A Word to the Wavering Ones

"But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord" (James 1:6-7).

It would be difficult to find anything that produces more discomfort in the religious life than a wavering faith. The image given to us by the Apostle James describes it exactly: "a wave of the sea... driven and tossed". Just as it is impossible for a traveller to reach a destination by moving forward one day and retracing their steps the next, it is equally impossible for the wavering soul to reach a place of settled peace while it continues to waver.

In our last chapter, we considered the shakings of God. It might be thought that our wavering is similar to his shaking, but they are very different. God’s shakings are caused by his love for our blessing; they always lead to rest and peace. Our waverings are caused by our lack of faith; they always lead to discomfort and turmoil.

A wavering Christian is someone who trusts in the love of God one day and doubts it the next, and is alternately happy or miserable as a result. They climb to the hilltop of joy at one time, only to descend into the valley of despair the next. They are driven back and forth by every "wind of doctrine," always striving but never attaining. They are a victim of every changing influence—whether it is their physical health, the people around them, or even the weather.

You would suppose that even the most inexperienced child of God would know that this sort of experience is wrong. Wavering in one's faith in such a way is deeply dishonouring to the Lord, as it questions his truth and faithfulness. Yet, many Christians are so blinded that they actually think this tendency to waver is a sign of humility. They treat every new attack of doubt as if it were a pious virtue.

A wavering Christian might say complacently, "Oh, but I know I am so unworthy that I'm sure it's right for me to doubt." They often imply that if their listener were truly humble, they would doubt as well. I once knew a devoted Christian whose religious life was a constant torment of doubt. After I urged him to have more faith, he said in all seriousness, "My dear friend, if I were ever so arrogant as to feel sure that God loved me, I would be certain I was on the direct road to hell."

He clearly thought that such assurance could only come from feeling he was "good enough" to deserve God’s love. He was right that thinking we are worthy of God’s love is arrogant.

However, the ground for our assurance does not come from our own goodness, but from the goodness of God. While we should never be satisfied with our own goodness, there can be no question—for anyone who believes the Bible—regarding the total sufficiency of his.

To see how absurd this position of doubt is, consider how it would work in human relationships.

Imagine a marriage, or the relationship between a child and a parent—both of which the Lord uses as symbols for our relationship with him. If a wife or husband had a "wavering experience" of confidence in their spouse—trusting one day and doubting the next—would that be seen as a sign of humility or a virtue to be cherished? Similarly, if children wavered in their confidence toward their parents the way Christians do with their heavenly Father, what word would be harsh enough for such unfilial conduct? In human relationships, such wavering might be excused if one person were actually untrustworthy. But with God, there is no such excuse. The wavering faith of his children may even lead outsiders to conclude that he isn't worthy of much confidence.

We would shrink in horror from causing people to think poorly of God’s character. But if we are honest, we must acknowledge that a wavering faith conveys exactly that impression. It is, in essence, disloyalty to a trustworthy God and should be viewed as a serious sin.

The truth is that our wavering comes from a subtle, often unconscious form of pride rather than humility. True humility accepts the love and gifts bestowed upon it with a meek and happy thankfulness. Pride, on the other hand, shrinks from accepting kindness and is afraid to believe in the selfless goodness of the giver. If we were truly humble, we would accept God’s love with thankful meekness. While acknowledging our own unworthiness, we would see it only as something that highlights his grace and goodness in choosing us.

A wavering faith is not only disloyal to God, but it is a source of great misery for us. It cannot advance our spiritual interests; it can only hinder them. The Apostle tells us that "we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end" (Hebrews 3:14). To be steadfast is the exact opposite of wavering. Expecting the results of steadfastness while wavering is as foolish as trying to reach a mountain peak by alternating short climbs with long, disastrous slides back down.

Yet many people expect exactly that. They make a "beginning of confidence" and, while the freshness lasts, they are full of joy. Then trials and temptations come, and doubts begin to intrude. Instead of treating these doubts as enemies to be resisted, they welcome them as friends.

Before long, they begin to waver in their faith and allegiance, and their peace is gone. When life is bright, their faith revives; when things go wrong, doubts win and they waver again.

I once spoke with an eminent clergyman about the possibility of a religious life of abiding peace.

He frankly told me he didn't think it was possible and that most Christian experiences were like his own. "When I want to write my sermons," he said, "I get to the mountain-top through prayer and effort. I put my foot on one promise and then another until I reach the summit and can begin.

It goes well for a while, but then an interruption comes—a problem with my children or a quarrel with a neighbour—and I tumble down. I can only get back by another wearisome climb. I might stay on the summit for a few days, or once in a great while, a few weeks. But as for 'abiding' there continually, I cannot believe it."

This describes the experience of many of God’s children who hunger for the peace Christ promised but only find it for moments at a time. They get a glimmer of faith, but then the old doubts return. "Look at your heart," they say; "see how cold and indifferent it is. How can you believe God loves a poor, unworthy creature like you?" It sounds so reasonable that they are plunged back into darkness.

The whole trouble comes from a lack of faith. In the spiritual life, it is always according to our faith. This is a spiritual law that cannot be ignored or avoided. It is inherent in the nature of things and is therefore unalterable. Equally, if it is to be according to our faith, it will also be to us according to our doubts.

The cause of our wavering is not our sins, but our doubts. Doubts create an impassable gap between our souls and the Lord, just as they do between us and our friends. No amount of earnestness can bridge that gap. "For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord" (James 1:7). This isn't because God is angry; it is because the nature of things makes it impossible for doubt and confidence to exist together. "And to whom did he swear that they would not enter his rest, but to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief" (Hebrews 3:18-19). It wasn't that God wouldn't let them in as a punishment; they simply could not enter. It was an impossibility. Faith is the only door into the Kingdom of Heaven, and there is no other. If we will not go in by that door, we cannot get in at all, for there is no other way.

God's salvation is not a purchase to be made, nor wages to be earned, nor a summit to be climbed, nor a task to be accomplished; but it is simply and only a gift to be accepted, and it can only be accepted by faith. Faith is a necessary element in the acceptance of any gift, whether earthly or heavenly. My friends may put their gifts upon my table, or even place them in my lap, but unless I believe in their friendliness and honesty of purpose enough to accept these gifts, they can never truly become mine.

It is therefore plain that the Bible is simply announcing the nature of things, as it always does, when it declares, "Be it done to you according to your faith" (Matthew 9:29). The sooner we settle down to this, the better. All our wavering comes from the fact that we do not believe in this law. We acknowledge, of course, that it is in the Bible, but we think it cannot really mean what it says. We think there must be some additions made to it, such as "according to our fervency it shall be unto us," or "according to our persistence," or "according to our worthiness."

If the whole truth were told, we are inclined to think that these additions of ours are, if anything, by far the most important part of the matter. As a consequence, our attention is mostly directed to getting these matters settled. We watch our own states of mind and feelings, and search into our own worthiness or unworthiness with so much diligence that we almost entirely overlook the one fundamental principle of faith, without which nothing can be done. Moreover, as our moods and feelings are the most variable things in the universe, and our sense of worthiness changes with those feelings, our experience cannot help but waver. The possibility of a steadfast faith recedes further into the background. In short, we make the faithfulness of God and the truth of his word depend upon the state of our feelings.

I am certain that if any of our friends treated us in this doubting fashion, we would be wounded and indignant beyond measure. No feeling of unworthiness on their part could excuse them in our eyes for such a wavering of their confidence in us. In fact, we would far rather our friends even sinned against us than doubted us. No form of sinfulness ever hindered the Lord Jesus while on earth from doing his mighty works. The only thing that hindered him was unbelief. In his own town, among his own neighbours and friends where he would have liked to perform miracles, we are told that "he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief" (Matthew 13:58). It was not that he would not, but simply that he could not. And he cannot in our case, any more than in theirs.

But I am afraid some of you may think I am making a mistake. You might think that, in spite of what God has said, the person whose faith wavers can still receive something from the Lord if they are only fervent and earnest enough. That would mean you do not believe God understands the laws of his kingdom as well as you do, and that it is safer to follow your own ideas rather than his word. Yet you must know that, up until now, your doubts have brought you nothing but darkness and misery. Recall the days, weeks, or even years of a halting, stumbling, uncomfortable religious life, and ask yourself honestly whether the cause of it all has not been your wavering faith.

If you believe one day that God loves you and is favourable to you, and the next day doubt his love and fear he is angry with you, does it not stand to reason that your experience must waver from joy to misery? Only a steadfast faith in his love and care could give you an unwavering experience.

The one question, therefore, for all whose faith wavers, is how to put an end to that wavering once and for all. Here, I am thankful to say, I know of a perfect remedy. The only thing you have to do is to GIVE IT UP. Your wavering is caused by your doubting, and by nothing else. Give up your doubting, and your wavering will stop. Keep on with your doubting, and your wavering will continue. The whole matter is as clear as daylight, and the choice is in your own hands.

Perhaps you think this is an extreme statement, for it has probably never entered your head that you could give up doubting altogether. But I assert that you can. You can simply refuse to doubt.

You can shut the door against every suggestion of doubt that comes and, by faith, declare exactly the opposite. Your doubt says, "God does not forgive my sins." Your faith must say, "He does forgive me; he says he does, and I choose to believe him. I am his forgiven child." You must assert this steadfastly until all your doubts vanish. You have no more right to say that you are of such a "doubting nature" that you cannot help doubting than to say you are of such a "thieving nature" that you cannot help stealing. One is as easily controlled as the other. You must give up your doubting just as you would give up thieving. You must treat the temptation to doubt exactly as a person struggling with alcohol must treat the temptation to drink; you must take a pledge against it.

The process I believe to be most effective is to lay our doubts—just as we lay our other sins— upon God's altar and make a total surrender of them. We must give up all liberty to doubt and must consecrate our power of believing to him, trusting him to keep us trusting. We must make our faith in his word as inevitable and necessary a thing as is our obedience to his will. We must be as loyal to our heavenly Friend as we are to our earthly friends. We must refuse to recognise the possibility of any questioning or doubting of his love or his faithfulness.

Of course, temptations to waver will come. It will sometimes seem impossible that the Lord can love such disagreeable, unworthy beings as we feel ourselves to be. But we must turn as deaf an ear to these insinuations against the love of God as we would to any gossip against our dearest friend. The fight to do this may sometimes be very severe and may even seem unendurable. But our unchanging declaration must continually be: "Though he slay me, I will hope in him" (Job 13:15). Our steadfast faith will unfailingly bring us a glorious victory.

It will often seem as if it would be a "righteous" thing—given our many shortcomings—to waver in our faith and question whether salvation is meant for us. But if we understand what the salvation of the Lord Jesus Christ is, we must recognise that all this is only temptation. We must persistently lift up the "shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one" (Ephesians 6:16).

The Spirit of God never, under any circumstance, suggests a doubt of the love of God. Wherever doubts come from, one thing is certain: they do not come from heaven. All doubts are from an evil source and must be treated as the suggestions of an enemy. We cannot, it is true, prevent the suggestions of doubt from making themselves heard in our hearts, any more than we can prevent our ears from hearing swearing in the streets. But just as we can refuse to approve of or join in with that language, so can we refuse to pay any attention to these suggestions of doubt. The cases are exactly similar. While we know it would be wrong to join in with swearing, we often have a lingering feeling that doubts might be "pious" and should be encouraged. I believe one is as displeasing to God as the other.

Again, I would repeat: the only way to treat the doubts that make you waver is to give them up.

An absolute surrender is the only remedy. Like the person struggling with drink, half measures are of no use. Total abstinence is the only hope.

The most practical way of doing this is to meet each doubt with a flat denial and to carry the war into the enemy's country by an emphatic assertion of faith. For instance, if the doubt arises as to whether God can love someone as sinful and unfaithful as you feel yourself to be, you must at once assert in your own heart—and if possible, aloud to someone else—that God does love you.

He says he does, and his word is worth a million times more trust than any of your feelings. If you cannot find anyone to whom to say this, then write it in a letter or say it aloud to yourself and to God. Be very definite about it.

If in anything you have had a "beginning of confidence," if you have ever laid hold of any promise of the Lord's, hold on steadfastly to that promise without wavering, let come what may.

There can be no middle ground. If it was true once, it is true still, for God is unchangeable. The only thing that can deprive you of it is your unbelief. While you believe, you have it. "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours" (Mark 11:24).

Let nothing shake your faith. Should even sin unhappily overtake you, you must not let it make you doubt. At once, upon discovering any sin, act on the truth that "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).

Confess your sin immediately and believe at once that God does forgive it, as he declares, and does again cleanse you. No sin, however grievous, can separate us from God for one moment after it has been treated in this fashion. To allow sin to cause your faith to waver is only to add a new sin to the one already committed. Return at once to God in the way the Bible teaches and let your faith hold steadfastly to his word. Believe it, not because you feel it or see it, but because he says it. Believe it actively and steadfastly, through dark and light, through ups and downs, through times of comfort and times of despair, and I can promise you that your wavering experience will be ended.

"Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labour is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58). To be "immovable" in one's religious life is the exact opposite of wavering. In the Forty-sixth Psalm, we can see what it is. The earth may give way and the mountains may be moved into the heart of the sea; our whole universe may seem to be in ruins; but while we trust in the Lord, we "shall not be moved" (Psalm 46:5).

The person who wavers in their faith is upset by the smallest trifles; the person who is steadfast in their faith can look on calmly even at the ruin of their universe. To be thus immovable is a blessing most ardently to be desired, and it may be ours if we will only hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast to the end.

"Faith is sweetest of worships to him who so loves His unbearable splendours in darkness to hide; And to trust in Thy word, dearest Lord, is true love, For those prayers are most granted which seem most denied.

And faith throws her arms around all Thou hast told her, And able to hold as much more, can but grieve; She could hold Thy grand self, Lord! if Thou wouldst reveal it, And love makes her long to have more to believe."