I write about Stuff

Kristin Mockler Young has written the kind of book you want to hand to someone who whispers, “I’m struggling with my faith, but I don’t want to walk away.” The Other Side of Certainty is not a book of arguments or defenses. It’s a companion for the journey — especially for those who have lived inside rigid, black‑and‑white faith structures and are now discovering that life, Scripture, and God Himself are far more spacious than they were taught to believe.

Young writes with a tenderness that feels pastoral. She understands what it’s like to feel the tension between what you were told faith should look like and the messy, complicated reality of actually following Jesus in a world full of questions. Rather than shaming doubt or treating curiosity as a threat, she treats both as invitations — places where God is already present and already speaking.

One of the most healing aspects of the book is Young’s insistence that God is bigger than the boxes we build for Him. Bigger than our certainty. Bigger than our fear. Bigger than our past selves, our mistakes, and our unanswered questions. She gently guides readers away from a faith built on pressure, conformity, and fear of getting it wrong, and toward a faith marked by wonder, exploration, and freedom.

Young’s pastoral wisdom shines especially in how she reframes questions. Instead of seeing them as cracks in the foundation, she treats them as openings — places where grace can seep in. She reminds readers that throughout Scripture, God meets people in their wrestling: Jacob, Job, Thomas, the psalmists, the disciples. Faith has never been about having all the answers; it has always been about trusting the One who holds us even when we don’t.

The book also speaks beautifully to those who feel disoriented after leaving behind old beliefs or church cultures that no longer fit. Young doesn’t rush readers toward new conclusions. She simply creates space — space to breathe, space to listen, space to rediscover Jesus without the noise of legalism or the weight of certainty. Her writing feels like a gentle hand on your shoulder saying, “It’s okay to not know. God is here.”

What makes The Other Side of Certainty so pastorally rich is its emphasis on love over legalism. Young shows how letting go of rigid categories doesn’t mean losing faith; it often means finding a deeper, more honest one. A faith that can hold tension. A faith that can grow. A faith that can breathe.

For anyone who feels spiritually unsettled, confused, or afraid of what their questions might mean, this book offers hope. Not the kind of hope that promises easy answers, but the kind that promises God’s presence — steady, patient, and kind — on every step of the journey.

The Other Side of Certainty is a gentle invitation to rediscover Jesus on the far side of fear, beyond the borders of certainty, in the wide-open space of grace.