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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.
I used to believe that God and Mother Nature were married.
When I asked my mother what God looked like, she said something along the lines of, "Nobody really knows. He is a giant Being."
I didn't know what the word "being" meant because I was so young, so I thought she had said he was a "giant bean." So for a few years of my early childhood I would picture God as an enormous white lima bean.
My sister thought there was a character in the bible called Baby Beezus and continued to think this until the age of 22.
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.
I used to believe that God looked exactly like the picture of Abraham Lincoln on an American penny.
I used to believe that God resembled George Washington - specifically, the actor playing George Washington in a car dealership's President's Day sale.
I knew that Jesus died on a cross, and I concluded that this must have made
him rather cross. I also imagined the cross as a bed of nails leaning against
a wall, holding up a scowling Jesus.
When I was a little girl, my parents told me that God could see and hear everything. From then on, I had this picture of God as a giant man who was completely covered in eyes - even the bottoms of his feet.
WHen i was little, I thought God looked exactly like the fairy godmother from cinderalla!
I was never religious, but I had a very Christian friend in first or second grade. We were sitting on the floor one day, watching a class video, and she was telling me how she was very upset because she'd been to church on Sunday and found out during the sermon that baby Jesus had gotten a splinter in his foot. So, for a long time, I pictured Heaven as having hardwood floors...
I used to believe that God and Father Christmas were one and the same. When I was about 5, my siblings broke it to me that Father Christmas wasn't real. I think mum was farly shocked when I refused to go to church because God didn't exist.
That one took a while to clear up.
When I was little, I used to scoot over in my bed to make room for my guardian angel to lay down and sleep. I figured after following around after me all day long, he'd be plenty tired and need a rest!
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 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.
I used to believe that Jesus and all of the wise men lived under my bed.
i used to believe that I could contact god by tying a letter to a helium balloon and letting it go in my backyard.
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"
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.