You’ve Got to Have Faith

In my search for the meaning of my life, and only my life. I have delved into the depths of knowledge most people don’t explore. This curiosity to understand, or a path to follow, a technique that leads me to a deeper understanding or belief, but most of the time leaves me empty and leads me nowhere.

I came upon places in my destination where there was nothing of substance but comforting words, “Son, you have to have faith.”  This unassuming quote, given to me time and time again, I believe, was meant only to talk down to me, as if you couldn’t possibly understand.

Throughout all this time, I have heard that quote, “You have to have faith.” I was looking into the religions, beliefs, and wisdom, and all I came up with was one thing. When you ask the hard questions, you get that quote. Behind the books and the overwhelming information, all the religious artifacts and stories passed down through the ages, every belief system starts with one man or woman who heard this story or saw a miracle performed, and it was documented and marketed as a work of God until

I read a story once, and I am going to try to recapture it from memory and write it for you.

A man and his wife live in a small village. They lived in a modest two-room house on the edge of town. The wife went to pray every morning. The husband chose to stay home, tend his livestock, and work around the house. The townspeople would question the wife every day, " Where is your husband where she would answer abruptly, He is taking care of the animals, tending the garden. This question upset her because she wanted to fit in with the local townspeople. Her husband's constant absence from worship dampened her chances of acceptance into the religious fold.

Every night, as the sleepy village fell asleep, the husband and wife would go to bed. The wife was a deep sleeper, and the husband would slip out of bed quietly, go to the other room, and start to pray. He would pray all night until he sneaked back to his bed before his wife woke. This went on for years.

One night, the husband and wife went to bed like they always did. But this night, the wife was unwell. The husband, like every night, slipped out of bed and went to the other room to pray. In the middle of his prayers, the wife woke up and opened the door into the main room to see a bright, iridescent light filling it. As she wipes her eyes to see more clearly, there he was, levitating in the middle of the room, bathed in this bright light.

The wife, startled, caught the husband's attention as he slowly descended back to the floor. With all her excitement, she said, " You are the holiest person in this village. I can’t wait to tell the people in the village. He said, "Please, wife, this is my time to commune with my god." Please say nothing to anyone. He went on, I am selfish, and I don’t want to share this time with anyone. She looked at him and said, "Let me think about it." The next morning, as nothing had happened, the wife went to her religious meeting. The wife was talking to one of the leaders of the place of worship. To tell them what she witnessed and that her husband was the holiest person in the whole village.

That night, the village went to sleep as always. The wife went to sleep like always. The husband went out to pray as always, but when he heard voices outside his windows and doors, he went to the bathroom and went back to bed.

The next morning, the wife went to her religious services, and as she walked in, everyone smirked and laughed. Finally, her friend said we were looking into your windows and doors last night, trying to see if your husband was praying, only to see him go to the bathroom and go back to bed. He is no holier than the animal he is taking care of when he should be praying with us.

She returned home after the services, totally embarrassed and hurt. She said to her husband, “Why would you do that to me, shame me in front of the whole town?” He stood there for a second and said, “I don’t pray to a god that has been forced on me. I commune with a god who helps me navigate life's challenges, answers my questions, and deepens my connection to it. My relationship with God is personal, and I focus on that internal bond, not external appearances."

Over the next few months, the husband would get up, go to the bathroom, and go to sleep until he was convinced that his wife had given up trying to catch him again. He kept up his communion with God as he worked in the garden or cared for the animals. But, on some night when everyone was asleep, you could see a divine light through the cracks in the windows and the doors. You've got to have faith.