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What Happens When You Ask God Dangerous Questions?

Writer's picture: Micah SyswerdaMicah Syswerda

A setting sun casting its light on a mountain

What is Dangerous?

As I mentioned in my first blog post after a long but much-needed rest, I have come to see the importance of bringing our deep, dangerous questions before the Lord. But before diving into this post (and hopefully starting a series of similar articles), let me explain what I mean by “dangerous.” Merriam-Webster defines dangerous as something involving possible injury, pain, harm, or loss. This could include driving a car, going on a jungle safari, or attempting skydiving with a group of 70 men (a real story and perhaps a future reality). These activities are considered dangerous because they involve risk—the potential for injury, pain, harm, and in some cases, even death. Yet, in these situations, we often take precautions to reduce the danger. We wear seatbelts in cars to protect ourselves. We keep our arms inside the vehicle while observing the beauty of an African lion. We ensure we’re harnessed and tethered when skydiving with an expert. Life is full of danger, but would it truly be life if we stayed cooped up, avoiding risk entirely for fear of what might happen?

            In 2020, we all experienced a life centered around risk mitigation, and most of us despised it. While we could spend hours swapping stories about how we navigated COVID (not recommended for family gatherings), the consensus is clear: people were preoccupied with avoiding potential danger. We debated vaccines, masks, and distancing mandates, but the uniting theme was a desire for safety. We feared contracting a virus with no cure, struggling with mental illness in isolation, or facing the unknown effects of new vaccines. Our love for mitigating risk—even amid division—revealed something universal: we are deeply concerned with safety.

            When we don’t feel safe, we live in a state of chronic stress, which can have long-term health consequences if left unresolved. In light of the dangers posed by untreated mental health struggles, conversations about counseling, mental health resources, and open dialogue have steadily increased. Athletes and public figures have come forward to share their stories, reducing stigma and fostering community. These developments are good, and I hope they continue. However—and here is the heart of this post—when will we begin addressing our spiritual health with the same urgency?


We Are Addicted to Numbness

Let me explain. When everything in life is stable and stress is low, we thrive. But when questions arise that feel too big for the Bible to answer, trust wavers. When trust is shaken, faith becomes difficult. And when faith falters, hope can be lost amidst the storm. Losing hope is one of the most dangerous outcomes imaginable. From hopelessness comes isolation and despair. When the brokenness of our flesh, cultural pressures, and the enemy’s lies align just right, hopelessness can lead to death—whether through self-harm, substance abuse, or giving up entirely. So what do we do? We avoid the questions. We’re afraid that some questions might not have answers, so we bury them. Instead of facing them, we numb ourselves—desperately trying to forget, to distract, to play it safe.

            You might say, “Micah, I’m not numbing myself! I’ve never gotten drunk, taken pills, or sought comfort in harmful ways.” And maybe you haven’t. But let me ask you this: how long do you scroll on your phone at night to drown out unaddressed thoughts before you fall asleep? How many reps in the gym do you push through, hoping to replace loneliness with a fleeting sense of self-sufficiency? How high do you raise your hands during worship, and how loudly do you sing, trying to convince yourself that you believe what you’ve been told your whole life? We all numb ourselves in different ways, but the root is the same: the dangerous questions we’re too afraid to ask.

            When it comes to Christianity, losing hope means losing everything, because hope is the foundation for faith, trust, and love—the essence of what it means to be human. Avoiding dangerous questions may feel natural. After all, why risk shaking the fragile foundation of hope if you don’t have to? But there’s a problem with avoiding these questions: God didn’t give us a spirit of fear. If we’re unwilling to ask, it’s because deep down, we’re afraid. Afraid of pain, harm, and loss. Afraid of what might happen if the answers don’t align with what we’ve always believed. But here’s the truth: avoiding these questions doesn’t make us safer—it only prolongs our fears.


Pros and Cons of Beginning a Pursuit of Truth

 Let’s approach these questions like we would a skydiving trip, starting with a pros and cons list. The cons: You might find out that God isn’t real, that Christianity is false, or that your faith has been built on lies. You might realize that Christian morality held you back from pleasures you could have experienced. But the pros? You could find answers to your deepest questions. You could discover a life of contentment amidst pain and suffering. You could experience peace in the midst of storms. You could develop a deeper, more authentic relationship with God. You could share the gospel with renewed confidence, knowing it to be true, beautiful, and good.

            No matter who you are—Christian or non-Christian, gay or straight, male or female—we all fear danger. But we also love mitigating risk. We love seatbelts, harnesses, and guardrails. Yet by avoiding our dangerous questions, we create a false sense of security that isn’t truly safe. Lingering doubts lead to chronic stress, anxiety, and fear. When it comes to mental health, we champion counseling, community, and vulnerability. But when it comes to spiritual health, we encourage silence. We settle for checking a box on Sundays, raising our hands in worship while ignoring the screams of pain in our hearts.

            Church, brothers and sisters: we are not healthy. We are stressed, anxious, and afraid because we have lost our one true hope. Without hope, there is no faith. Without faith, there is no trust. Without trust, there is no love. And without love, what’s the point? Does your foundation feel unsteady? Does your chest ache with the weight of unanswered questions? Mine did. But just as athletes have sparked a mental health revolution, I want to call for a spiritual revolution—a renewal and revival of faith built on trust, not fear.


A Glimpse Into My Unfinished Journey

Despite my fear of the unknown, I chose to step out of my safe box of faith and ask the questions I was avoiding. My first was this: “God, if my same-sex attraction never fades, can I still praise you?” What followed was silence—painful, deafening silence. I screamed in anger, accused God, and hated Him. Out of my heart’s darkness, I nailed Him to the cross. My hands were covered in His blood, and I condemned myself. But in my despair, as I teetered on the edge of asking, “God, am I alone?” something miraculous happened. He spoke—not audibly, but deep within my soul. I saw glimpses of His faithfulness: the parting of the sea, the pillar of fire, walls tumbling down, and rushing wind. I saw Jesus—pulling Peter from the water, healing a severed ear, standing on the shore. And in the quiet between my sobs, I heard His gentle whisper: “Micah, you didn’t kill me. I gave myself for you. I am big enough for your doubts, fears, and sins. I will never let you go.”

            In that moment, I took His hand, and I found something I had never experienced before: trust restored, faith renewed, and hope overflowing. This is the God who invites us to ask dangerous questions, to bring our pain and doubts to Him, and to discover that He is big enough to handle it all. He is our living water, and He will never let us go.

            And the cool thing about this season in the wilderness is that He kept His promise. He never let me go. Trust me—if there were ever a reason for Him to do so, He would have. I hurled some pretty horrible accusations against Him. But the amazing thing is that by asking my “unanswerable question,” I was able to taste and see that God’s love is authentic. Through the grip of our interlocked hands, I now have a trust that has been restored with a firmness I have never known. From this trust came faith—a faith that assures me what Jesus said will truly come to pass. And faith, oh, how powerful it is! Faith allows us to gaze upon an ocean of hope, infinite in breadth and depth. It is the living water. He is that water. Jesus is hope. The Spirit produces faith, and God calls us to trust Him. By trusting Him, I can now pour out the very same love I have received from the infinite ocean of God’s heart. That ocean is now within me.


God is Our Safety System

My question was never dangerous in the eyes of God. He knew I had it. He knew I had struggled to ask it for years. He understood the ways I numbed myself—through pornography and promiscuity—just to avoid confronting it. But when I finally asked, I was baptized in love and grace like never before. He filled me anew and reminded me of hope. He is hope, and in His gentle kindness, He reminded me of Himself. He will keep me safe.

  • He is the seatbelt that secures me as I drive through a world that is uncertain and often frightening.

  • He is the harness and the instructor who comforts me amidst both the terrifying free fall and the smooth gliding of life.

  • He is the handrail that steadies me, allowing me to marvel at the beauty even when surrounded by evil and pain.

But this is just my conclusion. This is my story and ever-growing testimony. I can tell you how God’s love has produced trust, faith, and hope in me—how it allows me to live contentedly in a life that is often hard and difficult. But my prayer is this: that you would ask your questions so you could say this for yourself with confidence.


Praise Amidst Any Circumstance

This transformation and deepening of my faith came from just one question being answered—or rather, not answered in the way I expected. God didn’t sit me down and tell me, “Micah, you’ll be able to praise Me with your SSA in five years.” No, He didn’t do that. Instead, He answered me by showing me Himself. He hid me behind a rock and let me catch a glimpse of His glory. I still don’t fully understand how my SSA and my future will intertwine, but I know this: I could only ever give Jesus my praise. Not because He might eventually take away my SSA or bless me with a wife who will endure the struggle alongside me, but because He washed me clean from guilt. He holds me, even when I come to Him with dangerous questions. God is so, so good.

            If you’re reading this and you’ve never put your faith in Jesus, I commend you to do so. He will produce hope if you let Him. But if you’re not there yet, start by asking Him your dangerous questions. Ask Him: “If You are real, God, show me that You are loving.” Or, “God, if You are loving, show me that You love me.” Then wait—wait patiently and in silence. Start noticing what happens around you. I believe with every fiber of my being that God will reveal to you how much He loves you. That is my hope.

            Hope changes everything. It changed me. And if it’s true for me, could it be true for you too? Even if you’re not a Christian, I encourage you to pray. Pray that God would buckle you in as you navigate this journey of discovery and questions. Pray that He keeps you safe as you pursue truth, wherever that search may lead you. Because with the buckle on, our dangerous questions become just questions. If the God of the universe is real, He will never let us go—no matter how big our questions may be. After all, if He was willing to die for us, suffer for us, and wash the blood from our hands, then surely, He can handle our questions.


Tending the Holy Fire of Our Hearts | Personally and Corporately

So let’s do this together. Let’s ask our questions—to God and within community. Maybe you don’t have questions that keep you up at night, but someone you know might. A coworker, a neighbor, a spouse, a family member, a gas station worker, the person with the cool outfit, the guy sitting alone—someone around you has a question. Ask on their behalf, and when you get an answer, don’t hold it in. Share it.

            I pray that we tend the holy fire of our souls with a prayerful supplication with thanksgiving, godly community, and time spent with the God who is always with us. I pray for a spark. I pray for His rushing wind. Because when wind hits fire, it burns brighter. And Satan would hate nothing more than to see those he has tormented for decades grow bold, courageous, and ready to fight him. Let's go to war.


 

If you found this post helpful, I encourage you to share it with others—it would mean so much to me.

If we were to sit down, and you asked me, Micah, what is your dream? I would tell you: This—this is my dream. I dream of a day when my name is printed on the cover of a book filled with my most personal thoughts, encouraging many to feel free to ask their deeppest questions without fear or hindrance. My dream is that we learn to hope fiercely.


So, I ask three things of you:

1. Pray that those who need a reminder that they can wrestle with God discover this blog through social media.

2. Pray that I remain deeply rooted in Christ, abiding in Him alone.

3. If you feel led by the Spirit, consider financially supporting the behind-the-scenes aspects of this blog—such as website development, maintenance, and SEO. Your support would be deeply appreciated.


More than anything, thank you for taking the time to read this post. May God bless you as you bring your questions to Him. I pray we can foster a community in our homes, churches, and the world where we support one another as we tend the spiritual fire of our souls, hopefully expectant of what the Lord will do.



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