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I wish it was as simple as, do you believe in God?

Do you believe in the Bible?

Do you believe in Jesus?

Yes, to all of those things, but I have also believed I was Jesus.

I have spent months while psychotic, hearing the voice of God.

I have played video games with God and almost beat him.

I have walked through the streets of Los Angeles believing that I was not only witnessing the second coming of Christ, I embodied the second coming of Christ.

I have fed people food that I prepared while God told me which ingredients to add.  I believed that food would heal them.

God taught me to draw, to paint, to cook, and to sew.  God showed me how to make a Christmas tree out of copper wire and marbles that was one of the coolest Christmas trees I have ever seen.

God taught me how to decorate my apartment in a fantastic way.

I have known God intimately, at least while I was psychotic.  When I am stable on my medication, I go to church.

I try to sort out who the God of the Bible is compared to who the God of my psychotic mind is.  This is no easy task.

At times I miss the God of my psychotic mind.  He talks to me constantly and is wildly creative.  He shows me mystical and magical things.  He lets me in on secrets.  He tells me jokes that make me laugh.

The God of my stable mind is silent.

I reach out to him through prayer, but there is no clear answer.

I have a blessed life, and I thank God for each and every blessing that comes my way.  I believe he watches over me.  I believe he hears my prayers.  I believe he is ever present.

I believe someday I will meet him, and my first question will be, “If not you, then who?”

I think he’ll tell me he was there, watching over me, protecting me from myself.