I was raised in a Muslim family in Auburn. On Sunday mornings, my mother would wake my brother and me to Sunday school at the local Mosque right across from Auburn University. In every way, the religion was imposed upon me at birth. This past summer, at age 19, my faith came into question.

The Sunday before last was Eid-el-Fitr a holiday that marks the end of Ramadan — a month’s worth of fasting from dawn till dusk. Fasting during the month of Ramadan is one of the “five pillars” of Islam, tenants that affirm one as Muslim. The first pillar is belief in one God and affirming that Mohammad — after Adam, Moses, Jesus, and many other messengers — was the last Prophet sent to mankind.

This Ramadan, I went through the standard existential crisis every college student must face. Though it was Ramadan, and my family fasted every day and prayed for hours every night, I sought to answer questions about my religion that were more fundamental. This Ramadan, I took a deeper look into the faith I’d been practicing habitually for years.

I asked myself, first, if a religion was necessary to be a good person. I concluded that, yes, religion is necessary to be a good person because a de-facto human interpretation of morality is highly subjective. Our ethics should be defined by our Creator – if one exists, that is.

This took me through many sleepless nights pondering the does-God-exist question. I can’t see, hear, eat, smell or touch God — the physical senses we’ve been given allow no perception of Him. God can only be felt internally, in our heads — we must imagine Him. In this way, we use religion as a coping mechanism to exist. Worship of a supposed God that cannot rationally be described allows us to escape the hardship of life; whatever we cannot achieve in this life, we can achieve in the afterlife.

Though I’ve always thought of myself as a rational thinker, my belief in God defies reasoning. I seek God, expecting guidance and reward in the afterlife on the days I’m feeling most blue, when this life doesn’t go the way I want it. Was I taught religion as a child to make life more tolerable?

All humans, even those who don’t believe in anything, you’ll find, not only rationalize themselves out of belief but also find reasons not to believe. At times, I feel like I’m fighting human nature without belief. There must be a part of a soul that believes in a higher power naturally, aside from the religion that’s been forced upon it growing up.

My belief in God also stems from an early confrontation with death. My senior year of high school, I received a heart and double lung transplant that cured me of a chronic condition I was diagnosed with at 12. I only bring this up because in the weeks post-surgery, my life became a struggle to stay alive. Every waking second was pain, and as I’ve said before, it’s in times of hardship that our belief in a higher purpose becomes pronounced.

The majority of the world’s people consider themselves from an “Abrahamic” faith (Judaism, Christianity and Islam). Each religion suggests God sent humanity a chain of messengers throughout time. Though I’m sure some aspects of faith have been corrupted with time, is it coincidence that the Torah, Bible and Quran, each separated by centuries, contain the same stories of Prophethood?

Belief in one God is not “rational” in the traditional sense. It must be created within us internally. It takes time, effort and persistence. But you’re fooling yourself if you think science can explain everything. Science cannot describe the human spirit unquestionably; questions about consciousness, existence and the origin of life are still up for grabs. Until my rational side can provide me answers, my belief in God will remain.