God Lives In The Attic

I chose this image only because I was looking for something a little vintage in an illustration, it's only coincidence that I happen to line up with it politically.
Today's sermon, boys and girls, is all about God.
I've taken this job, y'know, where I've been trusted with the well-being of three young and beautiful children. They are good kids who have done a pretty great job of raising themselves (insofar as any kid can). Their parents have had broken hearts and little time to oversee many of the things that typical parents take for granted.
Not long after I arrived, the 7-year old boy asked me if we could pray that night. He wanted the candles in my room lit, the lights turned off and he wanted us all to kneel Hallmark-card style on the bed with the palms of our hands pressed together and our eyes turned upwards. He'd seen it on a card once and that's the sum total of what he knew about praying.
So, I taught them the "God Blesses" portion of prayer....God bless mommy and God bless daddy...and all the way down the line till God had properly blessed Pikachu.
Then we moved on to formal requests, "God, please help me be a good boy tomorrow and tell no lies and not hit my brother..." Those were shorter than the "God Blesses" and stopped short of "God, please let me eat as much candy tomorrow as I want."
And, we were almost done, and my trusty 7-year old companion said, "Does God live in the attic?" And, I kind of crooked my head to the side, in that "I'm not sure what you mean" kinda way. And he held his pose and pointed to his up-turned eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and explained that every picture he'd ever seen of somebody praying, they were always looking up. And, up is the attic, ergo: God lives in the attic.
This was the precise moment where I decided that I was raised as a Christian, and to stay true to my (albeit, loosely woven) beliefs, I had to start some kind of God and heaven and angels dialog with these kids.
Today they attended their first church service. It was actually their first church ever for anything, I think. And it went well. And there was this amazing African-American woman preacher who was ALL over it. The net out of her sermon today was to follow your heart.
I cried.
Yea. I'm a total emotional bomb. Ask anybody who's ever married me or been raised by me.
But, I think I'm doing the right thing here, and I'm more sure than ever that God probably does live in the attic....