“Senior,
that's who I am now. I believe in all that stuff.”
“Then
why are you still on meth? I am no expert but I am damn sure that
isn't in the Bible.”
I
didn't know he had even noticed that. I thought I was discreet. I had
no response to that. I hadn't started my Christian experience at some
euphoric revival. I was easing into it slowly. Maybe I would stop
doing drugs at some point. Maybe I would just wean myself off as
church filtered into the drug-shaped void in my life.
Besides,
not doing drugs was just a rule. It was like a little caveat of
Christianity. The big picture was much greater. If Christianity was a
mural salvation would cover the canvas, painted in gold, red, purple,
bright and beautiful. The rules would be the black border tracing
along the edge of the mural.
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