Doubting Thomas...From Me No Less!

Even though I feel as though I have a very strong and deep faith, I rarely share its impact on my life. But I had to share this tidbit...and for those of you who know me personally, you can now pick yourself up off the floor...

The readings at mass yesterday were about Jesus' rising, and one dealt with Thomas and his doubt.

The priest said this: "Everyone knows, Thomas gets a bad rap for doubting. But I don't believe that there's anyone here who has never doubted their faith, who has never questioned something about our faith. And how could you not? Because once you experience the dark, when you do see the light it will shine even brighter."

He went on to explain Thomas' words once he did see the light "My Lord, and My God" which is what we were taught to say during the consecration. The revelation each time, the light after the darkness that shines so much brighter and brings us home with the sigh, My Lord, and My God.

I have some friends experiencing some dark times right now, and I was there a few short years ago when my brother was battling cancer. So these thoughts yesterday spoke to me louder than perhaps they would have before. I know that the light is brighter for me now, now that my little brother is cured of the evil disease that coursed through his body. And even though we're all the same people, I'd like to think that, because I experienced that darkness, I see the light more clearly, and that I am able to see it shine brighter.

Not only because he is better, although that makes the light really, really bright; but also because of the light that shone during the darkness itself. The light of friends and relatives who were there for us at a very dark time; the light of strength that we didn't even know we possessed; and the light of self-reflection that the darkness insisted.

I remember my mom's dear friend, who has an incredibly deep faith, calling me back then. I was so sad talking to her, and I finally admitted that I was having trouble praying. I was so ashamed. I didn't know what to pray for, because the only thing I wanted was for my brother to get better. I couldn't, I wouldn't pray for strength, or for God's will be done, or anything like that. There was only one acceptable thing for me -- remission, and it felt so selfish, so I didn't pray. And she said to me "That's what we're here for, we'll pray for you." Again, the light in the darkness.

And for now I can sit at mass, and say "My Lord, and My God," and bask in that light. And for at least the time being I can be the person offering the light and the strength to the ones I love who are in a dark place, and hopefully help bring them home.