I am not normally one of those people who struggle with waking up in the morning. In fact, I typically open my eyes, stretch, and I am ready to carry on with my life like I was not just lying dormant for an extended period of time. I know, I am the worst. I will even greet others cheerfully unless they are driving slowly on the back roads that lead to my job; then they get a horn honk accompanied by a few words my grandma would not be proud of. Sorry grandma, but slow drivers ARE the worst kind of people.
Of course, there are the days where waking up and getting out of bed feels like the most egregious chore on the planet. The days where my skin feels like a weighted blanket and putting a smile on my face is more fake than the news I find on my social media feed. For the love of all things holy, Babylon Bee and The Onion are satirical websites!
I am talking about the days where, no matter how much you pray for positivity or any ounce of hope, there appears to be none. From COVID-19 scaring people into purging stores for Purell to politics; along with people close to you dealing with family emergencies or even death. Life can be pretty terrible sometimes.
Years ago, when I decided to leave the Christian faith, and religion altogether, I was in a season of hopelessness. I did not feel like I had any answers to the problems in my life, nor did there seem to be any end to the problems elsewhere. The idea of having any faith at all seemed stupid. People telling me to “trust God,” or to “just have faith,” seemed like they were giving me bullshit band-aids that did not even cover the wound. Like, “here you go sir, here is an abnormally small band-aid for your machete wound. I know you do not have any feeling in your fingers…because your hand is missing, but I think this Daffy-duck band-aid will do the trick.”
It never did.
I am in one of those seasons again. Even though I am a practicing Christian, there are days where all I can think is, “Damn, this sucks.” I have learned to graciously accept the kind words/ prayers offered by others as well as any positive vibes people try to religiously throw my way, but going full Abe Lincoln here, if I am being honest, it does not seem to be working.
And that is okay.
It is okay to lack hope. It is okay to be a person of faith, with no faith. When the prayers do not seem to mean anything and the positive vibes are so cliché, they make you sick, take a deep breath, there is nothing wrong with you.
Ask the weeping profit Jeremiah or the disciples after Jesus’ death. What about pretty much the entire story of the Israelites? Too often, we champion the stories of people who exemplified hopefulness and demonize people who do not have hope or lack faith.
Churches everywhere scold Peter for denying Jesus three times, but dammit Peter I feel you!
When thinking about this story of Peter (Lk. 22:54-62), please consider that faith, hope, and love, while unique/distinct, are interwoven and inseparable much like the concept of the Holy Trinity. So, when we are feeling hopeless, it is almost like we have lost our faith, and even like love is missing as well.
But what if we have these stories to let us know that it is okay to be without faith, to wake up feeling hopeless, and like there is no love left in the world. In fact, what if the Bible is good news because it acknowledges that we are all going to be like Peter some days, and we are going to be Jeremiah and have to deliver terrible news, or we are going to be like the Israelites wandering around, wondering if we will ever find what the hell we are looking for.
What if the story of Jesus exists to let us know that even though faith, hope, and love appear to be absent in our lives, they will always remain in life (1 Cor. 13:13). What if this Jesus character, gave us permission to “go and do likewise,” (Lk. 10:37), even when nothing is going right, or we have no faith, and our hope is lacking because faith, hope, and love will all still exist, even when we do not feel like we have them, so everything will be okay.
Knowing that makes it a little easier to get out of bed in the morning.