I. Quote: Practice is medicine for the doubting mind and fragile heart.
II. Question: What can you do this week to push back against your unbelief?
III. Something Extra: In honor of Luther Vandross' birthday last week, one of my favorite clips of a moment between him and Whitney Houston at the 1:10 mark. The lesson? Remember what you got.
Friend,
Last week, as people celebrated Derek Chauvin’s guilty verdict in the streets, I sat unmoved at my laptop. I liked a few tweets, texted my sister and then went back to work as if nothing had happened. I had no desire to cheer or opine about what it might mean because, frankly, I felt no joy. I was in a pragmatic and cynical mood, wondering "Is celebrating a murder conviction really the goal here? People are dying. Is this the best it gets? What is the point of all of this?"
I’m a natural born optimist and a student of social change. But despite my deep belief that the arc of the moral universe bends towards justice, doubt had crept in and wouldn’t let go.
As I reflected on the feeling, I realized that this type of doubt, the kind that challenged a fundamental belief of mine, was familiar. I’d had it before. Often, in fact. And not just about social issues. I’d felt that feeling at various times in my life about my work, my calling, even myself. And I’d heard it from others who in their most vulnerable, honest moments dared to tell the truth:
An entrepreneur friend doubting that the venture that they’d poured their heart and soul into was worth it. A brilliant artist wondering if their work holds any value and if they should even call themselves an artist. An elder activist friend wondering if she’d had any impact at all in her 20 years of campaigning. An excellent mother whose heart was nearly breaking, wondering if she's really any good.
In our secret places, we sometimes doubt the beliefs, identities and truths that we hold most dear.
These are feelings that we're ashamed to admit because we want to appear confident at all times and in all things. We want to be seen as people who know who we are and what we should be doing and how the world should be. We want to be the perfect ambassadors for truth.
But in my moment of cynicism, I was reminded of this exchange from Scripture that my mother used to read often in our church when I was a child. In it Christ says to a man: “All things are possible if you believe.” And the man replies back "I believe. Help my unbelief."
I believe. Help my unbelief.
It's one of my favorite stories because you can literally hear the internal fight within him: I believe! I really do. But also...I’m doubting. I’m afraid. I”m skeptical. Help me!
How many times have you felt like that? Holding on to your belief by a thread? Sometimes even too afraid to say the words “I am”, “I know” or “I hope” because you’re sure that if you open your mouth to speak, all of the doubt in your mind and fear in your heart will come tumbling out instead?
First of all, know this: Doubt is not the enemy of our belief. It is a companion. It is the natural side effect of being alive, aware and in your right mind. So congratulations! You’re not weak or hypocritical. You are just alive in a culture that is constantly reflecting negative, limiting messages back to us about who we are and what is possible. Who wouldn't see what we see every day and question their higher ideals and vision?
Living a life of meaning and doing our work sometimes requires a level of delusion that flies in the face of facts, feelings, and conventional wisdom.
Doubts about ourselves creep in because of comparison, gatekeepers, odds or setbacks. And doubts about our righteous ideals creep in when the world reminds us that not enough people share them—and the people who don’t seem to have all the power.
There is no shame in admitting that sometimes a voice inside of you whispers “No. You can’t have that. You aren’t that. That won’t work. This will never change.” Because no matter how much faith you have, no faith is perfect. We just need some help to gird us up in those imperfect moments.
One way that I help myself overcome those doubts is to "act as if". I take action and do the very thing that reaffirms that my belief is already true. I do that thing again and again until it becomes my practice.
I don't mean practice as in "to prepare for a performance'. I mean practice as in doing something over and over again habitually, as ritual".
When I doubt that I am a writer, I write. When I doubt that the world can be better, I give and serve in a way that shows me real people with real needs being met. I get out of my head and do the thing that I am questioning most.
You are because you do, despite what the world (or your own doubt) says. In that way, practice is both identity forming and reality manifesting. Not because of some hocus pocus metaphysical magic but because
So when your belief is shaky, commit to a practice and stand on it.
I know that there is an uncomfortable vulnerability in doing something in the exact moment when you don't fully believe it. Is it foolish to keep working towards this goal when you’re questioning whether or not it’s achievable? Or to keep creating and making things when you don't know if it will ever lead anywhere? Is it delusional to keep hoping and fighting if you’re not 100% sure that you will see a just world in your lifetime?
Answer those questions with the work. Acting as if in those moments strengthens you, lifts you up and makes you better. It doesn’t KILL the doubt but it limits its power over you. As we mature, unbelief becomes a quiet, backseat passenger as our practice drives us to where we need to go.
This week, I encourage you to commit to a joyful practice in the area where nagging discouragement, cynicism, hopelessness or insecurity has its grip on you.
Don't be ashamed of that place or back away from it. Do the thing that strengthen your resolve and turn away from all that threatens in.
I know you still believe. Sometimes, you just need a little help.
Love,
