Before you read this, give yourself five uninterrupted minutes. No distractions. No urgency. No need to decide whether every sentence is “right” or “wrong.” I just want you to read this with curiosity. Not about Christianity. About yourself. Think back to the last objection to your faith that really got under your skin. When you finally found an answer, whether it was from a book, a YouTube video, Tim, me, or your favorite apologist, how long did the relief actually last? A day? A week? Maybe a few months? Then another objection showed up, and somehow you found yourself right back in the same place. If that’s familiar, consider a strange possibility. What if the answer actually worked perfectly, and the weight came back anyway? What if the weight was never really about the answer? Don’t answer that. Just notice what happens in you as you keep reading. Have you ever held Christianity to a standard of proof you would never dream of applying to anything else you believe? Your memories. Your senses. The love of your family. Your closest friendships. And then called that asymmetrical standard “being intellectually honest”? Or maybe you’ve even felt that lowering that standard, even slightly, would somehow make you dishonest. Have you ever felt like a hypocrite for praying, worshipping, or calling yourself a Christian while one unanswered question sat quietly in the back of your mind? As though sincerity required certainty. Have you ever felt like you had to remain outside Christianity in order to judge it fairly? Like actually living the Christian life, praying, serving, worshipping, trusting, would somehow contaminate the investigation? So you stayed outside the story while trying to decide whether it was true. Have you ever noticed that some questions don’t actually feel like questions? They feel like threats. Like the floor beneath you just shifted. Like something inside you is saying, “Figure this out. Right now.” Now notice something. None of those experiences are actually about whether Christianity is true.