I go to church on Sundays. Occasionally. When I remember. Or when guilt shows up uninvited on Saturday night.

The rest of the week, I’m busy. Managing my life, dodging my problems, and generally operating under the assumption that I’ve got things under control. I don’t.

And when things fall apart — which they do, reliably — I suddenly remember there’s a God. I pray. I bargain. I promise things I have no intention of keeping. He sorts it out. I move on. Repeat.

So what am I exactly? A believer? Not quite. A non-believer? Also not quite. I’m something far more specific — a situational believer. Faith, fully activated, in emergencies only.

Think about it. From the moment I arrived in this world, God has been on call. Crying as a baby? He’s there. Teenage heartbreak? He’s there. Middle-age panic? Still there. I haven’t paid a single invoice. No subscription fee. No cancellation notice. Just unlimited, on-demand divine assistance, available around the clock.

Honestly, I’ve treated God like a personal concierge. And a remarkably patient one at that. The kind who never rolls his eyes, never puts you on hold, and never once says “you again?”

Last week I needed a raise. Badly. So I did what any reasonable situational believer does — I prayed. Not just to one god. To all of them. The popular ones, the regional ones, and a few who haven’t had a worshipper in several centuries. I figured a coalition of divine intervention couldn’t hurt.

I walked into my boss’s office armed with faith, optimism, and absolutely zero backup data.

I got a raise. Technically. The kind that makes you smile politely while something dies quietly inside you. Dark chocolate without the sophistication.

And just like that, every god I had prayed to was suddenly complicit in a conspiracy against me. I wasn’t grateful for what I got. I was furious about what I didn’t. I threw a proper cosmic tantrum. At God. At all of them. Loudly. Internally. On the drive home.

Here’s the thing I don’t like admitting. My faith doesn’t waver based on God. It wavers based on outcomes. Good result — He exists, He’s great, I’m grateful. Bad result — serious questions arise about His existence, His priorities, and frankly, His competence.

Which means my belief system is less about conviction and more about convenience.

I’m not sure what to call that. Flexible faith? Selective devotion? Either way, it’s not exactly something you’d carve into a church wall.

And if I’m brutally honest — maybe God isn’t the variable here. Maybe I am.

So I’ve decided to settle the matter once and for all. I’m a situational believer. Fully committed during turbulence, completely unavailable during smooth sailing. Like a fair-weather friend, except the friendship only flows one way.

I’d ask God what He thinks about this arrangement. But honestly, I’ll probably wait until I need something first.

Written before common sense could intervene — Kalyanasundaram Kalimuthu, June 22, 2026