god welcomes our questions
by: abby sexton
I remember growing up in church and feeling like I needed to know all the answers. Raised in a Christian home, my family was deeply involved in our local church. In Sunday School, I prided myself on knowing more than the other kids in my class. I was active in AWANA, memorizing and reciting verses at lightning speed—so much so that my church had to order a second book because I finished the first one so quickly, and I loved earning jewels and patches to show how much I knew.
One Christmas season, I remember eagerly raising my hand to recite Luke 2:8–14 from memory. I had learned it by heart after watching A Charlie Brown Christmas about twenty times a year. No one had asked me to—I just wanted to share.
Up until 5th grade, I was homeschooled. Then I attended a Christian private school for 6th and 7th grade before transitioning to public school from 8th through 12th. In 7th grade Bible class, we read a story about a pastor’s daughter who told her parents she no longer believed in God. Her father gently told her, “We don’t want you to believe just because your mom and I do—you need to believe it for yourself.”
I remember asking myself, “Do I believe in Jesus for myself, or just because my parents do?” As an avid people pleaser, primarily with adults in authority, I struggled with the idea of going against my parents, Sunday school teachers, and every spiritual authority I had known.
Then public school began in 8th grade – and for the first time I was around people who believed differently. I was around atheists, Buddhists, and Muslims. My mind was spinning - I knew we couldn’t all be right.
Through high school and into college, I began to ask questions. Thankfully, my K-Life leaders in high school walked with me through conversations about different world religions, helping me understand how Christianity stood apart. In college, I found a church that felt like a safe place—where I could finally drop the pressure to perform spiritually. I met women a few years ahead of me who poured into my life, answered my questions, and reignited my passion for reading the Word.
Still, I wrestled with guilt. Was I failing God by doubting? Would He turn away from me because I didn’t have unshakable faith every moment of my life? Would God punish me for asking questions?
But Scripture tells a different story. God invites our questions—because He knows that honest wrestling can lead to deeper faith. Jesus himself said, “For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20) What does it mean to have the faith of a mustard seed? A mustard seed is tiny, but it grows into something much larger. Even when our faith is small, God meets us there and carries us forward.
One of the most comforting stories in Scripture for me is Job’s. He was a righteous man who lost everything—his health, his family, his livelihood. He questioned God’s justice, yet he continued to trust. And in Job 38, God responds—not with condemnation, but with questions of His own: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? … Who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb?”
I love that God willingly answers Job’s questions. God doesn't ignore Job’s pain. Instead, He gently reminds him of His sovereignty and power. Sometimes, that’s exactly what we need—to be reminded that God is bigger than our own understanding.
David, too, wrestled with God in the Psalms. He asked raw, honest questions like in Psalm 13, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” If King David, a man after God’s own heart, could voice such doubts, surely, we can too.
What a miracle it is that we serve a God who welcomes our questions instead of punishing them. That’s one of the ways I know Christianity is true. In many religions, doubt is seen as betrayal. But the God of the Bible invites us into conversation—even when we’re unsure, even when we’re struggling. He knows the truth will stand. And He meets us in the trenches, walking with us as we wrestle with our faith, just like Jacob wrestled with God.
The Lord is a just, kind, righteous, loving Father. He welcomes our questions and doubt – they don’t scare Him; they don’t drive Him away. Instead, He uses them to draw us closer. He lovingly shows us the truth – and that is a gift.