When Faith Has a Sense of Humor

A lot of people hear the word faith and picture serious faces, bowed heads, and quiet rooms. And yeah, there’s a place for that. But for me, walking with God also looks like eye rolls, nervous laughter, and shaking my head at some of the ridiculous situations I’ve gotten myself into.

If I couldn’t laugh at myself and my past, I think I’d still be buried under shame. Humor doesn’t delete the pain—but it makes it lighter to carry.


Laughing So I Don’t Go Backwards

I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I’ve said the wrong thing, relapsed into old thinking, reacted out of emotion, overthought everything, and then beat myself up for it.

Old me would stay stuck in that shame and spiral.
New me, trying to walk in faith, can say:
“Yep… that was rough. But thank God I’m not who I used to be.”

That’s where humor helps:

  • When I trip over my own words or overthink a simple situation.
  • When life throws one more thing at me and all I can do is look up like, “Really?”
  • When I remember something from my past and instead of drowning in guilt, I can smile a little and be grateful I survived it.

I don’t think God gets mad at that. I think sometimes He lets us laugh because He knows where He’s taking us, even when we’re still stuck in the messy middle.


Humor in Recovery and Mental Health

In recovery and mental health, humor is one of my favorite tools. Not fake joking to hide pain, but the honest, “If I don’t laugh right now, I might cry” kind of humor.

I’ve been in meetings where somebody shares something real and then tags it with a little joke. The whole room laughs—not at them, but with them. Suddenly, the air feels lighter. People relax. You realize:

“I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’m not the only one who’s struggled like this.”

Humor doesn’t mean I’m not taking my healing seriously. It means:

  • I’m not letting shame be the loudest voice anymore.
  • I’m allowed to be human, awkward, and in progress.
  • I can look at my story and see more than just the wreckage—I can see growth.

Church, Joy, and Inside Jokes with God

Even in church, laughter has a place. Sometimes it’s a joke from the pastor that hits a little too close to home. Sometimes it’s a moment with my mom where we look at each other and try not to crack up. Sometimes it’s just me thinking, “If these people knew how far God dragged me to get me here…”

Joy is one of the ways God reminds me I’m still alive.

There have been times I didn’t know what to pray. Times I didn’t have big, fancy words. Times I didn’t feel very “spiritual” at all. And then, out of nowhere, something made me laugh for real. Not a fake social laugh—a real one.

In that moment, I realized:
My heart isn’t completely numb. There’s still life in there. There’s still hope.

Sometimes my whole prayer is simple:
“God, I don’t know what to say… but thank You that I can still laugh.”


Humor Isn’t Disrespectful—It’s a Release

I’m not laughing at trauma, grief, addiction, or mental health battles. Those are heavy, serious things. I respect that.

But I am learning to:

  • Laugh at how dramatic my thoughts can get sometimes.
  • Laugh at the weird, unexpected ways God answers prayers.
  • Laugh when I thought it was completely over—and then He opened a door anyway.

Humor is like a pressure valve. It lets just enough steam out so I don’t explode. It doesn’t solve everything, but it gives me a little space to breathe and say, “Okay… this is hard, but it’s not the end.”


If You’re in a Heavy Place Today

If you’re struggling right now, I’m not going to tell you to “just cheer up” or slap a cheesy Bible verse on your pain. That stuff can feel fake when you’re really hurting.

Here’s what I will say:

  • It’s okay if your faith includes tired jokes and eye rolls.
  • It’s okay if your prayer sounds like, “Really, God?” with a half-smile.
  • It’s okay to find one tiny thing today that makes you laugh, even if everything else still hurts.

Sometimes that little laugh is proof the darkness doesn’t own you anymore.

You can be broken and funny.
Tired and hopeful.
Hurting and still able to smile.

That doesn’t make you fake.
It makes you human.

And you’re not alone in that.

— Josh Bridges

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