The Doubting Thomas

As a child growing up I have never been anxious of the future. I rationalized it as my sheer optimistic personality, while others insisted it's the comfortable life I got to live, supported by healthy parenting and a lot of luck. Today as a parent myself and seeing the raw end of the stick more often than I would have expected, I still fail to be anxious of the future. My personality has changed by light years but this one aspect seems to stay. 

So it wasn't that. 

Looking back, I remember how I saw the hand of 'God' in things that came to pass, if not every time, in brief moments. Deep down. Before sleep. I felt guided. When eyes opened, the scientific person in me woke too and I reasoned 'seeing the best of a situation' to be my programming and 'God' was brushed to the corners of my mind as a question to be answered through rigorous pursuit on free days.

I bet this is how many who are spiritually curious think. Those who are raised in traditional Catholic South Indian families while attending schools that raise their own little scientific people must have these conflicting feelings just the way I did. 

Not surprising actually. The Christians of SyroMalabar go way back and were baptised by Saint Thomas, the apostle. Yes, the same Thomas who wouldn't believe a resurrection unless he put his hands in those wounds of the Christ he saw murdered on the cross. The doubt which was the foundation of his faith must have been passed on too when he baptised. A hard fact to process for someone who plays around with DNA.

So it was that. 

God was a topic to be pursued on a free day with tons of data on the scientific, archaeological and mythological story telling.

Graduating in applied sciences and developing a passion for the scientific method didn't help.

Then I met my husband and I became a cynic overnight. His dump truck of a brain for information, scientific thought processing and zero tendency towards awakening made sure I was always playing the devil's advocate. But more than these, the visibly corrupt nature of the church and its power hungry dirty games increased my doubt in the traditional teachings and rituals. 

Eventually, I ended up hating the church and it's players. To this day, I still believe there's nothing divine left in it as an organisation. 

Though I can't say the same for the one who actually lets it play out. Who, you ask? The LORD that Thomas saw. 

YHWH.