My skepticism was triggered immediately; it felt like an uncontrollable reflex. That was my reaction when reading this testimony from Jeremy and Adrienne Penner’s October newsletter: “My health was slowly deteriorating, and so I went to the hospital. The doctor found a large tumor in my abdomen and told me they would need to operate.… I didn't know a lot about Jesus yet, but I began to pray that he would heal my illness.… When I went back to the doctor for my scheduled operation, there was absolutely no sign of the tumor!”

The person goes on to recount another miraculous healing through prayer for a co-worker with an injury. My instant thought was, is there actually a rational explanation for this?

I’m unsure of the source of my knee-jerk skepticism. Personally, I have experienced God’s miraculous intervention at least twice—that I know of. Once, as my car was sliding on icy roads toward the ditch, my knee-jerk reaction was to cry aloud, “Jesus, help me!” The vehicle stopped immediately—as if running into an invisible force. The second intervention I can recall is the unlikely (impossible?) conception and safe delivery of our youngest child, a son—a child who was promised by a message from God.

Now, why would I question the stories of others but not my own? I don’t. Yes, there could be rational explanations for the miracles I experienced. Perhaps my car stopped so suddenly because it hit the gravel shoulder (unlikely, given the speed I was going, but possible). Perhaps the medical professionals were wrong about their diagnosis (although that wouldn’t explain the voice of God—but that could have been wishful thinking). Yet, my faith persists in the face of my doubts.

This is because I am convinced that faith cannot exist without doubt—doubt, at least, in some things. I doubt my ability to truly see the hand of God at work, but not God’s ability to intervene. With the father in Mark 9:24, I proclaim, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

As a questioner, I find myself in good company in the Advent story. Zechariah asked, “How can I be sure this will happen?” (Luke 1:18) when faced with a message of his own promised son to come. Mary, similarly, asked, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin” (Luke 1:34) when told she would conceive the Messiah.

Despite their earlier questions, both pour forth with praise as they witness to the greatness of the One in whom they put their trust (Luke 1:46–35; 68–79).

As you read and reflect on this issue, we hope you have opportunity to be helped in your unbelief as you are pointed to the One we celebrate this Advent and Christmas season—and beyond. May you confess in faith and in doubt, “because of God’s tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace” (Luke 1:78–79).