On Magical Thinking

Once upon a time in a warehouse-turned-church-auditorium not that far away, I was a teenage girl who believed in magic. The magic of a God who loved me, who was always there to give me victory over emotions or head colds and reveal his perfect will for my life. The magic of a God who parted the red sea for Moses and who was available to provide parking spots in shopping centres. I believed in the fantasy of Frank Peretti’s angels and demons, present at all times, influencing people’s actions and behaviours (I was counselled to anoint the doorways of my house with oil to keep my mother’s new age demons at bay).

I believed in the mighty power of God to protect his own from Satan who was roaming the earth seeking to trick me. I believed the earth was 6000 years old. I believed in a literal heaven where we sang worship songs for eternity with the faithful, and a literal hell, a place of eternal conscious torment for unbelievers; and in the skies turning red when Jesus returned on a white horse. I believed one of our pastors who told and retold the story of how he raised someone from the dead.

Less dramatically, (and with a great deal of nostalgia), I remember the tenderness of belief in God’s presence, of being known. His eye is on the sparrow the Bible says, he was always there to watch over me. It settled and calmed me.

As wild as it is to write these things now, I needed it all to be true so badly. I have a complicated relationship with the way it was exactly what I needed and caused me immense harm.

ON how I use magic now…

Click through to the full article on Substack, you’ll find some beautiful tools for anxiety and more on how I use magical thinking now.

And if you’d like to make a counselling appointment online Australia & New Zealand wide / or in-person in Marrickville, you can book in here.

You’ll also find me at The Religious Trauma Collective.

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