first two Sundays of the school year because I was used to it. On the third Sunday I was too tired from playing video games all night so I slept in and enjoyed glorious freedom. I was good enough, not just on Sundays, I didn’t have to go. I knew it all anyway, I had heard the same thing for the past 19 years.

The first month living in our house, my car was broken into. They stole my radio, scattered the contents of my glove box across the lawn, and stole my wheels. The police told me not to hold my breath on catching the guy.

Two weeks later our front door was tagged in the polygonnic style of spray-paint letters. I couldn’t read what it said, but who can?

A week after that I noticed the neighbor’s 9-year-old daughter getting forced into different cars with different older men by her mother a couple times a week. The first couple of times the little girl was screaming and crying, declaring her objections with tears and grabbing her mother, trying to hold on to anything to keep from going away. Each time her mother would slap her face and shove her in the car. From where I sat in my room, peering out through the blinds, I think I saw something trade hands. After a while, the car would come back and the old man of the day would dump the girl off at her house. After a few more trips, the girl would numbly accept her visitor without tears and screaming, just a blank stare and slow movements.

I told my roommates, and we were all horrified, but not disturbed enough to break the concrete bonds between our comfort and us. “What are we supposed to do about it?”

Eventually I noticed a flash of green passing between the older men and the mother at the transfer of the little girl. I didn’t like to watch the process, though it was hard to avoid. Later the mother would walk down to the street corner where the soiled sneakers hung from the power lines. She would flash the green for a flash of white in an exchange with the imposing gentlemen stationed there.

I was tired and wearied that first semester in school, disturbed with the environment I suddenly found myself. I listened to surrounding conversations to see if anybody experienced similar living conditions. Every conversation amongst the little clones of cliques spotted through out campus was of the same topic. Sex, alcohol, the beach, money, celebrities, that’s all I heard. Were they blind? Just down the street where I lived, reality was playing on a dirty blacktop with no shoes or food. I had the same conversations with the same people in high school.

One night, early in the morning, I was awakened by gunfire. I grabbed the baseball bat I kept by my bed and cowered in the closet. Later when the police knocked on my door, I found that the two men at the corner got in an argument and shot each other dead. The little girl’s mother was caught in the crossfire. I watched as medics loaded her bleeding body into the back of the ambulance as social workers carried a tearless 9-year-old to a waiting sedan. Although I hadn’t prayed in a while, I prayed that the girl’s new family wouldn’t sell her into prostitution for cocaine.

Two of my roommates moved out.

* * *

A month later, my mom called me. Small talk was shallow and I could tell she had something important to tell me.

“Your sister is pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“She’s pregnant,” my mother choked.

“She’s 17.”

My mother sobbed on the phone. Through snotty sniffles she told me my sister consensually slept with a 41-year-old coworker, who was married with four kids.

When did she do this? At what time? How did she give herself to a 41-year-old man?! It was absurd. I threw up.

My mother began to call my name, “Jo-.” Somehow, my phone was violently propelled across the room, flinging vomit over the dirty carpet. It left an impact crater in the dry-wall.

Inside, I snapped. My chest was heavy with the despair of it all. Falling to my knees, I grasped for each breath and clenched my hair in my hands. What the hell was wrong with the world? How does a young girl, loved by her family, give herself away like that? And what was so important to argue over that the only settlement was with 9mm bullets?

“Where are you GOD!?” I cried. “Why have you left? How can you let all this happen? I thought you loved us!” Tears, saliva and snot soaked the carpet as I dug my face into it’s fibers and pounded it with my fists. “Why have you LEFT!” I repeated.

And then a voice answered. Though not audible, I felt the words imprint upon my chest.

I have not left. I will never leave you nor forsake you.

You left.

Angry, I cried out, “I left?! I followed every commandment! I never drank nor slept around! I am not like those people outside, I went to church.”

You belittled my name with your sacrifices. As if I needed anything, as if the Creator and King could be served by human hands! I desire your heart, not your vain sacrifices.

Still proud, I stood and haughtily lifted my eyes. “What about that little girl and my sister? How could you have let this happen?”

Will the fault finder contend with the Almighty? Let him who reproves God answer it. Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me, since you know. You left me and ran this life in vain. I have a plan for the little girl and for your sister. I cause all things to work together for good, as if any man’s actions or choice can thwart me. I foreknow, I predestine, I call, I justify, and I glorify. I give and I take away. There is no other God but Me.

Driven back to my knees in fear, I spoke words that were not mine. They welled up in my throat and poured out in worship without my control. “Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to you? I lay my hand on my mouth. Once I have spoken, and I will not answer; even twice, and I will add nothing more.”

Pick up your cross and follow. Go to the little girl and tell her about Me.

* * *

The social worker offered me a chair, which I timidly accepted by the old bunk bed. I was at the orphanage where they took the little girl, Shawna. She was curled into a ball, starring blankly at the wall. Her pillowcase was wet and her cartoon princess sheets were drawn tightly around her, held in clenched, scared hands.

“Hello, Shawna,” I said. She didn’t move, though she blinked. I couldn’t tell if she was listening, but I continued, hoping she would hear anyway. “My name is Job. I have a friend I want you to meet. Many men have hurt you, but He isn’t like any man. He is a King. His name is Jesus…”

Experience at University culminated to this point: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

©Matthew Watson, 2007

And now I think of so many still enslaved. Won’t you free them too? Your grace is enough, your death paid the debt we owe, won’t you take them too?

Lauren is in Nigeria, Kara and Chloe in Tanzania, Rachel in Germany, and the ME team in the Middle East, preaching the gospel to sinners like us. Use them and speak through them. Won’t you take those whom you deserve? What about Kalyn, Linda and the Kids, Jenny, Aimee, Randy, Nando, Glen, AJ, Johann, Danny, Ewasko, and my family? Take them, please!

I don’t want your name to be forsaken in their lives. I don’t want your name to be blasphemed in their hearts. I don’t want your grace to be untasted by their souls. I ask and hope that it is your will that they be saved. I beg that they will become accountable to you now, before your majesty forces them to bow in the end. I beg you for their salvation. Do great things amongst the nations; redeem your tarnished name! Bring back the lost, take the throne, Jesus!

Victory is yours, how can we be in denial of it? You are Savior. You are Lord. You are Sovereign. How can we ignore it? Wickedness and perverseness is this generation. Our culture mixes souls with one another by cheap words and cheaper sex. We belittle every gift you give. We murder children and sacrifice them to the god of convenience. We sell the ideals of fiction and forsake reality. We are blinded and deafened by the sights and sounds of our iniquities.

And your children are spoiled by their rebellion. We wait for heaven but forget the One who will take us there. We sit in our big new buildings with Playstations, Pipe organs, and coffee shops, shaking each other’s hands for being saved. How many of us watch instead of worship? Who is genuinely contrite for their sins and desperate for the refreshing breath of grace, which only you can provide?

Revive us O Lord. Revive the dead and dieing in the great halls of your bride. Command us and give us what you command. Let us seek your righteousness and authentically seek your face, instead of just listening to a song about it.

I have recently read this article in the New York Times about the horrors some children have to go through in Angola (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/15/world/africa/15witches.html?ex=1352782800&en=6a6aec7a1b5f2977&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss ).

I cant believe how broken we are. How far we have run from the Father. Surly, Surly He will see how the wickedness of man is great and our every intent and thought is on evil continuously. Surly He shall see how depraved we are, how enslaved we are, and set us free. Will we ever taste freedom?

What sort of generation buys clothes and pampers dogs but murders their children in the womb? What sort of generation worships celebrity and every hedonistic desire for sex, pleasure and vain-glory yet ignores that a father pumped battery acid into his son’s stomach for fear that the son was a witch?

What sort of wickedness dwells in us that we would see the Creator displayed by the heavens and all of creation yet we worship the corrupt instead of the incorruptible God? How long until the Lord King opens the seals and pours out judgment on this earth?

When, Oh Holy God will You return? You have set us free from our bondage by the death of Your Son! You have set us free and now we can bow and pay fealty to You instead of the darkness! Why do we commit such atrocities against Your Holiness?

Forgive us Lord King, forgive your people, and spare us a little longer so that we may wake up from our stupor of nightmares and apathy! Let us see Your face and call upon the name of the Father to love on the nations, lost in culture and sin! Embolden your people and send us out so that we may seek Your will and bring glory to Your name!

Father forgive us.

Paul and is boys are preaching, proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ, healing folk and causing a riot amongst the peoples of Lystra, Antioch, and Iconium. Gentiles and Jews alike rise up, win over the crowds, and throw big freaking rocks at Paul until they presume he is dead. Then they drag his tattered body outside the city and dump him on the dirt road.

I can see his disciples standing around his body. Some are crying, some are in shock and probably scared. I’m sure Barnabas is praying fervently. And then Paul opens his eyes. He stands up and dusts off his tunic, and then to the astonishment of all normal men, he turns toward the gate of the city and walks back in.

And you know what the Bible says Paul does next? ”Strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, [Paul said], ‘Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.’” (Acts 14:22).

PAUL! You just go boulders dumped on your body, man! Are you okay? WHERE ARE YOU GOING!? Those people just killed you! “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.”

Have you ever heard of such a thing? Did Paul reject those people, pray for a mighty smiting of the town, or forsake God? No. He “preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples.” (v.21).

Does this happen today? Yes.

Here is the URL to an article from the SBC about a man named Jameel in the Middle East. Read it and be encouraged, for even his trials did not turn him from the faith and his love is still strong for his enemies. http://www.sbc.net/redirect.asp?url=http://www.imb.org/. Praise Jesus for witnesses like Jameel! May we never have to be in a similar situation, but if we are, may we react the same way Paul, Stephen (Acts 7:54-60), Jameel, and Jesus did. May we pray on their behalf to God for their salvation out of love and a passion for their very souls.

A friend of ours, AJ Neely, and I tried to bring up angels, certainly everybody believes in angels. He denied their existence too. “What is the point in angels and a devil? He doesn’t need them, why would they exist?”

“Well, He doesn’t need us either, and yet we exist. It is what He has chosen to do,” one of us said.

We were dumbfounded by this denial. Scripture is so explicate about Satan and how he comes to “steal and kill and destroy,” (John 10:10). Ezekiel 28:12-19 tells how Satan, once a beautiful cherub, grew prideful and became unrighteous and was cast down to earth by God. Biblegateway.com found 129 entries when I typed in “Satan,” “Serpent” and “devil” (I have kept in mind that serpent in some cases actually referred to a snake).

In short, evidence is clear and backed up by scripture. The Word of God is inerrant, but sometimes I take the acceptance of that for granted. As my friend showed me, who claims to be a Christian and believes in the Omnipotence, Omnipresence, and Omniscience of God, not everyone believes this.

Doubt in the inerrancy of scripture presents several problems. If you allow the bullet of doubt to penetrate your thinking in one area, what is to keep another bullet from hitting you in another area, next time more vital? Soon “I deny the authenticity of Satan; the scriptures are a metaphor” will become “Jesus wasn’t really the Son of God, but he was such a good, moral teacher and healed so many people that we can attribute this to him as an adjective.” Eventually that too becomes “There is no God, just a way people should treat each other.” If you deny one part you deny it all. A double-minded man is a fool. He builds his house on sand. When the torrents of rain surely come, his house will be washed away (Matthew 7:26-27). He is tossed about like the sea driven by the wind, out of control (James 1:6-7).

You literally have no foundation when you doubt the scriptures. There is no more common ground between you and believers, there is no more joy. What would be the point? If one thing is untrue then all others are untrue! Can you see the lack of logic in this? Can you see that when you doubt what the Almighty Sovereign God says is true, when He cannot lie (Titus 1:2), all His works are perfect (Deuteronomy 32:4), and all His scriptures are inspired by Him (2 Timothy 3:16), you therefore cannot have faith nor hope in eternal glory with Him?

What a miserable burden this produces for the shoulders of the double-minded man! How the lies of Satan, telling people that he does not exist, enslave those whom believe in them. “You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard so that you are not carried away by the error of unprincipled men and fall from your own steadfastness,” (2 Peter 3:17).

Standfast! With all Hell breathing down your neck, with all the sulphury fumes of the lies of the enemy in your ear, STANDFAST! You have the Armor of God for a reason, “so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil,” and, “so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm,” (Ephesians 6:11 & 13).

I can attest that it is not by our own strength that we stand, but by the grace of God. “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me did not prove vain; but I labored even more than all of them, yet not I, but the grace of God with me,” (1 Corinthians 15:10).

Remember the scene in Braveheart of the first major battle between the English and the Scots? William Wallace gave the most hardcore pep-talk on freedom ever then went and taunted the English generals. Shortly afterwards the Scots began to harass the opposing army by lifting their kilts and bellowing war cries. When the armoured cavalry of King Edward the Longshanks charged the starving peasants of Scotland, they did not at first flee. They stoodfast and decimated the cavalry because of their faith in the plans of their leaders. 

For consider the psalmist’s praise “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold,” (Psalm 18:2).

“Where is your faith now? You must not love the Lord, He doesn’t love you. You’re only a disappointment. Did you just call out to Him? He cant hear you, He doesn’t listen to sinners…”

Indeed the attack is great and facilitated by the sabotage of our flesh. We sin because we are a broken people, freed from the curse of the law, but still under the effects of the curse of creation. Even Paul continued to feel the effects of enemy fire (Romans 7:14-20).

We will discuss the nature of doubt, situations in which it occurs, and the cure.

 Doubt 

Def: To be uncertain about; consider questionable or unlikely; hesitate to believe. To distrust. To fear; be apprehensive about. 

doubt. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved July 17, 2007, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/doubt. 

My definition: Doubt: “The lack of faith and failure to believe in an all-powerful God from whom all blessings flow.”

Obviously doubt in the Lord is simply absurd. If we believe that the Word is inerrant, then we believe that He is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-present and He loves us enough to send His only begotten son to die for us while we were yet sinners (John 3:16, Romans 5:8).

Lets look at the Bible…

Doubt is overcome by faith.

Genesis 15:1-6

Abram is presented with the promise of a blessing, descendants numbering more than the stars in the sky. Yet Abram is old and his wife barren, he has no heir. His belief in the Lord to fulfill His promises was “reckoned it to him as righteousness.”

The Lord is with us.

Judges 6:11-16

Gideon is the runt of the runt clan in Israel. He is on his knees grinding some wheat rations so that the Midianites, the people occupying and at war with Israel, couldn’t get it. The Lord approaches him and calls him “valiant warrior” (v. 12). Gideon proceeds to question the Lord, “O my lord, if the LORD is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all His miracles which our fathers told us about…” (v. 13). The Lord tells him to go fight and that “I will be with you” (v. 16).

In both of these situations (let alone the Israelite nation as a whole whom literally saw the power of the Lord lead them out of Egypt, through the waters, while providing food and water in the desert), The Lord gives a command or a promise of blessings that seem, to the men that should receive, impossible given the circumstances. One man is tiny and insignificant in a nation occupied by an enemy army, the other an old sheep herder with no heir and a barren wife. Yet in both situations the Lord takes away the barriers and promises blessings.

God is in control of EVERYTHING.

Luke 8:22-25

Even the wind and the waves answer to Him. We freak out at the slightest bit of trouble and claim to be “perishing.” Let us at least do what the disciples did and go to the One whom has control, the Lord. With all thanksgiving and supplication, let us make our prayers known to God (Philippians 4:4-9).

Doubt causes us to lose stability in the Lord.

2 Peter 3:17, James 1:6-8

Without faith we are double-minded and hypocrites, “driven and tossed by the wind” as the waves of the sea. We lose our steadfastness. We give ground to Satan and give him a foothold in our souls.

How can we be sure? The cure: Fruits of Faith 

Philippians 2:12-13 says to work out our salvation with fear in trembling. We are saved by grace through faith, not of our own works, so that no man can boast (Eph 2:8-9). Therefore our works are to prove, or show our faith.

The tree is known by its fruit.

Matthew 12:33-35

Good produces good; evil, evil. How can an evil man speak what is good for our speech reveals what is in our hearts. Therefore is we are indwelled with the Holy Spirit as Christians, we produce fruit of the spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). Do our actions and our fruit reflect the Holy Spirit inside us, or are we quenching it? Remember that the Lord works in us “both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” (Philippians 2: 13) We can not do it, it must be from the Lord. As Paul says “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not.” (Romans 7:18).

Faith is the antidote of doubt.

Hebrews 11:1, Romans 5:3-5

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and hope doesn’t disappoint because the love of God has been poured out onto our hearts through the Holy Spirit. Exult in trials for the Lord uses them to build faith. And faith in the Lord produces fruit, profit, proven character, spiritual maturity. This brings about hope. You doubt? Rejoice and have faith in the Lord for He is in control and directs our steps (Proverbs 16:9). “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2-4).   

Strive for the fruit.

Galatians 5:22-23

Pray earnestly for these things, for you know as a sinner, saved by grace, that we are inadequate. Even praying seems empty and barren. This is a lie from the enemy. Our only cure is the Lord. Ask Him to fill you with His spirit.

So when the enemy comes to tell you lies, you can point to tangible proof that you are indeed a child of the Lord, freed from the curse of the law by the death of Jesus (Romans 6:6-11). Point to the Spirit, point to His promises, point to Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith.

This then is the chief end of man: to produce fruit to glorify God. Let us endure, fixing our eyes on Jesus Christ. Be encouraged that the Lord does not forsake His children. You were saved, you have been saved, you are being saved, and you will be saved.