Interaction with the divine

My father has always been a man of faith. Prayer is a part of his daily life, and he takes an active role in church activities. Growing up in a Christian household, I saw how much his belief meant to him. I did not share the same certainty.

After graduation, I moved to Delhi to study journalism and later began working. Away from home, I had more room to decide what faith meant to me. I was not a regular churchgoer. I believed God could be found anywhere, and I did not feel the need to prove my belief to anyone.

Yet I often found myself praying when I was in trouble.

That made me question my own relationship with God. Why did I turn to Him most readily when I needed help? Was it faith, fear or simply the comfort of feeling that someone was listening? I did not have a clear answer, but I could not dismiss what prayer meant to me.

There is something comforting about sharing your deepest fears and secrets with someone you cannot see. Saying those things in prayer sometimes helped me understand what was troubling me. The problem might remain, but I felt a little less burdened by it.

“You just need to have faith,” people have told me. I understand the reassurance behind those words, though belief has never felt that straightforward to me. I have questioned God’s existence and wondered whether my prayers were reaching anyone. Those questions still return.

I used to think doubt meant an absence of faith. Now, I am less certain that the two are so easily separated. I can question and still pray. I can struggle to understand and still hope that I am being heard.

I also find myself thinking about how belief shapes the way we treat others. Kindness, honesty and a willingness to help matter deeply to me. When someone offers support without expecting anything in return, I see something worth believing in. I want my own actions to reflect those qualities, whether or not I have answers to my questions about God.

I have not had a dramatic encounter with the divine. There has been no single moment that settled everything for me. What I have experienced is quieter: the relief of speaking honestly in prayer, the effort to place some trust in God, and the recognition that I still have much to understand.

My father’s certainty may never come as naturally to me. For now, I am learning to pray without pretending that all my doubts have disappeared.