Shattered Faith

The bus rattled over potholes as storm clouds darkened the late afternoon sky. Daniel adjusted his tie, gripping his briefcase tighter. He had never taken public transport before. He usually drove his company car, but a sudden emergency had left his vehicle in the shop, and his assistant was on leave. Annoyed, he checked his watch. If he was late for his board meeting, he’d have to apologise to people who were usually the ones apologising to him.

At the next stop, a dishevelled man in a torn hoodie and faded jeans climbed aboard, his dark eyes scanning the passengers. Daniel felt a wave of unease. He had lived a good life—his faith was strong, his business thriving. God blessed those who trusted Him. That’s how it worked.

The man sat across from Daniel, rubbing his hands together. Something about his frantic energy set Daniel on edge. He turned his gaze toward the rain-spattered window, but his unease didn’t fade.

Then, the man muttered under his breath, “Not fair. It’s never fair.”

Daniel glanced back. The man was rocking slightly, eyes flicking from side to side. His fingers trembled as he clenched his fists.

Daniel hesitated. Maybe he should mind his own business. But his pastor had recently preached about seeing the brokenness in others. A perfect opportunity to be the hands and feet of Christ.

“Rough day?” Daniel asked, offering a rehearsed smile.

The man snorted. “A rough life.”

Daniel nodded sagely. “I hear you. But you know, faith in God can carry us through any storm.”

The man’s eyes snapped to his. For a second, Daniel saw something raw and unsettling—an anger not directed at him, but at something deeper, something that had been festering for years.

“Faith?” the man whispered. “You think faith saved me when I was kicked out of my home at sixteen? When my mum OD’d in front of me? When I begged on the streets and no one even looked at me?”

Daniel opened his mouth but found no words.

The man leaned closer. “You probably prayed for a parking spot this morning, didn’t you? Thought God was looking out for you when you found one. Meanwhile, I prayed for food and got a fist to the face instead.”

Daniel swallowed. This wasn’t how these conversations usually went.

The bus lurched, and a loud bang cracked through the air. The bus driver cursed—one of the tires had burst. The vehicle swerved, sending passengers jolting forward. Daniel’s briefcase flew from his hands. The bus skidded, slammed into a guardrail, and shuddered to a stop.

Panic erupted. A woman screamed. Someone shoved past Daniel, scrambling for the exit. The bus was tilted dangerously close to the edge of the overpass.

“Everybody off! NOW!” the driver shouted.

Daniel’s heart pounded as he climbed over the seats, trying to reach the door. But as he glanced back, he saw the man in the hoodie sprawled on the floor, his head bleeding where he had hit a pole.

For a split second, Daniel hesitated.

This man had mocked faith. He was angry, bitter. But then—Daniel saw the fear in his eyes. Not anger. Not resentment. Fear.

Daniel reached down and grabbed the man’s arm, hauling him up. “Come on!”

The man staggered, dazed, but Daniel didn’t let go. Together, they stumbled off the bus just as it groaned under its weight and tilted further. The second they hit the pavement, the guardrail snapped, and the bus crashed over the edge, slamming onto the road below in an explosion of metal and glass.

Silence.

Daniel gasped for air. His suit was ruined, and his briefcase was gone. But none of that mattered.

The man he had saved sat on the pavement, clutching his bleeding head. He looked at Daniel, his chest heaving.

“You… you didn’t have to do that,” he muttered.

Daniel managed a weak smile. “Maybe faith isn’t about making life easier. Maybe it’s about making sure no one has to face it alone.”

For the first time, the man’s face softened. The rain poured over them both, washing away the dust, the fear, the divide.

At that moment, Daniel realised that trusting God wasn’t about privilege. It was about presence. And that presence wasn’t just for the fortunate. It was for everyone.

Even the ones who didn’t believe it yet.

Shattered Faith
(shorter version)

The bus rattled over potholes as storm clouds darkened the late afternoon sky. Daniel adjusted his tie, gripping his briefcase tighter. He had never taken public transport before. He usually drove his company car, but a sudden emergency had left his vehicle in the shop, and his assistant was on leave. Annoyed, he checked his watch. If he was late for his board meeting, he’d have to apologise to people who were usually the ones apologising to him.

At the next stop, a dishevelled man in a torn hoodie and faded jeans climbed aboard, his dark eyes scanning the passengers. Daniel felt a wave of unease. He had lived a good life—his faith was strong, his business thriving. God blessed those who trusted Him. That’s how it worked.

The man sat across from Daniel, rubbing his hands together. Something about his frantic energy set Daniel on edge. He turned his gaze toward the rain-spattered window, but his unease didn’t fade.

Then, the man muttered under his breath, “Not fair. It’s never fair.”

Daniel glanced back. The man was rocking slightly, eyes flicking from side to side. His fingers trembled as he clenched his fists.

Daniel hesitated. Maybe he should mind his own business. But his pastor had recently preached about seeing the brokenness in others. A perfect opportunity to be the hands and feet of Christ.

“Rough day?” Daniel asked, offering a rehearsed smile.

The man snorted. “A rough life.”

Daniel nodded sagely. “I hear you. But you know, faith in God can carry us through any storm.”

The man’s eyes snapped to his. For a second, Daniel saw something raw and unsettling—an anger not directed at him, but at something deeper, something that had been festering for years.

Continue reading the full story here.