Wrestling with faith: When being good isn’t good enough

By Juliana Gordon

I was literally a prize-winning Christian.

Our local Christian radio station had a booth at the Los Angeles County Fair back in the 80’s, and was sponsoring a Bible trivia contest. I answered an impressive amount of questions for a 10 year old, prepared by many years of attending Sunday School and reading Bible story books. 

I am not sure what I won -- maybe a Christian record album? -- but I was sure proud of myself. 

I was proud of myself in other ways, too. Our home was tucked away in a suburb of Los Angeles, in the San Fernando Valley. There was trouble to be found, but I didn’t go looking for it and it didn’t seem to make its way into our home or the parochial schools I attended. 

I felt secure in my loving family, not worried about the problems I would see in the after-school specials they showed on TV in the 80s. I loved pleasing my parents, teachers, and other adults with good grades and behavior. I had accepted Jesus into my heart while I was in preschool, and I believed there was nothing more I needed to do to grow my faith. 

As a kid, I stretched the truth to stay out of trouble, stole bites from my sister’s Easter candy, and was a shallow friend at times. But I didn’t think it was a big deal, because at least it wasn’t the “bad” sins my church spent a lot of time warning us against. 

As I moved through school, I racked up certificates at award ceremonies. I earned the highest score in my school for the PSAT, a college-prep readiness exam. My friends and I didn’t swear or drink. 

But I would indulge in gossip. I would judge without compassion. And I would definitely harbor bitterness, allowing unforgiveness to fester in me. 

I figured I was fine, though. I believed I was a good Chrisitan.

Attending college, drifting away from church 

In the 90s, I graduated from a well-respected, Christian high school in a suburb of Los Angeles. And I drifted away from church. 

I lived at home and commuted to the local state university for college. It was so different from my high school and church community. The school was known for its free-thinking, humanistic views -- being rather dismissive of the divine -- but it also had stellar academics and was close to home, so I enrolled.

I started college in the business program, but I later changed to English with an emphasis in creative writing.  There was an assumption by many of my classmates that no one believed in God, so I cringed when I heard the careless, hurtful words about God, Jesus, and religion. The campus felt lonely with no one on “my side.”

I quickly hid my beliefs and kept quiet with my classmates and professors. I wanted good grades and I wanted to be accepted. Without affirmation of my Christian beliefs, and without encouragement from other Christians, I found my faith wavering. 

I was in my early 20s, and I  wondered who I was and if my faith was really a part of me.  Classmates and professors were making arguments that assumed there wasn’t a God, and I simmered in my doubts. 

My growing anxiety over my beliefs and concerns about what I wanted to be when I finally grew up pushed me to reach out to my childhood friend Sarah, and to attend church again with her. 

Returning church and wrestling with doubts

It was the same church building I attended as a child, but it felt different. 

The college pastor welcomed everyone who wanted to learn more about the Christian faith, and he answered questions about the doubts I had. 

I connected with other believers who were also growing in their faith. It felt like Jesus reintroduced himself to me, guiding me as I sorted out what I had learned or assumed about Him growing up. 

I learned that my own goodness would never be good enough to save me. I memorized Ephesians 2:8-9, which says: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

My heart was filled with hope as God changed my life. He showed me that I could not depend on myself, that my own self-righteousness does not justify me. Before, I thought I was so much better than the “obvious” sinners, but my pettiness, my unkind words, and my selfishness made me a sinner, too. I also needed salvation I could not provide. 

Even when I would slip back into old patterns of gossiping or being self-centered, God showed me I could confess and be forgiven. God provided new friends to walk along with in this new journey. He gave me mentors who have shaped how I view the ministry I’m part of today. 

Over 20 years later, I am so thankful for my difficulty in college -- and attending such an unaccepting place -- which God used to grow my faith. 

Instead of trying to earn a spot in the non-existent Christian Hall of Fame, I am reminded to check my self-righteousness and remember that only God can save me.

It’s okay to doubt, it’s okay to wrestle with my faith -- and now, I address those questions sooner. I seek out wise counsel. I pray with trusted friends and I don’t allow doubts to fester. 

When I do have questions, God reminds me He is always with me, and that I can trust Him. 

I will never be good enough. But that’s OK, because God is. 

Juliana Gordon is a pastor’s wife and lives in Southern California. You can find her at www.julianagordon.com or on Instagram at @julianagordonwriter.