on the Power of Prayer
With the church alight in its own inferno of scandal and criticism, it’s difficult for someone growing up in a time of change to continue to adapt to the Church’s views. Especially when that someone isn’t completely convinced in the first place.
My mom is a non-practicing Catholic. My dad was, too. Thankfully, religion didn’t make things difficult for them to start a family. They were able to have me before any type of marriage talk came up. Just a couple crazy kids! And lucky for them because I am so precious.
So, while I still don’t know if I believe in God, I can’t help but acknowledge the signs that point to his existence. Like at Thanksgiving 2004 when I clogged the basement toilet at my grandma’s house and couldn’t find a plunger. I flushed and flushed and each time the water came closer to the rim of the toilet. I knelt down and prayed my fucking ass off. “Please, God, if you’re there. Please, please, please don’t let me ruin Thanksgiving. Please or my mom is going to beat my ass.” I flushed again. Lo and behold, the water flushed and all was well. I washed my hands, pointed up at no one, and went back for my third plate of carbs like nothing happened. So you’re gonna sit there and tell me this isn’t all connected? Fuck outta here.
Chicago’s own @joeyvcomedy shares how prayer has kept him safe throughout the years.