The Voice of God

In my teenage years, Southern Baptists got their hooks in me. Teenagers, especially from a dysfunctional family, are dreadfully vulnerable to propagandizing. Unless there is some longterm intervention, they are lost in the swamp of Fundamentalism. For me, rescue came by way of disillusion, curiosity and chance encounters with guides. I fully understand the mentality of Cristian Fundamentalism and their stubborn denial of Christs' teaching.
At that time, I was a fervent convert. I was "On fire". I was frightened and it was a scary world, one owned by the Devil and even my own body was corrupt. Bang and Dang, besieged and confused. It took years to extricate myself. Even today, the programming wisps about, like some unidentifiable stench. Thirty-some years later!
What is frightening about "Them" is their callous disregard of the teachings of Jesus. In the Words of Jesus, one can find clues to the nature of this world. I have a high regard for those teachings, though I willfully neglect them, when it suits me. After all, I am a Backslider. My callus disregard is therefore explainable, if not justified.
I kid you not; I desperately wanted to have a chat with God. If longing has any weight at all, I carried on my shoulders a gargantuan sack and even Santas' bag of toys for tots a fraction beside mine. To no avail. No voices. Nothing. It never dawned on me that God may be bored to talk with a closed-minded, wimpy and pimply teenage boy.
Years later I did hear a Voice, an attempt to establish a conversation. I was somewhat out of the grip of the indoctrination, yet I still was frightened, fearing the Devil. Dang. It never came back; I never heard it again. I knew it was kind and concerned. I felt it. It tried to start a dialog, hesitant and careful, gentle and aware. Given the winning lottery numbers, I refused to listen.
Now I hear God in my surroundings; chance snatches of conversation of strangers in the street, advice from friends, co-incidences, Freudian or Jungian slips, behavior of animals, my early morning adviser, dreams and daydreams and "shit that irks me". Lotta irking going on, let me tell you. Never knew that God would turn out to be so garrulous.