02: Doubting Doubts: A Tattoo & A Testimony
My freshly-inked arm (didn’t hurt much at all)!
Logan here.
My life is, in many ways, one of weakness. Physically, my legs are extremely tight, I cannot completely open or fully rotate my right hand, and my right arm, though not very strong for any of my life, has contracted and tightened over time, so that it spends most of the time sitting against my chest, with my elbow sticking out, in a pose similar to the chicken dance. Thankfully, I can do just about everything with my left hand: writing, typing, eating, texting, all the essentials of living and communicating. I still haven’t mastered dressing or taking a shower without some help, and I wish I could play the drums, but the point is, God is teaching me to constantly learn and adapt to my weaknesses and circumstances.
I grew up in a household with two strong, Christian parents who made a deliberate effort to make sure we were raised in church, knowing the basic components of the Gospel: who Jesus was and having plenty of opportunities to hear that He loves me, died for my sins, and was raised from the dead, so that we could be saved and live with Him eternally. For my three brothers and I, these truths were spoken to us from as early as I can remember. I am extremely grateful for my parents and their faith, because, in a sense, since we were exposed to that faith so early, I quickly accepted those basic truths as fact. One night after church, at 9 years old, I took a big step: asking Jesus into my life so that I could have the assurance of heaven. I went forward during the invitation at church soon after, met with my parents and church counselors to discuss next steps, and was baptized shortly thereafter. Little did that boy know how much more God was calling him to.
Fast-forward to my sophomore year of high school, when things became more complicated. I started to become super anxious, questioning the sincerity of my faith. As the questions rolled in, doubt and fear came and quickly made their beds in my brain.
Did I understand what I was doing that night? Was I just praying a prayer? Was I just looking to get out of hell? If I were truly saved, why haven’t I been reading my Bible or praying more? What about all the lust and dark thoughts in my head over the years, the selfishness, the nasty things I’ve said to get a laugh or fit in? Will I ever get through this?
Questions like these (and variations thereof) were pretty constant for several years. Doubt and shame served, so I thought, as clear evidence that I was a faker, an impostor. I started reading my Bible way more, taking note after note, I suppose trying to make up for lost time. I sought assurance from my parents and friends, dug into my memories for any glimmer of hope that I was pleasing God. I prayed over and over again to be forgiven and saved, just in case any previous efforts didn’t stick. There were sleepless nights, tearful altar calls, cries for help, and many moments of my parents trying to reassure what they saw in me and that I needed to give it a rest. I was a swinging pendulum, back and forth between hope and anxiety, confusion and peace, feeling either divinely loved or deservedly unsettled, feeling like God was annoyed or ticked off at me for “not believing hard enough.”
Though I knew that I needed to trust in Jesus’ perfection rather than my own, I didn’t really have a solid tool to remind myself of this truth, or share it with others, no “life verse” to look back on in times of struggle. Then, on a regular night my small group in college, I was scrolling Instagram, and came to a post referencing 2 Corinthians 12:9.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
That was it, you guys. I had discovered the reference point of hope and encouragement I could carry with me to combat moments when memories, fear, shame, and impostor syndrome left me feeling weak. Jesus is telling us directly that there is nothing beyond the reach of his grace. Not my nastiest thought, nor any lack of theological understanding, no distraction or misplaced priority surprises Him or makes Him draw back. Rather, it’s something, dear reader, that I’ve got, and that He loves to work on. The more I acknowledge and boast in the things that I’m not or that I can’t accomplish on my own, then I get out of the way. Space is created for Christ to roll up His sleeves and develop those things in my mind and heart. So, where does the sweet tat come in? Stay with me, I’ll get you there!
At some point in college, I sat with a tune called Doubting Doubts from a band I’d enjoyed for a long time, Citizens. You can listen to it here. That fear and uncertainty, expressed in the song as being “caught between belief and wanting out,” is the same net I’d been snagged in. Like me, the songwriter isn’t finding rest until he learns “to be content with all this grace [God has] given.” Once he reminds himself that grace is all he needs, and that in [his] weakness [God is] strong, (direct references to 2 Cor. 12:9) then the song builds to a celebration, and he shouts, “I’m doubting doubts, I just cannot help believing that I am loved no matter what!”
You guys, if I didn’t believe in a God who is very intentional and does nothing at random, then I’d definitely call my discovery of that song at that time creepy. From a spiritual standpoint, it encapsulated my journey to a T. So, what do you do when you’ve discovered the perfect piece of encouragement? Obviously, you get it tattooed. Ok, it wasn’t quite as quick a decision as that. I wanted to get some ink for a while, (that’s what cool guys call it: ink) but found myself stuck. It had to be something that was meaningful, and could point others to Jesus in conversation. So, my brother’s idea to get the stick figure guy from the accessible parking sign was out.
I landed on that simple phrase, doubting doubts. Not only is it far more space efficient than the Scripture itself, but I felt more people would be apt to ask if it wasn’t obvious in its meaning. Great! I knew what my tattoo would say, but where would it go? What’s a spot on my body that clearly represents weakness, that is constantly visible to myself and others? Where do people’s eyes tend to gravitate when they see me? I’ll go with “my right arm” for $1000, please, Alex. You got it. That tricky right arm that so often sticks out like a sore thumb, would become forever marked with the reminder that no weakness, spiritual or physical, can disqualify me from God’s strength and all-sufficient grace.
The photo above was taken right after I finished my appt with the tattoo guy, April 13th 2024. I had plans to go to a concert that night with friends. Full disclosure, I had known for a while beforehand that the opener would be none other than Citizens, (the band who wrote Doubting Doubts)! I was excited that my tattoo would be fresh and ready just in time for the show.
As if I didn’t already have enough reason to remember that day, God had another surprise in store for me. One great perk of being disabled? Great parking privileges AND special seating at events. My friends and I got to be right up front, right in the action! But wait, there’s more! You see that girl in the right corner of the photo below with the smile on her face like she just accomplished something devious? That’s my good friend Nikki, who decided she would do whatever it took to get the band’s attention so I could show them my new ink.
She got up to the barricade and yelled as the band members were coming offstage to let the headliner come on.
“My friend just got a tattoo of your lyrics! Come talk to him!”
Well, it worked. The hipster-looking dude next to me is Zach, lead singer and frontman of Citizens. We took this picture after I got to show him my arm and let him know how important his little song is to me. I could NOT have planned or predicted a moment like that, but God (and my crazy friends) made it a reality. Nikki, if you’re reading this, “thank you” doesn’t suffice. I’ll never forget that.
The point of my story is not to say that I have conquered my doubt, nor that I got a tattoo or even that I was able to meet somebody like Zach. The point of my story is that I’m weak. I’d be lying if I told you that I don’t still sometimes feel shame over my past, like I should be farther along in my faith. I’d be lying if I told you that I no longer wrestle with trying to do more to please God, or questioning the moment I truly started believing and following through with Jesus. Heck, I’d be lying if I told you that I’ve taken every opportunity to boldly share the story of my tattoo, that I don’t get nervous when someone asks me about it. Often, I’m focused on holding my arm it so it doesn’t draw attention or whack people when they get near me.
I am weak, but I’m learning to boast in that truth, because there is One who is mighty enough to enter into my weakness and bring about miraculous joy, peace and hope in its midst. My struggles may be totally different from yours, but I’m willing to bet, dear reader, that you can list at least a few areas, physical or spiritual, in which you feel weak, too. Good! I encourage you to consider that there is grace enough for every moment because You are loved no matter what. By Christ’s power at work in you, you can walk, as I am, in the process of doubting your doubts.