I have a confession to make.
During my formal training for the ministry, I went through a profound season where I genuinely doubted the very existence of God. I was actively preparing for a lifetime of Christian service, studying theology, and yet internally wrestling with the terrifying thought that the God I was preparing to serve might not even be there – navigating doubt was not on my agenda!
Questioning God’s existence felt like a bit of a taboo to say the least. However, I have since realised I was far from alone in that wilderness.
(This is the third instalment of The Devil’s Playbook. If you have not yet read the other posts , you can find part 1 here.)
Table of Contents
Why your doubt might just be a vital sign of spiritual health
Openly acknowledging doubt is actually a vital sign of spiritual health, provided we allow it to process itself into faith. It is way better than bottling it up, pasting on a fake smile, and presenting a false self to the world.
As my dad often preached, if there were no room for doubt, there would be no need for faith.
Faith and doubt are frequently two sides of the same coin. Doubt is not always a grand, intellectual crisis concerning God’s existence. Often, it is much quieter.
It is wondering if God will actually come through for you in a specific crisis. We find ourselves doubting his goodness, his faithfulness, or his active presence in our daily lives.
These moments of friction are frequently used by God to strengthen our resolve, build our character, and teach us some lessons about dependence.
Sometimes, it feels as though God is playing hide-and-seek simply to get us off our backsides and compel us to seek his face with genuine urgency.
When doubt becomes a weapon
There is a critical tipping point where doubt ceases to be a spiritual workout and becomes a weapon formed against us.
A 2023 study by Barna titled ‘Doubt and Faith’ revealed that exactly half of all adults with a Christian background experience a period of prolonged doubt.
The enemy uses this extended time in the wilderness not merely to provoke philosophical questions, but to systematically separate us from our spiritual foundations.
This modern iteration of doubt is rarely just an intellectual exercise. It is deeply relational and institutional.
The same Barna research highlights that for those who eventually distance themselves from their faith communities, the primary driver is the perceived hypocrisy of religious people, a factor cited by 42 percent of respondents.
When past institutional hurts are weaponised in our minds, the result is a quiet exit that isolates us from our communities and ultimately silences our prayer lives.
In the Devil’s playbook, the goal of doubt is never to make you a critical thinker. The goal is to make you a deserter.
Doubting God’s existence
Questioning whether God is actually real rarely begins with a dramatic spiritual crisis or a sudden theological u-turn. Instead, it manifests as a gradual erosion of our worldview, heavily influenced by the environments in which we operate.
Secularism
When our primary daily inputs, from business strategies to social media feeds, are entirely secular, the concept of a supernatural God can quickly begin to feel like a childish myth. This gravity of secular thinking pulls constantly at our perspective.
Suffering
This intellectual friction is compounded by the reality of suffering. Facing profound loss, injustice, or even the sudden collapse of a life’s work creates severe logical dissonance. When we encounter deep pain in our own lives, the natural human response is to ask how a good and powerful God could possibly allow it to happen.
Scientism
Add to this the modern overemphasis on scientism. This is the assumption that if something cannot be quantified in a spreadsheet or proven in a laboratory, it simply does not exist. Under this weight, the foundation of faith can easily begin to crack.
Spinning
Ultimately, this intellectual brand of doubt leaves us with a moral compass that appears fixed but is actually spinning freely. Without an eternal framework to anchor us, our decision-making becomes entirely bound to short-term consequences. This mindset is a fast track to personal hopelessness.

Doubting God’s character
The second play the enemy runs is far more intimate than intellectual scepticism. It is an attack on God’s character, a phenomenon we might call the Thomas complex.
The Thomas complex
We often label the biblical disciple as ‘Doubting Thomas’, but that is perhaps a bit unfair. Thomas was not a cynical, modern atheist, but a deeply wounded follower. He had invested three years of his life into following Jesus, only to watch his hope publicly die on a Roman cross.
When the other disciples excitedly claimed Jesus was alive, Thomas did not necessarily doubt the theological possibility of a resurrection. More likely, he was simply too heartbroken and exhausted to risk believing it had actually happened. His demand to see the physical nail marks was not a scientific inquiry, but a psychological defence mechanism against further devastating disappointment (John 20:25).
I know you see this too.
Consider the dedicated person who has poured years of prayer and integrity into a project, only to watch it collapse unexpectedly. Think of the individual who prayed earnestly for a family member’s healing, only to be met with a tragic outcome.
In these dark moments, the enemy rarely tries to convince us that God is a myth. Instead, he whispers that God is indifferent, distant, or perhaps simply not as good as we previously thought.
Disillusionment and neglected disciplines
This deeply relational doubt usually stems from a disillusionment with some unwritten internal script, as we all carry a mental narrative of how a faithful, blessed life ought to play out. It is a subtle contract we create. We tell ourselves that if we work hard and pray often, God will ensure our success and safety.
When God does not follow our script, when we face unexpected delay or crushing despondency, we are tempted to question his character. We can subtly begin to doubt his love and his power.
This drift is accelerated when we neglect our spiritual disciplines. When our prayer life slips and we stop immersing ourselves in scripture, we lose the familiar sound of God’s voice. It is exactly like losing touch with an old friend, where the longer you go without speaking, the easier it is to misinterpret their silence.
In that quiet void, the enemy’s whisper suddenly sounds much louder and far more authoritative. As a result, we stop praying for breakthroughs and start praying merely for survival.
The good news is that, like with a true friend, you can be away for ages and easily pick up where you left off!
Doubting your own identity
In the Devil’s Playbook, perhaps the most subtle play in the chapter on doubt is the attack on your identity. The enemy does not always need to convince you that God is unapproachable. He only needs to convince you that you are unqualified to approach Him.
The trap of self-focus
In many ways it is entirely healthy to doubt our own flesh and to have zero confidence in our human strength. But for the believer, the enemy distorts this healthy humility into a toxic lie about our standing in Christ.
Many of us end up circling a drain of self-doubt, constantly seeking reassurance of our own spiritual worth or seeking validation from others. We tell ourselves that we would love to experience more of God, but we simply do not cut it spiritually. We allow the shadow of our past mistakes to dictate our present reality, assuming that if we keep remembering our sins, God must be remembering them too.
When we focus obsessively on our own weakness rather than Christ’s strength, our prayers devolve into whimsical wishing. The devil effectively waters down our power by making us the centre of the conversation.
If your primary focus is on how flawed you are, you are fundamentally failing to focus on how good he is.
The antidote is revelation
The answer to this crippling self-doubt is not an injection of modern self-confidence or a better self-image, but revelation. In his letter to the Ephesians, the Apostle Paul prays for something highly specific for the early church.
He does not pray for their difficult circumstances to change.
Instead, he prays that,
the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you
Self-doubt becomes completely irrelevant when you realise your standing is based on His gracious invitation, not your flawless application. Paul also uses a string of superlatives to describe the incomparably great power available to those who believe.
It is the exact same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him far above every rule, authority, and dominion.
When you finally see Jesus for who He is, seated in ultimate authority, your self-doubt becomes an absurdity. You are no longer operating on your own fragile credentials, you are operating on his. After all, you are seated with him (Ephesians 2:6)!
Expecting a Return on Prayer
The writer of Hebrews tells us that anyone who comes to God must believe two fundamental things. The author states that
anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.
Sincere prayer always expects a result.
A farmer is not content with merely planting seeds, but waits to reap a harvest. Similarly, a marksman observes carefully to see whether his bullet hit the target, and a physician actively examines the patient to measure the effect of the medicine.
Yet, in our spiritual lives, doubt often conditions us to adopt a ‘fire and forget’ mentality. We pray out of obligation, walking away before the words have even left our lips. If we truly believed he was a rewarder, we would stay at the door, knocking persistently until it opened.
Help my unbelief
Nowhere is the messy, beautiful reality of navigating doubt captured more perfectly than in the Gospel of Mark. In chapter nine, we find a chaotic scene where a desperate father has brought his deeply afflicted son to Jesus’ disciples (Mark 9:14-29). The disciples have tried and failed entirely.
The boy is suffering, the religious leaders are arguing, and the father is watching his last shred of hope evaporate. When Jesus arrives, the exhausted father approaches Him. His opening plea is not a declaration of unwavering, triumphant faith, but a statement saturated in the trauma of repeated disappointment.
He looks at Jesus and pleads,
But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us
Jesus replies, throwing the caveat right back at him.
‘”If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes”
I am so glad the father does’nt try to muster up a false sense of spiritual bravado to impress the Rabbi. Instead leans into radical, vulnerable honesty. Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed,
I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!
Is this perhaps one of the most profound prayers recorded in scripture?
The father acknowledges the genuine belief in his heart, while simultaneously confessing the crushing weight of his doubt.
He admits that his faith is fractured, battered by the reality of his son’s suffering, and the recent failure of the disciples.
This story is a lifeline
Jesus does not scold the man for his theological struggle or demand that he go away, purify his thoughts, and return with a perfectly unblemished mindset.
Jesus accepts the fragile fragment of faith the man offers and steps into the gap to provide the rest. He turns and performs the miracle, healing the boy completely.
This narrative is a lifeline for any of us navigating a season of uncertainty, proving God is not intimidated by your “What ifs.” He is not repelled by faith that has been bruised by the realities of life, business, or institutional failure. He simply asks for honesty.
If you find doubt hovering in the background today or even facing you head on, be completely honest about it. Speak your “help my unbelief” out loud and do not let your questions silently harden into a wedge that separates you from your calling.
Let us get before God this week, ask him to enlighten the eyes of our hearts, and fully expect the power of the resurrection to move precisely within our messy, ordinary lives.
Next week, we look at the third “D” in the Devil’s Playbook: Despondency. We will explore the unique dangers of the “long wait” and discover practical ways to recover your spirit when the breakthrough seems delayed.


