From God's Own Country to the Land of Milk and Honey: The Journey of Our Life and Faith

By Thomas Elias and Gracy Elias

Tom was born to an illiterate mother and brought up in a remote village in Kerala, India. His chance of becoming a successful professional and minister of the gospel in America was mighty little. The sovereign God put this country boy and a country girl together as a family to unfold His incredible master plan for their life.

Drs. Tom and

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Apr 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685562274

Thomas Elias

Dr. Tom Elias, engineer, university professor, pastor, and chaplain, has taught and preached God's Word for over thirty years. He is busy teaching and preaching in his church as well as outside. Dr. Gracy Elias is a scientist, educator, and pastor's wife. She dedicates her time to studying God's Word and ministering to people.Tom and Gracy have ministered in the US, India, and Mexico. They have two sons and four grandchildren and live in Sugar Land, Texas.

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Chapter 1

The Boy Who Would Be God’s Unlikely Little Hero

Sunday morning, May 26, 2019. I was a little nervous as I sat on the front pew. I was going to talk about my humble beginnings in my sermon to my church, Living Waters Christian Church, in Stafford, Texas. The title of my sermon was God’s Unlikely Heroes, based on Matthew 1:1, 5–6, which showed that a prostitute, a Gentile woman, and a shepherd boy were in the genealogy of Jesus. I was about to briefly describe the lives of God’s unlikely heroes, such as Rahab, the prostitute; Ruth, the Moabite; David, the shepherd boy; Peter, the fisherman; William Carey, the shoemaker; Nicky Cruz, the Hispanic gangster; and Dr. Ben Carson, the stupidest kid in the fifth grade.

I remembered telling my children a secret every day, from the day they were born: You can do anything with God’s help if you work hard. Never give up. This was a secret I probably said to myself subconsciously while I was negotiating my way through the early (and adult) days of my life.

The years of my education, my career, my family, my growing in Christ, and the many events that intertwined them crossed my mind as I sat on the pew. God knew me even before I was formed in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13). He had a master plan for my life, and He had been graciously and faithfully fulfilling it.

Then I said to the audience, I am certainly an unlikely person to be preaching to you this morning. The son of a mother who could not read or write and had the scars and rough edges of growing up on a farm in a remote village in India, my chance of being a successful professional in America and now a minister of the gospel was mighty little. But the sovereign God, in His mercy and grace, foresaw an unlikely, little hero in me.

Chapter 2

Give This Boy a Little Water So He May Die Peacefully

I cried loudly, Aahhhhhhh, I can’t take it! My screaming was really loud; all the family and neighbors could hear it—day and night. I was about four years old. I had an incurable, so it seemed, illness, which caused me severe stomach pain, with no relief.

Times were hard in Indian villages in those days. Hospitals were rare and far away. Many of the ones that existed had few facilities and medicines. Transportation was rare too. Taxis weren’t common, and there were few cars on the street.

My parents took me to the Ayurvedic and allopathic doctors near our village as well as far away. They had to carry me long distances while I cried loudly, drawing other people’s attention, irritation, and sometimes, sympathy. This went on for several months. The plight of life at home with all the other children was very much on their minds. My parents felt tired and helpless.

One time on the road, I was very weak, and there was little life left in me. My parents believed I was dying. They were so tired themselves after carrying me for miles. They felt so helpless. Desperate, they stopped by a home on the road. They told the homeowner, This is our little son. He is dying. Would you give him a little water so he may drink it and die peacefully?

In God’s providence, I did not die that day! My parents brought me back home. They took me to a new local Ayurvedic doctor. He gave me medication to take over a few days, and my stomach pain was gone!

The Lord stood by my side when I went through many other struggles and trials in my life. He brought me thus far to write this story of God’s sovereign grace, protection, guidance, and faithfulness.

Chapter 3

My Family

I grew up in the village of South Piramadom in Pampakuda Panchayat (county), in Ernakulam District in the southern state of Kerala in India. Our family (house) name was Thekkekarikulathil (Thekke means south and Karikulathil means elephant in the pond). The houses in Kerala were named somewhat similarly to the way places are named in the United States. For example, Round Rock in Texas was named so in recognition of the large rock in the middle of the city, and Twin Falls in Idaho derived its name from the two waterfalls in the city.

My parents and my siblings were a middle-class family in South Piramadom in those days. My father was a farmer. He had about ten acres of land. About a third of the land was paddy (rice) fields. Rice was our principal diet, and the paddy fields produced enough rice for our large family’s use. On the rest of the land, we grew other crops such as cashews, black pepper, ginger, turmeric, tapioca, vegetables (eggplant, melons, bitter melon, cucumber, chili pepper, etc.), pineapple, jackfruit, mangoes, bananas, and plantains. We also had rubber trees from which we collected sap. We produced rubber sheets by processing the sap with formic acid and running the product through a manually-operated machine. The rubber sheets were dried and sold for making commercial rubber products.

I was the fifth child among eight children—four sons and four daughters—of my father (Varkey Ittan, nicknamed Kochukunju) and mother (Sara Ittan). I called my father Appan and my mother, Amma. My parents’ eight children, from the oldest to the youngest, are Varghese, Paulose, Mani, Annakutty, Thomas, Mariakutty, Soosamma, and Thankamma. The first three and I are the sons, and the other four are the daughters. So I grew up with a bunch of girls because my brothers were much older than me.

I grew up without electricity in our home. Electricity was not available in most villages in Kerala in those days. When electricity became available, my father said kerosene lamps were just fine and he did not need electricity. However, once he got used to electricity in everyday life, he said, I just don’t understand how people can live without electricity! We studied under kerosene lamps until I was in middle school. Sometimes, the carbon monoxide from the kerosene lamps made us drowsy. We did not have a phone in our home. Very few in Kerala did when I grew up. So communication was a major challenge; relatives and friends showed up without calling ahead.

There was no gas or electric stove for cooking. Ladies used old-fashioned stoves with firewood to cook. In the rainy season, which is long in Kerala, this was a challenge because most families did not have dried firewood stored for cooking. Since we had ten acres of land, firewood was relatively easy to find.

Many of our neighbors did not have a good source of water to meet their needs. They came to our pond to bathe as well as to wash their clothes. We had an iron to iron our clothes. It used charcoal from coconut shells to keep it hot. One of our neighbors who did not have an iron often came to our home to use it.

My Parents and Grandparents

Appan and Amma were both eighteen years old when they were married. In India, in those days, the wife usually moved into the husband’s home after marriage. However, Amma did not have any brothers; she only had two younger sisters. So Appan moved to Amma’s family residence (Thekkekarikulathil) from his family (Thakarelil) in North Piramadom, the northern part of the village of Piramadom.

Appan became the father figure in my mother’s home soon after his marriage since my grandfather (my mother’s father) had been very ill. Appan took care of all the affairs of my mother’s home, which now was his home. This was no small thing since the extended family (my grandparents, my mother’s sisters, etc.) also lived in the same house.

Appan was the youngest among the seven siblings (he had two older brothers and four older sisters). His mother died when he was a young child. So he was only able to complete fifth grade in school. He could read and write his mother tongue (Malayalam) well and could read and write minimal English. He also learned enough Syriac language to participate in our church liturgy.

My parents

Appan never received much love from his parents. His mother was sick and died when he was young. His father was an alcoholic. So Appan’s interactions with his children (my siblings and I) were sometimes rough. He loved us all, but he did not know how to express it very well. This was typical of most men in India in those days. As far as I can remember, Appan never spanked his children. He disciplined us with his words. Sometimes, they were harsh words. The words he said to me in his anger sometimes pierced my young heart. Looking back, I am sure Appan did not mean those words.

A farmer, Appan managed and worked hard on our land. A farmer’s life was difficult in those days. Appan tilled the paddy fields with a plow pulled by two oxen; there was no tractor. He worked with his hands right along with the hired workers. He provided for his family and the extended family. He was frugal with his money and was a good steward of his possessions.

Appan was a man of integrity—a man of his word. His friends and neighbors respected him for his honesty and integrity. I remember the times when he sold his farm products on the market. The wholesale merchants did not often count his products; they just honored his word.

My parents belonged to the Orthodox Syrian Christian Church (also called Jacobite Syrian Christian Church). Their ancestors had belonged to this church for many generations. The Orthodox Syrian Christian Church was and still is a traditional church, somewhat similar to the Catholic Church in their religious practices.

Amma was the full-time cook and caretaker of our large family. She worked hard on our farm—often working right along with the hired workers. Amma helped cut and collect the shrubs from the land for use as fertilizer for the paddy fields. Life was hard for her. But she did everything graciously without complaint.

Always hospitable, Amma welcomed our visitors with love and care any time of the day. Since we did not have an electric or gas stove, it meant hard work preparing meals, sometimes on very short notice. Guests came unannounced, even at night. Refrigerators were almost unheard of in our village, and meals had to be prepared fresh each time.

Amma knew how to express her love to her children, and the children knew their mother would do anything for them. She taught us the meaning of unconditional love. She was a gracious woman of modesty and noble character. Her wisdom was way beyond her circumstances and education. Amma loved all her eight children equally and showed care and concern for them all her life. All eight of her children are still alive.

Amma could not read or write. Her older (and only) brother had been sick for a long time after completing his fifth grade in school. In the superstitious society in which Amma lived, her family and friends said her brother got sick because he had gone to school. So Amma’s parents pulled her out of school when she was in preschool, and she remained essentially illiterate.

I look back and marvel at God’s amazing grace that gave my illiterate mother’s son (me), born in an unknown little village in India, the highest degree (PhD) in engineering from one of the top universities in the United States. I can only say, Look what the Lord has done!

My paternal grandfather (Varkey) was a wealthy man. But he was an alcoholic and disposed of much of his land and possessions one after another. Appan did not have good memories of him as a father. He died at the age of eighty-six. I never saw my paternal grandmother. She died at an early age when my father was a young boy.

I never saw my maternal grandfather (Paulose) because he died a few years before I was born. He was a farmer and a small businessman. After a long period of medical treatment at various hospitals, he died of oral cancer at the age of fifty. He used to chew opium, which apparently contributed to his cancer.

My maternal grandmother, Annamma, was a sweet lady and spent her life with my parents and our family for over fifty years as a widow. We called her Velliamma. She was very hospitable. Velliamma lived to a ripe old age of about one hundred (I think she stopped counting her age after ninety!). My siblings and I loved her as a matriarchal figure in our home.

My maternal grandmother, Annamma

My Siblings

The educational awareness in our agrarian society in those days was low. So many children in our community rarely went to, let alone finished, high school. The sons were generally expected to help the father on the farm, and the daughters were to do household chores and support the farming.

My siblings and I went to the elementary school in South Piramadom called New LP School and the Mar Thoma Memorial (MTM) High School in Pampakuda, which was about a mile and a half from our home. MTM High School was a state-supported school. It was the only high school within a radius of about six miles.

I went to school with only one or two shirts during most of my school years. Often, I wore the same shirt five days a week. During the weekend, I washed it in a pond on our land and dried it on a clothesline. When I was in elementary school, there was one day I did not go to school because I did not have a good shirt to wear. My memory is sketchy, so I don’t remember the details. With my father’s permission, I went to a tailor that day and had a new pair of shorts and a shirt stitched for me (ready-made garments were not available in those days). I was very proud to wear my new shorts and shirt to school the next day.

One time, I found that one of my friends did not have any shirts to wear to school. So I gave him one of the two shirts I had. Another time, I saw a beggar sitting on the roadside on the way home from school. I went home and brought all the savings I had (a few coins) and gave them to him.

During my trip to India in 2020, I met Kuttappan, my elementary school classmate. He told me he could not continue his education beyond the sixth grade because he did not have a shirt to wear in the seventh grade. My eyes got wet somewhat when I heard this. I remembered, once again, there were many students in my school and college classes who never reached their potential simply because of the circumstances in which they grew up. I deserved no better than Kuttappan. My heart was filled with thankfulness that God, in His sovereignty, walked me through my life, though difficult and unpredictable it was at times. He never left me alone or forsook me! Great has been His faithfulness.

My oldest brother Varghese (I called him Velliettan, meaning oldest brother) helped my father on our farm. My brother Paulose went on to become a homeopathic doctor. My brother Mani pursued a certificate program in civil engineering after high school. My older sister Annakutty became a homemaker. I helped my father in farming sometimes. I saw my father’s hard work on the farm to support the family, and I never wanted to be a farmer when I grew up.

My sister Mariakutty earned her PhD in Hindi, the national language of India, and was a professor at Maharajah’s College in Mahatma Gandhi University in Kerala. She immigrated to the United States in 2002. She currently lives in Houston, Texas. My sister Soosamma worked as a high school teacher at MTM High School, Pampakuda, her alma mater. My youngest sister Thankamma worked as a nurse in Kerala and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and later became a Registered Nurse (RN) in Houston, Texas. She has lived in the Houston area with her family since 1991.

With Appan (fifth from the right) and my siblings at Amma’s funeral (1995)

The first wedding I remember attending was that of my oldest brother, Varghese. At the time of his marriage, he was at home helping our father on the farm. The wedding was done in St. John’s Orthodox Syrian Christian Church, Pampakuda (known as Pampakuda Valia Pally, meaning big church). Velliettan and his wife lived with our parents, other siblings, and our grandmother—a large multi-generational family—in the same house, as was the custom in those days.

With Appan (middle) and extended family

My sister Annakutty was married to P. J. Varghese, who lived about two miles from our home. They were also married at St. John’s Orthodox Syrian Christian Church, Pampakuda. I was in eighth grade at that time. I still remember participating in the wedding as a proud little brother.

All my siblings (and their families) live in India now, except Mariakutty and Thankamma.

Chapter 4

Christianity in Kerala

Kerala, where I grew up, is a state in southwestern India. It has a population of about 33.3 million, according to the 2011 census. This is about 2.76 percent of the population of India. The people primarily represent three major religious groups: 54.7 percent Hindus, 26.6 percent Muslims, and 18.4 percent Christians. About 0.3 percent follow other religions or have no religion. The Christian population in the southcentral part of the state may be as high as 50 percent. Many of the schools, colleges, and hospitals in Kerala (and India) are run by Christian organizations.

The people of Kerala are ethnically Malayalees (those speaking Malayalam, the native language of Kerala). Most of the Keralites derive their ancestry from Dravidian communities that settled in Kerala. The Aryan community that settled in north India later mixed with the Dravidians in south India. Additional ancestries come from millennia of trade links across the Arabian Sea, whereby people of Arab, Jewish, and other ethnicities settled in Kerala. The current population in Kerala is somewhat mixed.

Christianity in Kerala dates back to the first century AD. It is believed that Apostle Thomas, the disciple of Jesus, traveled to India. Middle East countries and Kerala had trade relations during the early centuries prior to that. Apostle Thomas landed in Cranganore (now called Kodungallur) on the Kerala coast in AD 52. Jewish settlers existed in Cranganore even before the Christian era. These Jews are said to have arrived with King Solomon’s first fleet. Apostle Thomas found a receptive audience among the local Hindu and Jewish populations, many of his converts coming from the high-caste Nambudiri Brahmins, the dominant landowning caste of Kerala.

Apostle Thomas visited various places in Kerala and preached the gospel. He baptized many Jews and Hindus who believed and thus ushered in the Christian faith in Kerala and India. The widely accepted belief is that Thomas established seven churches (communities) in the state. The Christians in Kerala, over the years, came to be known as St. Thomas Christians. Apostle Thomas was martyred in Mylapore near Madras in the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu in AD 72.

Many Christians from Syria later migrated to the coast of Kerala. They followed the episcopalian tradition they inherited from the Syrian Christians in Antioch. Over the many years that followed, hundreds of Syrian Christian churches were established all across Kerala, especially in the south and central areas. It was as a consequence of this Syrian migration and the traditional use of the Syriac language in church services that the entire Christians in Kerala came to be called Syrian Christians.

The Orthodox Syrian Christian Church where I grew up was not an Evangelical Church. It observed many Christian traditions. The church believed in most of the teachings of the Bible, but it functioned and was maintained mainly on traditions rather than on the Old and New Testament teachings of the Bible. Prayers to Mother Mary and saints were integral parts of the church’s teaching and services. The church practiced infant baptism, unlike most evangelical churches, which baptize adults (and old-enough children) who commit their lives to Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord. The church did not emphasize the message of salvation through Jesus Christ, although the priests quoted and sometimes read the scriptures in their liturgical reading on Sundays.

About 90 percent of the residents of South Piramadom, where I grew up, and surrounding areas were Christians. Most of the Christians in the area belonged to the Orthodox Syrian Christian Church, and a few belonged to Pentecostal and other evangelical churches.

There were only a few Hindu families in South Piramadom. The Hindu families belonged to various castes, mostly based on the kind of jobs they had (e.g., carpenter, mason, barber, priest). The caste system is somewhat similar to the racial system in the United States. The big difference is that there are hundreds of castes in India.

The Hindu families in South Piramadom coexisted harmoniously with the majority Christian community. The Christian and Hindu children went to the same schools I went to. There was no distinction or separation of students based on their religion or caste. Many of the Hindus belonging to the various castes later got educated and moved away, pursuing other jobs or careers.

Appan was a pious Orthodox Syrian Christian, resistant to the gospel of salvation most of his life. Appan, however, accepted Christ as his personal Savior in his old age, just a few years before his death in 2002. Amma found Christ as her personal Savior and Lord a few years before her death in 1995.

Chapter 5

The Henpecked Boy!

Oh, my nose, my nose! I cried. My mother came rushing to me from the kitchen. She saw my nose bleeding and asked, What happened?

I said, That chicken…that chicken…she bit me!

When I was a young boy, about six years old, my sisters and I used to play around our house. We had several chickens we used to raise in our home. The chickens grew up around the house, picking grain, worms, and anything else they could eat. There was a chicken coop near our house. The chicken coop had holes at the bottom to allow the chicken droppings to fall down to the ground. The chicken feet often showed through these holes. The chickens went into the coop when it got dark in the evening, and we closed the door.

There were foxes in the woods not very far away. Once in a while, a mean one came near the chicken coop at night. All the chickens made so much noise that they woke up my father. He got out and drove the fox away. If the fox was sneaky and brave enough, he even popped his head into the bottom holes of the chicken coop and got away with a piece or two of the live chicken feet.

Whenever we had a guest, one of our chickens graciously gave its life for our meal. My mom fed the chickens some grain, and they all came to eat it. She then tactfully caught one of them and gave it to my father, who sacrificed it for the meal. There were a couple of times when my mom said to me, You are the young man around. Go and kill this chicken and bring it back. Scared though I was, I put up a brave front and finished the job! I never felt good about eating the chicken I killed.

The hens laid eggs, which my mother often used to make omelets for us. If my sister or I had an accident and fell down or got hurt, my mom opened an egg and made us drink the raw contents directly from the egg to make us heal and feel better! Sometimes, my mom collected a bunch of eggs and had the hen sit over them for twenty-one days in a row to hatch them. Seeing the little chicks breaking out of the eggshells was an interesting thing for me to watch. Looking back, I marvel at God’s creation and how the eggs came out of the hen, and the chicks came out of the eggs. I am still not quite sure which came first, the chicken or the egg! All I know is the chickens, my sisters, and I coexisted around our house.

Several chicks came out after the hatching process, and the chicks closely followed their mother. Their mother was extremely protective of them. This was essential because there were foxes, mongooses, hawks, and