My grandfather who was a lawyer once said, “Let us observe truth, but only when truth is made manifest unto us.”
When Jesus called me I heeded Him, for His command was more potent than my will; yet I kept my counsel.
When He spoke and the others were swayed like branches in the wind, I listened immovable. Yet I loved Him.
Three years ago He left us, a scattered company to sing His name, and to be His witnesses unto the nations.
At that time I was called Thomas the Doubter. The shadow of my grandfather was still upon me, and always I would have truth made manifest.
I would even put my hand in my own wound to feel the blood ere I would believe in my pain.
Now a man who loves with his heart yet holds a doubt in his mind, is but a slave in a galley who sleeps at his oar and dreams of his freedom, till the lash of the master wakes him.
I myself was that slave, and I dreamed of freedom, but the sleep of my grandfather was upon me. My flesh needed the whip of my own day.
Even in the presence of the Nazarene I had closed my eyes to see my hands chained to the oar.
Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother.
Doubt is a foundling unhappy and astray, and though his own mother who gave him birth should find him and enfold him, he would withdraw in caution and in fear.
For Doubt will not know truth till his wounds are healed and restored.
I doubted Jesus until He made Himself manifest to me, and thrust my own hand into His very wounds.
Then indeed I believed, and after that I was rid of my yesterday and the yesterdays of my forefathers.
The dead in me buried their dead; and the living shall live for the Anointed King, even for Him who was the Son of Man.
Yesterday they told me that I must go and utter His name among the Persians and the Hindus.
I shall go. And from this day to my last day, at dawn and at eventide, I shall see my Lord rising in majesty and I shall hear Him speak.