Oh, God
144 words
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.
The above essay is 144 words, a part of a series explained over here.
I loved this: I went in the opposite direction, determining as a child that religion was an attempt to reconcile oneself with a world which otherwise seems capricious and cruel.
I agree with the zealousness of children most of all: things were or they were not. Middle ground waited patiently for middle age.
As a former child zealot, I whole-heartedly feel the same.