The afternoon sun collaborated with the stained glass windows, throwing color across the wooden pew that I slipped into.
I knelt and stared at the tabernacle.
After a long silence, I said aloud the thought that was racing through my mind, “I don’t know if I believe in You.” It wasn’t the first time I had said that to God and it wasn’t the last.
When doubt first entered my heart, I pushed it away, but over the years I’ve come to recognize this feeling as a spiritual attack.
The devil is the father of lies and loves to wreak havoc, and the idea that God is dead creates chaos in my heart (see John 8:44). All the demons in Hell would love to rob me of my peace and joy, to take away the foundation of my life, marriage, and purpose. So they whisper the lies in my ear that God is not real, the Church is a sham, the Blessed Sacrament is just bread.
When they attack, I fight back with truth and continue my conversation with my loving Father:
You have to be real because I have felt You in ways that I cannot explain.
I have known the 'peace that surpasses all understanding' (Philippians 4:7).
I have felt the fire of the Holy Spirit.
I have seen You work all things together for the good of those who love You (Romans 8:28).
You brought my son back to life after sixty-one pulseless minutes.
Jesus Christ conquered death.
God loves me.
And I love You. I know You and I love You. And You love me.
Jesus tells Nicodemus, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up so that everyone who believes in Him might have eternal life” (John 3:14-15). I’m so grateful that God has given us stories and mementos to help us remember the healing and salvation He has done in our own lives.
When doubt tries to creep in, I cling to those personal encounters I’ve had with God so I can trust and rest in His Word.
Christ is victorious and I believe in Him.