Though I was raised by relatively progressive Christians in Mississippi, I reached my own conclusions; I felt the extremists had gotten it right.
I read the Bible and was convinced that God spoke to me, regularly and threateningly and lovingly. That’s how you knew it was really God— His menacing care. Speaking to God assured me that I was secretly better than everyone else, despite my obvious position at the bottom of the social pecking order.
Reflecting on those mystical experiences as an adult, I was confused. Had I really been religious, or was I just weird, or perhaps bit disturbed?
But children can be the purest zealots. A child can accept religious mythology with a passion and certainty that adults can rarely muster. Here they are—every single answer to every single question you haven’t yet lived long enough to learn to ask.