The little boy and I were listening to an audio book on the way to school. In the audio book, the narrator described an America where the church was the highest power and everything was extreme Christian.
The little boy interrupted the book shortly before we arrived to school. I hit pause and listened to his question, as I always do.
“My friend Marvin says that he thinks hell is where you’re shot with guns every single second and the devil’s the one who shoots you.”
When she was little, she took care of herself. There was adult guidance, but to what extent, she cannot remember much. Except barbies. She remembers those. And time spent with the neighbor children. They were as much her teachers as any adult ever could be. And Nickelodeon. Yes, Nickelodeon.
Amazing that she grew up into a decent person. The adult examples weren’t the best, and the adult men were way worse than any other functional human could be. There were drugs, people on drugs, violence, fornication, violent fornication, and several men. Some of which were one and the same, others were not.
I believe in the magical.
Not because these things necessarily have special powers, but because I believe in the power of belief in something.
To quote my man, “What you believe works for you, to the extent that you believe it.”
I’ve known a Christian who was healed of a terrible bone cancer through the power of prayer.
I’ve seen vicious prayer-encloaked gossip sessions turn terrifying, as the room filled with demons.
I’ve been caught up in shared visions with a close girlfriend.
