My grandma used to pray for a long life 'every day'.

She’d sit, close her eyes, mumble quiet words to God, and then say something like, “Asal kita ngomong yang baik, itu sudah doa” – as long as we speak good words, that is already a prayer.

Background Story

Growing up, I heard this so often that it became part of the background noise of my life.

“Pray to live long.”
“Pray to be healthy.”
“Pray for protection.”

For a young me, it sounded so beautiful and so simple. Just pray. Just speak good things. God will listen. But as I got older, I started to notice something missing in all of this. My grandma never really showed us what it meant to take care of her health in real life. She never talked about exercise. She never talked about eating better. She never said, “OK, once a year we all go for a medical check-up.” She didn’t model those things for us.

The funny thing is, she actually had the money to go for a yearly check-up, better treatment, nicer hospitals. She had options. She just didn’t use them.

It was always, “Pray. Think positive. Don’t speak negative things.”

And this is where my inner conflict with religion really started.

I don’t blame her as a person. She came from a different generation. She wasn’t highly educated. Health education, mental health, prevention, all of that was not really part of her world. For her, religion was the main education. The main “system” she trusted.

But when I look at it now, from where I am, I can see the gap very clearly:
her faith was strong, but her actions were weak.

She believed that as long as you keep praying, God will somehow arrange things for you. She believed if she stayed positive, good things would happen. She believed words and beliefs had power and she took it to the point where she almost ignored reality.

If you said, “Grandma, what about a check-up?” it would turn into, “Aduh, jangan ngomong kayak gitu, nanti jadi beneran perlu.” Don’t talk like that, later it becomes real needed.

It was like she was scared that if she admitted something could be wrong, she was betraying her faith.

And this is where religion, for me, can become very dangerous. Very quietly dangerous.

Because it doesn’t look like self-destruction. It looks holy. But actually, it can be a kind of slow, sweet self-abandonment.

How I See Faith as a Catholic

I believe in God.

I started to notice the same pattern in other areas of life too, not just health. People pray for a good partner, but never work on their own behaviour. People pray for peace, but never have the hard conversations they need to have.

And then when things go wrong, it becomes, “God is testing me,” or, “It’s God’s will,” even when there were so many chances to take responsibility earlier.

I’m not saying everything is in our control. Of course not. Life is wild. There are accidents, illnesses, unfair things, random events.

What I don’t believe anymore is this idea that we can just pray our way out of everything while staying exactly the same. As a religious person, that’s not how I see faith now.

There’s a quote that I really like:

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“God feeds the bird, but He doesn’t throw the food into the nest.”

The bird still has to fly, to search, to work for it.

Faith VS Delusional

Religion can easily turn into a soft, comfortable fantasy.

Faith, at its best, says: “I believe God is with me while I do my part.” Fantasy says: “Pray and God will fix it.” On the outside, both can sound religious. Both can say, “I trust God.” But inside, they are completely different.

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One memory really stays with me.
As a kid, I had once a serious toothache. Eww the pain was sharp and constant, like someone was drilling inside my jaw. I remember holding my cheek, crying, not knowing what to do with that kind of pain.

My grandma didn’t say, “Let’s go to the dentist.” She said, “Pray. Just pray and ask God to heal you.” So that’s what I did. I sat there, tears on my face, whispering prayers over and over. until I was so exhausted I fell asleep.

The next day, the pain was gone. From a medical pov, maybe my body calmed down, maybe it was just a temporary inflammation. But in my grandma’s story, it was clear: “You see? God healed you. Prayer works.”

Looking back now, I can see the pattern. Instead of teaching me, “Pray and let’s also see a dentist,” I learnt, “Just pray and don’t talk about the pain.” The attention went away from the problem, but the root cause stayed.

That’s what delusional faith often does. It doesn’t solve the problem. It just shifts your attention away from it so you can survive the moment. Short term, it can feel like a miracle. Long term, it can be very risky.
To me, it’s like painting “IN JESUS’ NAME” on a leaking boat and refusing to fix the holes.

Real faith, I think, doesn’t ask you to ignore the leak. Real faith says, “Yes, pray. And then pick up a tool and fix the damn hole.”

Now Me

My prayer now sounds more like this:

“If I’m asking for a long and healthy life, help me live in a way that respects this prayer.”

Not a perfect way.
Not a fitness-influencer way.
Just a more honest way.

I run when I can. I go for check-ups when something feels off. I measure my weight and fat percentage to keep myself on check. I donate blood, partly to help others, but also so I can keep track of my own health.

For me, these things are not “less spiritual”. They are part of my faith.

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I don’t want a faith that keeps me sitting still, just hoping my life will change. I want a faith that walks beside me while I wake up to reality.

Lastly, thank you, Grandma, for showing me what faith looks like. Please let me grow the faith your passed on in a healthier way, for a better version of me ya!

— C

How has your faith truly changed your life in a real, healthy way—
not just in a nice, religious, delusional way?

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