(originally posted via Tumblr, 04/15/2012)
When I was 13 years old, I was a lonely child with a big imagination. I’ve always loved the Final Fantasy series, the seventh installment particularly. When I was 13 I convinced myself that Cloud Strife, the game’s protagonist, was real. I would walk around in the woods and talk to him, tell him about my problems, ask him why he hadn’t shown up yet to take me off to his world. I made up stories about him and talked to him about my life and my thoughts. Eventually I grew up and understood that Cloud was as real as anything else in this world and in our minds and hearts are, but that he was never going to appear out of the sky and take me away to his world. It was out of naivete, childishness, and loneliness that I waited for him to show up and take me away from this world into another.
I fail to see how talking to Jesus, telling him about my problems, asking for his help, and waiting for him to come down from the sky and take me away to a different world is any less childish. We can grow out of all our imaginary friends except for God. That’s the one that we carry around with us, and what does it do to benefit our lives, other than make us feel angry at ourselves for being who we are, make us judge ourselves and others with anger and condescension? Why is it okay for me to grow out of worshiping Cloud Strife, but it’s blasphemy for me to grow out of worshiping Jesus Christ?