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I remember watching my sister tell my mother (very seriously!) after coming home from our Christian daycare, "Mommy, I am not your child. I am God's child." She was apparently very angry that our parents had never told her she had been adopted from God...
My daddy took me to church every Sunday. I heard the preacher talk about the Father. Being only about 4 or 5 at the time, I just naturally assumed that he was talking about my father which meant that my father was obviously God. Then I had an accident and broke my leg. My grandfather (my daddy's daddy) got really upset that I had not been taken to the doctor and he YELLED at my daddy. Then the most shocking thing happened. My daddy said "Yes, sir" to my grandfather. Well! I had apparently been wrong. My grandfather must be God...and that meant that my daddy was Jesus. So I asked him why he had changed his name to Raymond. When he figured out what I believed he had to set me straight.
By the immaculate conception of the virgin Mary, I used to think that that meant that she was a virgin and that Jesus somehow just appeared- as in Mary was never pregnant in the first place. I also felt bad for Joseph because Mary cheated on him with God.
I believed i was jesus reborn, i dont know why but i truthfully believed that I was soooooooo special that i was the messiah and that god had send a girl this time because the boy had failed. My parents finally found out i was a fruitcake when in an argument with my dad I yelled "you can't sent me to my room cause you're not my real dad" and informed him that God was my dad.
My Dad used to always say "Born in a barn" if I left the door open. I believed this to be true and told all my friends I had been born in a barn like Jesus.
When I was young, I asked my parents where Hell was. They told me it was under the ground. I pictured the Devil living about four inches under the surface of the earth. This, naturally, made me terrified of digging a hole. Not a good belief for a child who lived on a farm and was expected to help with the planting! (Oh, I was also terrified of sticks that were partially buried. I thought they were the Devil's horns and refused to approach them.)
I used to think that Jesus was killed by a guy called The Conscious Pilot. And I was like "but I didn't think they had ariplanes back then"
The custodian at my elementary school had a family name, as is traditional in many Latino families. He never told me his name, but I could read his nametag, and for years I was terrified of him because I thought JESUS had come back to earth as was promised at church - but as a big, gruff custodian with a tattoo.
I knew that Christmas was a birthday party for Jesus, and who comes on Christmas? Santa Claus. So of course, Santa was Jesus after he got old.
My best friend and I met secretly to dig a hole in between our yards. We were convinced that we could dig down to where Satan lived and tell him that he was stupid and he would stop being mean.
About 2 or 3 feet in to digging the hole, a thunderstorm came, and at the first strike of lightning, we were convinced he was trying to get us so we ran home and didn't go near the hole for weeks.
When i was a kid i used to think that the Holy Trinity was made up of 4 people. Father, Son, Holy and Ghost.
It sounds better in my native tongue (Portuguese)
As a little girl, my mother took me to visit her godmother, an extremely old woman with lots of religious pictures/statures, etc. Since she was so old, and had pictures of Jesus everywhere, and I apparently mis-heard "God's mother", I truly thought she was the Blessed Mother. I was terrified of misbehaving. Even though her name was Cecilia, I figured it was a decoy so other people wouldn't mob her.
My sister told me that the Holy Spirit was just some guy that turned himself into a dove. Yeah... that was really embarrassing when my religion teacher asked us who the Holy Spirit was and I responded with that question. I was sure I was right! Thanks sis!
When i was about 4 to about 7 i thought god looked like the Count form Sesame Street, just not as a pupet, but as a purple person.
As a little Jewish girl, I couldn't understand my Christian friends concept of Easter. They would say "The Son rises", and I would think, "So what, it rises every day!"
I once asked my young uncle how Jesus got into your heart. He said, "Through your ears". For years I covered my ears with the blanket at night as I slept.
When I was little, my mom told me God was watching me all the time. So I would spend a great deal of time just staring up at the sky waiting for a giant eyeball to open up out of it and look back at me.
I made my first communion when I was eight. In the catechism classes we had to prepare us for it, the teachers told us that once we took communion, Jesus would live inside us forever.
So when I got home after the Mass and was just sitting around waiting for my aunts and uncles to arrive for my communion party, I was amazed to see that the skin on my chest was moving up and down slightly as if being hit from the inside. Really it was just my heart beating, but I had never noticed it before and I thought it was Jesus inside me, kicking me to let me know he was in there!
When i was little, at church they always used to tell us that Jesus was in our heart.
So when my friend's granddad had a heart operation I asked him if they found Jesus.
I'd always imagined a little mini Jesus running around in my heart.
I used to believe that when you could actually see the sun beams in the sky, that Jesus was coming to take us all. I always saw the sunbeams in the pictures with Jesus in them and I was terrified of sunsets where they showed up because I was sure I was going to die.
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