Thoughts on Doubt and Love

“Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

When I was on my mission, my mission president’s wife told us,

“You can’t convert anybody above your own level of belief.”

I remember feeling vaguely uncomfortable when she said that, because I was never quite sure how well I believed.  Given the way my mission turned out, I guess she was right.

I have always doubted, from the time I was a child.  It’s difficult to describe how it feels to grow up in doubt.  When other kids were playing in the mud or dressing up dolls, I spent hours asking God to assure me I was right in His eyes.

And then comes the inevitable extension: when doubt evolves into something more. When familiar words and rituals that once brought strength become a source of confusion, even anger. When peace gives way to pressure.  When clarity becomes despair–

And you find yourself straddling two worlds that might look different but are really the same: those who know it’s true, and those who know it’s not.

Is there no fellowship for the uncertain?

I’m reading the Gospel of John right now, and I’m struck by the Master’s tenderness toward the outcasts, the unjust, and the downtrodden. And I’ve always loved the story when the man approaches the Savior with his sick daughter and cries out with tears, “Lord I believe; help thou my unbelief!”

Christ doesn’t hesitate; He heals the child.

Doubt is a lonely road.  But there are moments, even when I’m languishing in utter confusion and near despair, that I feel His presence near me, urging me to look up, reach out, move beyond myself and lift another.

I think one of the most profound implications of grace is the realization that everyone–everyone–is in need of the Savior’s loving kindness.  The sinners.  The haters.  The overconfident. And the doubters, too.