Saturday, November 23, 2002

When I was little, I was as scared of God as the Devil. I would worry when I was alone, that the Devil would make a grab for me. His fiery hand would come crashing through the floor and I’d jump and try to run away. But he was always faster, and he’d catch my leg.

In my terror, I’d cry out to God and He’d respond by grabbing my hand. The Devil would pull me down, and the Lord would pull me up and eventually they’d tear me apart.

If my parents had better minded their vow to raise me in the faith, only the smallest bit of theological training could’ve saved me from the terror. But I wasn’t brought up in the faith, so my little Manichaen mind feared God every bit as much as the Devil.

It’s been strangely prophetic in my life. I’ve always been torn. I’ve never thought the condition of man quite fair. But the older I grow, the less I concern myself over being torn apart. I’ve taught both halves to operate fully on their own. It’s just as well, I think, to have all my bases covered.

posted by Sarie @ 4:37 PM >Comments: 0