Tigger is 14 and she believes in God.
For Tigger, life is simple – like that of a small child. Tigger believes that the universe revolves around her. How else to explain that her God caters to her every need? Tigger believes that she will never go thirsty or want for food – her God would never allow that. And when, for a moment, she thinks that perhaps she might have been left too long – alone or hungry – her God returns to ratify her faith.
Tigger doesn’t know that, sometimes, her God is distracted by other cares and worries, other interests and passions. Tigger doesn’t know that, sometimes, in a tiny dark corner of his soul, her God feels put-upon or resentful of her demands.
Tigger only knows that by dint of a cocked head or a warm nuzzle, or the lazy swish of her tail, her God’s attention is returned to her – with a hand on her head or his fingers drawn through her coat.
Tigger doesn’t know that her presence has carried her God through the darkest of days; that her calming presence has soothed the bitterest vitriol and coaxed the dawn out of night’s darkest moments.
Tigger knows only that she is loved – by her God.
This I believe.
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