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When I was maybe 7 or 8, I used to try and imagine how big God actually was. I would try and "logically" figure out his size based on the size of cities and states. Like his hand had to be as big as California.
My mother told us we came from heaven. At about 5 or so, I said, "Jesus must've looked all over heaven to find me a brother that matches me."
My parents never taught us to be very religious, once when visiting my grandmother, she put us to Sunday school.
After the lesson grandmother asked us what we had learned, and I pointed at my little brother announcing the only thing the lesson had left in my mind: "you are Jesus Christ, God's son!"
Obviously, my brother was the only person I had heard to be referred as "son", so of course he was Jesus.
When I was young, my Sunday School teachers asked my class if Jesus had ever spoken to us. When we said no, they told us that he would someday. For a while, I believed that one day, Jesus would show up at my bedroom door to have a conversation with me!
I used to think that Muslims didn't eat ANYTHING during Ramadan, instead of fasting during the day and eating at night. So when I started hearing that people die if they go, say, a week without eating, I thought, "That's not true, some people do it for a whole month for their religion!"
I used to believe that Bible stories were not only fairy tales, but that they were written by Disney.
Because Christmas was in December and Easter was in April(ish), I thought that Jesus' whole life was lived in that time frame. He was born on Christmas, then BAM! turned into an adult a few month later.
You know, because he's God and all, and when you're a kid, that's the same as magic.
One sunny Sunday in June just after summer vacation started when I was seven, I was swinging while my mom's back was to me as she was hanging the clothes to dry. It was a perfect moment to really lean back and swing high like I was told not to. I leaned a little too far back and slid off the swing, bashing my elbow on a rock. God had gotten me!
I ran into the house and buried my face crying into the couch so he wouldn't hear me, after all I'd gotten what I deserved for disobeying my mom. Complaining would just make Him angrier. For the rest of the day I stoically held my arm still and said I was fine. In my mind I had to accept my punishment and it would stop hurting when God forgave me.
By nightfall it was clear something was seriously wrong with my arm so they took me to the hospital. I actually broke my elbow and for some reason spent 3 days in the hospital (this was back in the days when parents couldn't stay) This really scared me so I was very wary of disobeying my parents for quite a while.
When I was little I used to think that God looked like the KFC colonel who lived in the heaven and never slept while he watches over us. I also used to think that he always smiles...
The Rain Was gods way of crying out to his people
My church's pastor, who is also my sister's godfather, had a brown beard. He was also one of the kindest people I knew and still is. When I was little, I honestly thought he was Jesus.
I used to belive there was man who lived in the sky that punished the wicked and bless the good.
I used to believe that Jesus and all of the wise men lived under my bed.
I used to believe that when the sun was shining as it rained, the devil was beating his wife
My Grandma use to tell me that when it was thundering that Jesus was bowling and got a strike. She also told me that when it was raining out that she Jesus was sad today.
i used to belive that when it rained god was peeing and when it thundered he was farting!!!
I used to believe that black and white animals i.e, pandas, penguins, zebras, white tigers, etc. were the ones God had forgotten to color in his coloring book.
I used to believe that Jesus was buried in the cemetery near my house and actually once went there to look for his gravestone.
That nuns had no feet. I lived next door to a convent and as a 4 or 5 year old, when they walked by my house in their flowing black habits, they all seemed to be floating past, not walking like other people did.
I used to believe that when it was raining, God was crying.