Reading time: 8 minutes.

Hi Friend,

I’m really glad you’re here again. If you’re still reading, it probably means this journey is real for you. And maybe, like me, you’ve had moments of wondering if you’re doing it right or if you’re even on the right path at all.

I get it.

When everything feels uncertain, it’s natural to look for something—anything—to hold onto. Some kind of reassurance that you’re not completely lost. Maybe you’re asking, Am I making a mistake? Am I being deceived? Will I ever feel at peace again?

Those questions used to keep me up at night and absorb my thoughts all day. I really wanted someone to tell me it was all going to be okay. That if I kept going, I wouldn’t lose everything. But no one could do that for me.

Instead, I had to learn to find small assurances along the way.

One of the most comforting realizations for me was understanding that this process—the questions, the doubts, the unraveling—was not unique to me. It’s not a personal failing or a sign that I’ve gone astray.

In fact, what you’re experiencing is actually well-documented. People have studied it, written about it, and many have walked this path long before you or I.

But this hasn’t just happened to members of the LDS faith, and it isn’t just recently, which is why psychologists, theologians, and scholars have long mapped out models of faith development that describe what you and I are experiencing. This dates as far back as John’s description of Thomas’ doubts over Jesus’ resurrection. (Thomas gets a bad rap, BTW.)

Of those who have documented faith transitions, the most well-known is James Fowler’s Stages of Faith. His research shows that faith isn’t static—it evolves over time. We grow into it, out of it, and sometimes through it again in different ways.

At one point, faith feels simple, clear, and certain—built on authority, tradition, and a sense of belonging. But for many of us, that stage gives way to complexity. We start asking harder questions, recognizing contradictions, and seeking truth in new ways. That can feel unsettling, even lonely. But it’s not wrong. It’s part of a larger human experience.

A well-known former pastor and author, Brian McLaren outlined a similar model of faith as a journey that helps describe how people navigate doubt and grow their faith.

I like Brian’s model because, while similar to Fowler’s model, it’s simplified to four stages. They are:

1. Simplicity – People see faith in black-and-white terms, with clear right and wrong, us versus them. Authority figures provide answers, and questioning is discouraged. This stage is often associated with early religious instruction or fundamentalist belief systems. It may also be seen in the younger years of our lives.

2. Complexity – Faith evolves to embrace problem-solving and pragmatism. People start seeing that life and faith require strategies and techniques. They may still see faith as a system to help them succeed in life but begin to recognize nuance. They start thinking in terms of steps, and achievements in their spiritual lives.

3. Perplexity – Doubt starts to play a central role as people question previously held beliefs. They see contradictions in religious institutions and may feel disillusioned. Many move away from organized religion at this stage, seeing it as hypocritical or inadequate in addressing their struggles. Others press on, trying to reconcile their beliefs and new information.

4. Harmony – At this stage, instead of resisting doubt, people start to integrate doubt and mystery into their faith. This stage embraces love as the central principle of faith, allowing for a more open, inclusive, and holistic spirituality. People move beyond rigid dogma and toward a more compassionate, connected faith experience.

Brian McLaren’s model tries to show that faith development is a process that involves movement between stages rather than a linear progression. These stages aren’t better or higher than another; they are stages in how we process and embrace faith in real and deeper ways as we recognize that things are more complex than we previously thought.

This takes us back to that idea of the Hero’s Journey for many spiritual journeys begin with a “call to adventure” that disrupts everything we thought we knew. Often, we resist it. But once we step into the unknown, we meet guides, face trials, and emerge transformed.

Elder Jeffrey Holland echoes this sentiment of a journey when he said, “Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it.”

My point is that what you’re going through is not you being lost. It’s you on a journey. And while it may not feel like it, that’s actually a well-documented process of growth.

In fact, we could say that everyone is at some stage of this journey. They just haven’t accepted the call.

This is important because I think, like a toddler, we need assurances that it’s okay to step forward as we learn to walk. I used to think assurances had to come as big, undeniable moments—like an angel appearing or a voice telling me exactly what to do.

But that’s not how it’s worked for me on this path of faith exploration. Instead, I’ve found that assurance often comes in quiet, unexpected ways that mean that my faith is growing and changing in different ways than I expected.

Some of those assurances for me have included:

• The deep feeling of relief in realizing I’m allowed to ask questions (maybe not in gospel doctrine class).
• A moment of clarity when I read something that puts words to what I’ve been feeling.
• The kindness of a friend who doesn’t judge but simply listens.
• The realization that my sense of goodness, love, and truth still matter, even when everything else feels uncertain.
• A deeper feeling of the unconditional love of God while on the path. (I love this!)

I’ve started to see these moments as markers along the path—small but steady reminders that I am still moving forward, still growing, still held in something greater than myself.

If you’re looking for assurances, I can tell you this: they will not come all at once and they might not look the way you expect. But they will come. And when they do, they’ll remind you that you are not lost. You are on the journey to becoming something new.

One of the hardest but most freeing lessons I’ve learned is that I don’t need to have all the answers to keep going. I don’t need certainty to have faith. Faith, I’ve realized, includes trusting that the journey itself has meaning—even when I don’t know exactly where it’s leading.

I found these words form Rachel Held Evans reassuring:

“Faith isn’t about having everything figured out ahead of time; faith is about following the quiet voice of God without having everything figured out ahead of time.” ^[1]

So, if you’re feeling unsteady, if you’re waiting for some kind of assurance, I hope you’ll start to notice the small moments, and know you are on a common path with many other travelers. Yet, it’s distinctly your own.

And know, as former General Young Women’s President Susan Tanner said, “He is aware of you, and He loves you—right now, just as you are.” ^[2]

That means wherever you are.

Enjoy the unexpected insight. Embrace the knowledge that this just might be part of the plan. Those things count.

And so do you.

With Warmth,

Your Friend.

P.S.

I have only one recommendation today, the book Faith After Doubt: Why Your Beliefs Stopped Working and What to Do About It, by Brian McLaren. In it, he discusses doubt as a normal and necessary part of spiritual growth, offering a framework that moves from simplicity to complexity, then to harmony.

Here’s a short story to go with it. I saw this book on the new books shelf at the public library when I was first starting to question (or when I began my faith journey.,. I thought that maybe it would be helpful in my quest, so I borrowed it, but I couldn’t bring myself to read it (Remember turning down that first call to the hero’s journey?)

Essentially, I couldn’t accept that by reading it, I was acknowledging that I had any doubts. I was a bit embarrassed that I even borrowed it, so it sat in the middle of my pile of library books until I returned it.

About a year or so later when I could no longer deny my journey, I remembered the book and I bought a copy. I’m really glad I did because Brian’s thoughtful approach shed a lot of light on my journey. I have read it several times since then.

Of course, anything that I recommend to you is just that, a recommendation. You don’t need to read any of my suggestions.

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[1] Rachel Held Evans, A Year of Biblical Womanhood

[2] “Did I Tell You…?” Susan Tanner, General Conference, April 2003