Many people in the world assume Christians simply inherit their faith. They imagine that people become Christians because someone told them they were when they were children, and that Christianity is really just a collection of comforting ideas we continue believing because they make us feel better.
Sometimes that picture of Christianity includes phrases such as, “God helps those who help themselves,” or, “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” as though Christians simply collect reassuring sayings, call them Scripture, and never stop to ask whether they are actually true.
That may be what some people think faith looks like, but that is not what we are doing here. You would not be here if you were not interested in truth. You would not be opening God’s Word, studying it, asking questions, and wanting to understand what He has actually revealed if Christianity were simply a fairy tale you had decided to preserve.
Our faith is not afraid of truth. It is rooted in truth. And yet, even knowing that, I wonder whether we sometimes fail to lean into our intellect in a way that truly honors God.
A few years ago, I started paying closer attention to the things I believed. I became much more conscientious about reading often-quoted passages in their actual context instead of assuming I understood them simply because I had heard them all my life.
I also began noticing that some things I had thought of as Christian “beliefs” were really restrictions or expectations that well-meaning Christians had elevated to the level of doctrine, even though Scripture itself did not. That distinction mattered to me.
If I am going to say, “The Bible teaches this,” I want to be sure the Bible actually teaches it. And if something is wisdom, tradition, preference, or a particular interpretation, I want to be honest enough to call it that too.
The more carefully I began looking, the more convinced I became that serious faith does not require us to turn off our minds. Quite the opposite. God gave us minds, and learning to use them under the authority of His Word is part of growing up in our faith.
That is why Ephesians 4:14–15 is so important to me. Paul writes that believers are not to remain like children, “tossed by the waves and blown around by every wind of teaching.” Instead, we are to grow into Christ, learning to speak the truth in love.
That picture feels especially vivid now. We live in a world full of headlines, clips, sound bites, algorithms, outrage, fear, certainty, and very persuasive people saying completely contradictory things. There is no shortage of voices telling us what to think, which raises an important question: How do we grow into women who know what is true?
Part of the answer is learning the difference between childlike faith and childish thinking. Childlike faith says, “Father, I trust You.” Childish thinking says, “I do not need to examine what I hear.”
Scripture never asks us to stop thinking. It calls us to bring our thinking under God’s authority. Romans 12:2 tells us that transformation comes through the renewing of our minds, and 2 Corinthians 10:5 tells us to take thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ. In other words, what we think matters because ideas eventually show up in how we live. They shape our fears, our relationships, our decisions, our worship, and our obedience.
That means discernment is not reserved for pastors, theologians, or naturally analytical people. It is part of Christian maturity, and I hope that feels encouraging rather than intimidating. You do not have to know everything, become a scholar, or be afraid of asking questions. You simply keep coming back to the Word with a willing heart and a teachable mind. That is where discernment begins.
Of course, discernment can go wrong too. It can become suspiciousness or arrogance, and we can become very good at examining everyone else’s beliefs while never considering the possibility that we may need correction ourselves.
Biblical discernment has a different posture. It sounds more like, “Lord, show me what is true,” and sometimes, “Lord, show me where I am wrong.”
I like being right. I especially like discovering that Scripture agrees with something I already believe. It is considerably less comfortable when God’s Word exposes an opinion I have held too tightly. But if Scripture is truly our authority, then it must be allowed to correct us as well as comfort us, and that correction is not something to fear. It is one of the ways God lovingly shapes us.
Over time, we begin to ask better questions:
What does Scripture actually say?
Am I reading this passage in context?
Have I confused something familiar with something biblical?
Am I treating a preference as doctrine?
Am I willing to let God’s Word change my mind?
Those are not questions of unbelief. They are questions of discipleship.
First Peter 3:15 tells believers to be ready to give a reason for the hope within us, and then tells us to do it with gentleness and respect. I love that combination because truth and humility belong together.
I am not responsible for forcing someone else to believe what I believe. I am responsible to know why I believe it, to handle Scripture faithfully, to remain teachable, and to speak with grace.
Faith is not the opposite of thinking. It is learning to think under God’s authority. And that is not a reprimand to know more; it is an invitation to keep going deeper.
So keep opening your Bible, asking questions, learning context, listening to good teachers, and allowing Scripture to strengthen what is true and correct what is not. The goal is not to become the woman who always has the right answer.
The goal is to become the woman who keeps returning to the One who does.