Last weekend, we finished the third season of Britbox’s “Blue Lights.” In the finale, a sub-theme was faith: believing in what’s possible. It really boiled down to the choices available. In the show, the line was “Faith or shite.” I liked it—wanted to remember it—and so I took a photo. It resonated because when others have asked how I’ve coped since the sky began falling a few years ago, how and why I still have “faith,” I’ve sometimes responded with, “Where else can I go?”
But honestly, my faith is teeny.
Faded.
Inferior.
It’s like when you “rub” a pencil over a notepad to reveal indentations from an underlying page, the impressions left by the pencil’s pressure, showing the faint, previous message.
Barely visible. It’s like that.
And I’m not even mentioning the other tolls—like the Christian Nationalism I refuse to associate with, the world on fire, countless atrocities against humanity, powerful men—terrible, ugly butterflies who flit above the law… the reasons to lose faith keep piling up.
My more personal faith has taken quite a hit over the past few years. Those close to us know the list. I’ve quietly started calling myself Jobina.
It’s the movie title “One Battle After Another,” but in our case, the battles aren’t alternating: they’re happening at the same time. Chicken Little was proved right. Along with the sky, shoes have been dropping all over the place. I’ve got the sole and soul dents to prove it.
I know I’m not alone. R.E.M. sang “Everybody Hurts.” As I mentioned, the world is in flames.
On Monday, while riding, I reached down for my water bottle and saw the cage was empty. Ugh. When I hit a bump, did it eject or fall off without me noticing? Then I remembered a few miles back that I had placed it on the bridge’s wooden rail after filling it at the spigot.
It was a hot day, and I still had dusty and steep mountain bike ascents ahead, but I didn’t want to turn back to get my water bottle. So, I headed to the trailhead, thinking I could manage without hydrating. It wasn’t that hot. Maybe I’d do the same route tomorrow, and who knows, maybe the bottle would still be there 24 hours later. Not likely, but it could happen.
The next day, life got in the way, so I had to miss my ride.
The following day—yesterday—as I was thinking about which route to take, I remembered my BPA-free $15 water bottle and wondered if I should swing by the bridge. It probably wasn’t still there, right?
I decided to go that way even though I didn’t truly believe it was possible.
As I got closer, my confidence was all but gone, and I was girding my loins for the $15 hit.
Making a sharp, blind right turn onto the bridge, I saw the bottle exactly where I had left it at the end of the railing. It was two days later, and I was shocked. It seemed untouched, with the spigot water still filled to the brim.
The bottle is labeled “Simply Pure,” but my faith certainly isn’t. Far from it. Because of that, I’ve felt shame over my balance of faith and shite—that my faith had dwindled so much into outright pessimism that it was worthless. I was a faith failure.
And then an empathetic lightbulb flickered—a vista point—over my heart when I realized:
The fact that I still peddled myself to the bridge and spigot told me something new, something everything:
I didn’t have to fully believe.
My faith didn’t have to be perfect or pure.
I rode a mustard seed.
Mine was enough faith.
It was sufficient.
I still got where I needed to go.
And found my water.
When I’m in areas known for mountain lions, I switch from my headset to speakerphone and blast music to give a warning (mountain lions tend to be more aggressive with surprise encounters). On my speakerphone, I heard Nick Cave sing, “…they say there is a cougar that roams these parts…”
So, I furtively looked around.
A bit later, nearing a high vista point, another song, in Nick Cave’s deep voice: “Sometimes a little bit of faith can go a long way.”
It can go all the way to a bridge, a spigot, and a vista point.
“Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”—(Mark 9:24) an honest, desperate man talking to Jesus, contending with faith vs shite
