I found myself gazing up at the giant cross above the altar in the same way I’d done every Sunday as a child, and waiting for some sign, some light, to shine down and show me God was real. I’d been waiting around all of my life for that light, but so far nothing had ever come. When I was a kid, I expected it would appear like magic, but even then the idea seemed silly. I did wonder what happened when we died, though, and I’d wondered about it for most of my life. Thinking that nothing happened, that there was absolutely nothing following all of this pain, seemed just as silly as magic. No,
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