God used to exist. He doesn’t any more, but back in the early 1970s he was a major presence in my life. The world at that time was run by President Nixon and his adviser Ted Heath, but their power was limited, and even they had to defer to God’s authority. That’s how it seemed to me.
A howling spirit or a weeping martyr might burst forth, dripping blood or swathed in tongues of fire
I was encouraged by the adults to converse with God and to ask for his guidance and I spoke to him often, in class when we prayed, at night in my bedroom, and at Mass on Sunday. God listened to everyone, regardless of their wealth or status, and even great leaders had no better claim to his attention than I did. This made me feel special and powerful. It didn’t bother me that God never answered my prayers or fulfilled my specific requests.
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