God’s Not Afraid nor Offended by Our Questions.

“God’s not afraid of our questions. He made our minds to wonder, and our hearts to seek.” — Rachel Held Evans, Searching for Sunday

There it is.

For so long, I thought asking questions about my faith was risky at best. After all, who am I to question God or the pastor?

The above quote by Rachel is so simple but profound. It helped me a great deal. In fact, I discovered my faith took on a new dimension of peace, confidence, and joy.

Rachel wasn’t trying to sound clever. She was offering oxygen to the ones gasping under the weight of performative faith. She handed us a flashlight and said, “Go ahead. It’s okay to look around.” And maybe most shocking of all — she trusted that God would be there in the shadows, with us, too.

Questioning is sacred work

I grew up with the impression that doubt was something to repent of. Like it was mold on your spiritual fruit. Ask too many questions and people start to squint at you like you’re contagious. But when I look at scripture with fresh eyes, the ones God seemed to draw nearest were often full of questions.

Abraham says, “How can I know?” Moses blurts out, “What if they don’t believe me?” Mary dares to ask, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”

And then there’s Job, who launches a huge complaint that spans over 30 chapters. If God were bothered by questions, He had plenty of chances to cut Job off.

But instead, God joins the conversation — not with condemnation, but with more questions of His own. It’s like God’s message was, “I’m not offended by your ache. I’m right here in it with you.”

Even Jesus, hanging on a Roman cross, cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).

The Savior of the world, the embodiment of divine love, shouted a question into the silence. If Jesus can question and still be beloved, maybe we can too.

Faith isn’t a formula

The kind of faith that Rachel talked about — the one that seeks, stumbles, and still shows up — that’s not weak. That’s not lazy. That’s honest. And it might just be the deepest kind.

There’s a great line in Ecclesiastes that says, “He has set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Eternity in our hearts…and mystery at the edges. We weren’t made to grasp it all — we were made to wonder.

But somewhere along the way, we started treating theology like a math test. Get it all right, or you’re out. Faith became less about seeking and more about defending. Less about being transformed and more about being correct.

Rachel flipped the script.

She reminded us that God is not fragile. He doesn’t need protecting from our curiosity. In fact, Proverbs calls it “the glory of God to conceal a matter, and the glory of kings to search it out” (Proverbs 25:2).

God expects us to dig deeper, not just memorize the answers.

The wilderness is holy, too

When your faith starts unraveling, it doesn’t feel poetic. It feels like panic. Like everything you held onto suddenly slipped through your fingers, and now your palms are empty — and trembling.

But maybe the unraveling is the point.

Maybe the wilderness isn’t a punishment — it’s a pathway. After all, Israel didn’t meet God in a palace. They met Him in the desert. Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (Luke 4:1), not because He’d sinned, but because transformation begins in the wild.

And on that dusty road to Emmaus, two heartbroken disciples walked alongside Jesus and didn’t even recognize Him. He let them vent. He let them question.

He didn’t interrupt or correct. He just walked with them, until they invited Him in. And when He broke the bread, their eyes were opened (Luke 24:30–31).

Not in the moment of theological precision, but in the intimacy of breaking.

You’re not by yourself in the asking

If you’re in that space where you don’t know what you believe anymore, you’re not broken. You’re not the exception. You’re just human. And you’re in very good company.

Brian McLaren once said, “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it’s an element of faith.”

Peter Enns reminds us, “God desires our trust, not our correct beliefs.”

And Barbara Brown Taylor confesses, “I have learned to prize holy ignorance more than certainty.”

None of these folks are trying to burn it all down. They’re just pointing out that faith with room to breathe is the kind that grows roots. Strong ones.

James puts it this way: “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault” (James 1:5). Read that again — without finding fault.

God’s not rolling His eyes when you ask. He’s leaning in.

The Gentle Rebuild

Some of us have been taught that the goal of faith is certainty. But what if the goal is trust?

Psalm 32:8 says, “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.”

That doesn’t sound like a God who barks orders from a distance. That sounds like a God who sticks around. Who teaches patiently. Who doesn’t bail when we ask for directions for the fourth time in the same prayer.

And when you’re not sure where to go next — when you feel the fog closing in — there’s this promise from Jeremiah that has held me in my darkest nights: “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13).

Not when you figure it all out.

Not when you clean yourself up.

Just…when you seek. That’s it.

Your questions aren’t a liability

So here’s the thing: your questions aren’t disqualifying you. They’re drawing you closer.

• Closer to a God who can’t be reduced to a checklist.

• Closer to the Spirit who’s not boxed in by doctrine.

• Closer to Jesus, who never once said, “Blessed are the certain.”

  
  

No — He said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:6). Hunger is not the absence of faith — it’s the beginning of it.

A final word for the weary

You don’t have to pretend anymore.You’re allowed to outgrow what once fit.You’re allowed to ask hard questions and still be held by grace.

Faith that can’t survive doubt isn’t faith — it’s fear in disguise. But the faith that can hold doubt? That’s the kind that just might set you free.

So go ahead. Ask. Wonder. Wrestle. Because God’s not afraid of your questions, nor is He offended.

He made your mind to wonder.He made your heart to seek.And He’s not hiding. You’re seeking. And that’s a good thing.

© Gary L Ellis