EARLIER THIS year I tried being vegan. Both my parents are vegan, one of my co-workers (tries) to be vegan and they all love it. In my eternal quest to try to eat and be healthier while living on the road, I thought this would introduce some healthy guidelines that would be easy to follow.

So I said good-bye to cheese and bacon, and hello to a world of plants. I thought.

By the end of my three month trial I had gained weight and was hungry more frequently than ever. I found myself irritable, grumpy and exhausted at the end of every day. How could I be ignoring all my favourite foods and STILL be so unhealthy?

Turns out I wasn’t ignoring ALL my favorite foods. Some days instead of eating carrot sticks and hummus I would just chow down on an entire bag of chips. Or the only thing I’d eat from dinner was the coconut ice cream, or I’d have three pieces of toast and plant-based margarine for breakfast. I was basically living on an all carb diet with some fruits and vegetables thrown in for good measure. No wonder it wasn’t working.

The reason I’m telling you this story isn’t because I think a vegan lifestyle is horrible and unhealthy (when done correctly I'm sure it's great, I just love potato chips too much!) I’m telling you this story because I think we all have our own brand of unhealthy spirituality we keep under wraps.

Maybe you don’t struggle with doubts in your faith in the traditional sense: i.e. you don’t struggle to believe Jesus was real, or that the Bible is the word of God, or that there is a heaven. Good for you. But maybe you doubt that God really loves you.

You doubt Jesus died to save your sin.

You doubt his ability to provide your next paycheque.

You doubt he has goodness behind all the pain.

You doubt he’s sovereign in your circumstances.

You doubt, you doubt, we doubt.

In other words, you might be vegan but that doesn’t mean you’re healthy.

I’m not trying to make anyone here feel bad about themselves, but I am trying to destroy the notion that one form of doubt is better than another.

“But Gabby,” you might say, “I don’t struggle to believe Jesus is God, I just struggle to believe he loves me.”

To which I would remind you that Jesus not only says he’s the son of God, but that’s he is the embodiment of love, here to take away the sins of the world. Doubting and disbelieving one aspect of who Jesus says he is isn’t holier than another. They’re just different because we’re all created and wired differently, and (thankfully!) Jesus makes room for us all at the table. Yesterday we looked at how Jesus interacts with doubters: he’s patient (John 21:8), he sends them out to make disciples (Matt 28:16-20), he shows them physical evidence (John 20: 20), he asks the Holy Spirit to open their minds (Luke 24: 45).

Today I want to talk about how we treat each other.

We have this disease where we secretly celebrate other people’s failures. It makes us feel better about ourselves, because while we may not be perfect, at least we’re not like them. That’s how the Pharisees treated sinners and doubters— with self-righteousness and shame.

Jesus has much harsher words for Pharisees than he ever did for his disciples in the deepest moments of their doubt and suffering.

Walking in faith isn’t all about a path to perfection, it’s about us bringing our real selves before the real God. Jesus is our righteouness, which means he desires your authentic self, no matter how broken you may feel.

The main story line of the Bible is the collective journey of broken doubters, clinging to God for hope, salvation and peace.

Abraham doubted he’d have a son.

Moses doubted Pharaoh would let his people go.

The Israelites doubted the promise land (like so much!)

So let’s come alongside side each other in times of confusion and doubt, trusting these things are just part of the journey. Jesus might use you to display his patience, you to make disciples, you to prove the evidence, and you to open someone else mind. While doubt may be part of our story, fear and isolation don't have to be.

So I’ll leave you with this encouragement from the book of Jude, written by Jesus’ own brother:

“But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourself in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt…” (Jude 20-22)

Go, have mercy on those who doubt.

I remember sitting in my first Bible study as a fifteen year old and feeling out of place. I’d been raised in a Christian home, I owned a Bible, I’d heard all these things before, and yet I had questions and feelings about the things I was reading. Everyone else seemed so sure, so confident, so in tune with Jesus, like they had him on speed dial. Their Bibles were marked up and dog-eared. While mine looked newish even though I’d had it since my baptism when I was 12. I was too scared to ask my questions, to reveal my doubt, so I shoved it away.

Fast-forward six years and I’m in college, my Bible is frayed and marked up. I know all the right answers to all the questions. I’ve this Christianity thing on lock, and yet there’s this nagging question in the back of my mind: is this enough? Am I doing this right? I’m trying to put forth a sure and confident front, but inside there are still questions and doubt.

Another six years and I’m married, I work for a Christian band, I love Jesus with my whole heart but to be honest there are still days I struggle being real with my Christian peers. And sometimes that fear leaks into my relationship with God. Some days I still feel like that 15 year old looking around at the kids in my Bible study wondering how they can seem so confident and sure about their faith. Sometimes it feels like I’m alone.

But I know I’m not. We just don’t like to talk about doubt in Christian community. We don’t like grey areas. We don’t like things that don’t feel black and white, or not having answers. It’s scary.

When I experience doubt, cynicism or fear I either ignore it— stomp it out, hide it in the closet, under the bed, pretend it doesn’t exist— or I brood over it privately keeping it alive. I do this because it’s too scary to share these things with other Christians. Because somewhere, somehow, having doubts and fears has turned into not being a good Christian. I’m afraid by sharing my doubt I’ll be shamed for not “just having faith.”

But Jesus doesn’t shame doubters. Instead he asks them to make disciples. Yeah you read that correctly. Let me show you what I mean.

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:16-20)

This is the story: Jesus dies. He rises again. He gathers his friends. And some of them are like “Yeah I’m not sure.” But their doubt doesn’t stop him. Jesus doesn’t say “Okay everyone who is feeling great about everything can you step aside so I can give you a special assignment?”

He sends them all.

Okay here’s another story: Jesus meets a Samaritan woman at a well. They talk. She’s sarcastic and snarky. He’s patient and kind. Eventually he tells her things about her life and heart no one has ever known. She too gets sent back into town to tell her friends about Jesus.

“Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?’” (John 4:39)

Even after Jesus tells her everything she’s ever done she has more questions, not less. Jesus doesn’t shame doubters, he sends them into the world to share his love and truth. Why?

I think it’s because he knows that even doubters (like me) have an important story to tell. He knows some of us are going to have questions. He knows faith doesn’t come naturally to us all. There’s no shame is bringing him our questions, doubts and fears. He is big enough to handle them all, and there’s grace enough to work through the process of not knowing the answers.

So if Jesus doesn’t shame doubt, then why do we as the church?

Why is it that I get nervous butterflies that make my stomach a little queasy when I think about sharing these raw and vulnerable thoughts with the world?

I’m scared you’ll judge me. I’m scared you’ll think I don’t love Jesus. I’m scared you’ll think my faith isn’t rooted, strong or even real. I’m scared of what you’ll think.

But I know that if I feel this way, there there are others that do too. I’m tired of shoving my doubts and fears into a corner. Jesus doesn’t, why should I?

So today, day one of this seven day devotional, I want to create a new space. This place is for the ones who don’t have all the answers, and the ones who think they do. It’s for those of you praying “I believe! Help my unbelief!” It’s for Martha who’s afraid of what will (or won’t!) happen if she stops for even a second. It’s for Thomas who needs proof. It’s for Gideon who needs a sign. It’s for David who is afraid he’ll never climb out of the pit. It’s for Jonah who is the worst-best missionary. It’s for the thief on the cross who just wants to be remembered.

It’s because even if we as Christians sometimes lack grace and patience with one another, Jesus doesn’t. He’s standing, arms wide open, ready to sit down with you and talk it through.

You may leave with more questions instead of answers. You may find it scary and uncomfortable.

That’s okay. Grab your coffee, and let’s get ready to bring our real selves before the real God, resting in the truth that he already knows it all.

We don’t have to be ashamed.