When Faith Feels Fuzzy

Read

John 20:24–29 “Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord!’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.’ A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you!’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.’ Thomas said to him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Then Jesus told him, ‘Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’”

Think

Doubt gets a bad rap in church circles. Like it’s some kind of spiritual failure, a red flag, a disease to avoid. But Scripture doesn’t cancel doubters. It draws them close.

Enter Thomas.

He gets labeled “Doubting Thomas,” but that’s not entirely fair. He was loyal. Brave. The kind of guy who once said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16). But when resurrection rumors started swirling, Thomas wasn’t there. He missed the first appearance. And he didn’t pretend to be okay with that. “Unless I see... I won’t believe,” he said.

Ever been there? When the stories of others’ faith don’t quite land? When you sit in small group and everyone’s nodding, and you’re silently thinking, “I don’t feel any of this right now!”?

Thomas is your guy. And here’s the grace: Jesus didn’t rebuke him for needing more. He gave him more. He came back just for Thomas. One week later, Jesus reappeared—not in anger, but with an invitation. “Put your hand here. Touch the wounds.”

Jesus didn’t shame Thomas out of his doubt. He loved him through it.

That’s what makes Christianity so radically different. We don’t serve a God who hides behind mystery or demands blind loyalty. We serve a Savior who says, “Come close. Ask your questions. Touch the scars.”

Tim Keller once said, “A faith without some doubts is like a human body without any antibodies.” In other words, doubt isn’t the opposite of faith. It’s often the door to deeper faith. Honest wrestling can lead to unshakable belief—if we bring our questions to Jesus instead of running from him.

And notice what Thomas says once he sees Jesus: “My Lord and my God!” Not just “Okay, you’re alive.” He goes all in. That’s the most profound confession of faith in the whole Gospel. The doubter becomes the declarer.

Jesus follows up with a blessing: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” That’s us. He’s talking about you and me. Those who believe without the physical proof. And yet—we still get the presence. The peace. The Spirit. The wounds, made visible through Scripture and the Church.

If your faith feels fuzzy today—if you’ve got more questions than answers—you’re not failing. You’re human. Just don’t hide it. Bring it. Touch the wounds. Speak the questions. And wait for Jesus to meet you there. Because he will.

Apply

Name one question or doubt that’s been lingering under the surface. Say it out loud or write it in your journal.

Now, instead of trying to solve it, simply invite Jesus into it. You might pray: “Lord, I don’t understand this yet—but I trust that you’ll meet me in it.”

Reach out to someone mature in faith and talk about it—someone who won’t rush to fix, but will sit with you in the questions.

Pray

Jesus, thank you for being patient with my questions. For not flinching at my doubts. For showing me that faith isn’t pretending—it’s pressing in. Help me believe, even when it’s hard. Open my eyes to see you. Let my doubts lead me to deeper trust, not further distance. You’re not threatened by my honesty. You welcome it. In Jesus’ name. Amen.