Why I Write for the Faithful and the Questioning

One of the questions I’ve occasionally been asked is whether my books are written for Christians or non-Christians.

My answer is always the same:

Both.

Because, while people often divide themselves into categories such as Believer, skeptic, doubter, seeker, faithful, questioning, or somewhere in between, I’ve discovered something surprising over the years.

Most people are searching for the same things.

Love.

Hope.

Peace.

Belonging.

Truth.

Purpose.

And reassurance that they’re not walking through life alone.

That realization has shaped nearly everything I write.

Because whether someone has walked with God for decades or is still trying to figure out whether they believe at all, they’re welcome in my stories.

And they’re welcome in my Books by Alicia world too.

One of the saddest misconceptions I encounter is the idea that faith and questions cannot coexist.

That somehow asking questions means someone is weak, rebellious, or spiritually defective.

I don’t believe that at all.

Many churches unintentionally treat doubt as something shameful.

But I’ve never seen Jesus respond that way.

When people came to Him confused, fearful, uncertain, hurting, or searching, He met them exactly where they were.

Not where they should’ve been. Not where other people expected them to be. Where they actually were.

And I think that’s important.

Because many sincere Believers wrestle with difficult questions at various points in life.

Questions do not automatically signal a lack of faith.

Sometimes they signal a desire to understand more deeply.

One of the most misunderstood people in Scripture may be Thomas.

For centuries, he’s been remembered primarily as “Doubting Thomas.”

But when I read his story, I see something different.

I see a man who wanted certainty before placing his trust in something extraordinary.

And when Thomas asked for proof, Jesus didn’t shame him.

He didn’t ridicule him. He didn’t push him away.

Instead, He met Thomas exactly where he was.

That example has always mattered to me.

Because I believe God is not threatened by honest questions.

My stories are written from a Christian worldview because I am a Christian.

That part is simple.

But I have never wanted my stories to become sermons disguised as novels.

One reason I love fiction so much is because stories create space.

People lower their defenses when they read fiction.

They connect emotionally. They identify with characters. They recognize pieces of themselves inside someone else’s journey.

That’s powerful.

My goal is not to pressure readers.

My goal is to invite them.

To show them characters wrestling with real life, real mistakes, real pain, real hope, and real faith.

And if something in that journey touches their hearts, then wonderful.

One reason some Christian fiction doesn’t always resonate with me is because the characters sometimes feel too polished.

But real people aren’t polished.

Christians struggle.

They fail. They question. They get angry. They grieve. They make mistakes. They wrestle with temptation. They experience disappointment.

Yet God loves them anyway.

That’s the kind of faith journey I want to portray.

Not perfect people.

Real people.

If there is one theme that appears repeatedly throughout my stories, it’s grace.

Because grace sits at the center of everything I believe.

The world often labels people according to their worst moments.

God doesn’t.

Again and again throughout Scripture, we see Him pursuing:

• the wounded,

• the ashamed,

• the misunderstood,

• the outcasts,

• the doubters, and

• the broken.

That truth has always deeply moved me.

Because every one of us has broken places.

And every one of us needs grace.

One reason I continue writing these stories is because so many people have been introduced to a distorted picture of God.

Some believe He’s angry. Others believe He’s distant. Some believe He’s waiting for them to fail. Others believe they’ve already failed too badly for Him to care.

I know what it’s like to believe those kinds of lies. And that’s one reason I care so deeply about portraying Him differently.

Not as an angry judge waiting to condemn. But as a loving Father waiting to welcome people home.

At the end of the day, this post isn’t really about categories.

It’s about people.

For readers who already believe, I hope my stories offer:

• encouragement,

• reassurance,

• hope,

• emotional honesty,

• entertainment, and

• the reminder that they’re not alone.

I want them to feel seen.

Understood.

Valued.

For readers who are still wrestling with faith, I hope my stories offer something equally important.

Safety.

A place where questions are welcome. A place where doubt is not mocked. A place where people can wrestle honestly without feeling rejected.

Because you don’t have to have everything figured out to belong here.

And if my stories help someone feel a little less alone in that journey, then they’ve accomplished exactly what I hoped they would.