When I had been sober for awhile, I was talking to my thirteen-year old son about my new found love of God. He nodded his head as I was talking, and for some reason I felt compelled to ask him if he believed in God. He replied, “Sure.”
I was a little surprised because he had never mentioned this to me before. I was very curious and pursued the matter. I asked him when he had started believing in God. He replied nonchalantly, “About a year ago.”
“What brought on this newfound faith?” I inquired. At this point, he hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I pressured him a little, because I really wanted to know. “How did it happen?” I said softly.
He looked at me a minute, trying to read my face. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Well, I asked him for something and he gave it to me. I guess I’ve believed in him ever since.” I was really on the edge of my chair now. I asked him what he had requested of God. He balked at this question and whined, “It’s personal, mom.”
I told...
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