A Journey From Doubt to Discovery

My father passed away when I was 13. At the time, I was attending a Catholic school and carried with me the image of a loving God—one who cared for us and shielded us from harm. The sudden loss of my father shattered that image and forced me to confront my beliefs. How could a loving God allow such pain to befall me? Why did my father, a good man, have to die before his siblings, who (in my naive view) seemed far less virtuous? Was God truly looking after my grieving mother, left to shoulder the burden of raising two young children alone?

Amid this turmoil, someone—though I can’t recall who—gave me a copy of Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach. The book didn’t offer immediate answers; instead, it raised even more questions. Yet, it became a lifeline during the personal war I had declared against God.

Early in Illusions, a messiah character poses a profound question: “What would you do if God looked you in the eye and commanded you to go and be happy?” I’m sure I’ve butchered Richard Bach’s eloquence here, but that question struck a chord in my grieving, adolescent mind. It marked the beginning of my journey to reevaluate the theology I had absorbed at home and school. I delved into the Bible, questioned the role of religion in our lives, and eventually concluded that while God might exist, he didn’t seem to care about what we did—or whether Good triumphed over Evil. By the time I was 15, I had severed my relationship with God entirely.

What would you do if God looked you in the eye and commanded you to go and be happy?

For years, I lived my life with its usual ups and downs, navigating it without turning back to God. It wasn’t a bad life—just average, marked by neither grand achievements nor devastating failures. But then, in my 30s, something unexpected happened. During a seminar on self-realization, I participated in an exercise designed to overwhelm the mind with noise and repetitive questioning, forcing participants to respond instinctively, without overthinking. In that moment, as my mind surrendered, I found myself muttering, “I am eternal.”

Tears streamed down my face, and even now, as I recount that moment, I feel them welling up again. Where had that thought come from? I had made my peace with the belief that God didn’t care about me, and yet here I was, grappling with this unshakable concept of eternity that didn’t align with my previous conclusions.

That moment reignited a spark within me. I began to dig deeper, revisiting my studies with a more mature perspective and exploring new materials that seemed to find their way into my path. Over time, I came to understand something profound: God had been there all along, even when I thought I had severed our connection. He had carried me through those years, never withdrawing the unseen support of his angels.

I realized that God does care for our well-being, though he doesn’t interfere with the events of this material life. Life’s challenges are opportunities to shape our character. God has gifted us free will and respects it unconditionally, even as he hopes we will choose to create rather than destroy.

Making peace with God has been the greatest gift I’ve given myself. I wanted to tell this story in my first post, to set the tone of what I want to share with you that came to this site: there is something that unites all of us and cannot be expressed in words. But it has been words that accompany me in my discovery and I hope my words can accompany yours.