More Doubtful than Devoted

Doubt, Despair, and Divine Mercy

A week before I joined the Church at the Easter Vigil, I wrote to Father Moleski, a priest who had inspired me during college nearly 40 years earlier. I wanted him to know that the seeds he had planted so long ago had finally begun to bloom, and to thank him for his compassion, acceptance, and humor. To my surprise, he wrote back and offered me this warning:

One piece of advice from St. John Henry Newman:

“In consolation, ever to be sober. In desolation, never to despair.”

Enjoy everything that is enjoyable in your conversion experience and in your reception into the life of the sacraments, but expect trials to follow, just as the crucifixion followed the Transfiguration of Jesus. Ups and downs in the spiritual life are normal. Take them as they come, and learn to work with the ebb and flow of our awareness of God’s presence and power.

At the time, his words didn’t resonate deeply. But since my confirmation and first communion, they have become much more meaningful and prophetic.

Over the past few months since the Easter Vigil, I’ve faced a string of experiences that have nearly led me to despair. I was diagnosed with shingles, a painful and debilitating disease. I injured my back, making it difficult to do anything at all. I got food poisoning. I was diagnosed with IBS. My application to work remotely was ignored, and an offer for a new office was rescinded without a sound explanation. Worst of all, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, on top of her ongoing dementia. All of this has left me feeling more doubtful than devoted.

My anxiety and depression have started to recur. I’ve prayed some raw prayers lately, including, “Are you serious, right now??” directed straight at God. I know He can handle my honesty, but sometimes it feels like He’s silent.

I’ve known from the beginning that this journey wouldn’t be easy, and that doubt is a natural part of a living faith. But until recently, I only understood the darkness intellectually. Now, the darkness feels much thicker, and far lonelier than I ever expected.

I had hoped that after my confirmation, I would deepen my faith. But right now, I’m barely holding on.

A few weeks ago, I attended Mass with my girlfriend at her church. During his homily, the priest handed out small business cards titled “Resisting Spiritual Discouragement.” As I read the card, I immediately remembered the advice from Father Moleski and those words from St. John Henry Newman: “In consolation, ever to be sober. In desolation, never to despair.” The priest explained each step on the card, and I realized this was providence.

The card offered simple, practical steps for moments of discouragement, like reminding myself that desolation doesn’t last forever, avoiding big decisions when I feel spiritually low, resisting temptations, trusting in God, and holding onto faith when the darkness starts closing in.

I placed the card in the door handle of my car as a daily reminder not to give up.

Consolation is a sense of closeness to God, peace, hope, or spiritual joy, even in hardship. It’s when I feel most devoted.

Desolation is feeling distant from God, weighed down by fear or discouragement. It’s when I feel most doubtful.

Instead of shaming myself or giving up, I’ve decided to focus on the basics, the smallest things I can do to keep living my faith. I do my best to pray daily, listen to the Catechism in a Year podcast, go to confession, and attend Mass. Although I don’t always feel like I’m making progress, these small commitments help keep me spiritually anchored so that the waves of doubt don’t drag me into despair.

Though I’m going through a dark time, I’m not giving up. I have my doubts and my discouragement, but I also have my faith, which gives me hope that this darkness will eventually pass.

If you’re going through your own season of darkness, know that you’re not alone. Hold on to even the smallest practices of faith, and remember that desolation doesn’t last forever.

I’d love to hear from anyone who has felt stuck between doubt and devotion. How have you kept going when it felt like the darkness was winning?