Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

THE KINGDOM :: 283
We thank thee that he can empathize with all those who fight
against the unseen forces of addiction, and that he is brave
enough to speak it aloud, to himself, to me, and to thee. And
we thank thee for Richard’s vulnerability, that he is fully
human, even as the rest of us are, and we ask thee to comfort
him, to see himself as the blessing to the world thou hast
made him to be, even in the midst of his petty afflictions.
Amen.”
“Fuck you, Maggie. Sometimes I really hate you.”
“The truth is often painful.” She patted his hand lovingly.
“But it’s good to take everything to God in prayer.”
“Have you ever been reported for malpractice?”
“My insurance is paid up. And you’re deflecting.”
He slumped in his chair.
“Do you want some advice?”
“Do I have a choice?” he asked.
“This insecurity of yours is a form of arrogance—”
“What are you talk—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me, you little coward.”
Richard sat up as if he had been punched in the gut.
Maggie continued, smiling beatifically. “If you think your
puny sins—or even your worst ones—are powerful enough
to invalidate or overpower the love of God, then you are as
full of shit as my composter.”
She leaned in until her red and pudgy face was almost
touching his. “You can choose to love yourself as God loves
you, or you can suffer. Your choice. But as long as you fight
your demons, you. Will. Be. Fighting.”
“Okay,” he said, trying to back even further into his chair,
“that’s obvious.”
“Not really. Lots of people think if they just ignore their
demons, they’ll go away. But they never do,” she leaned
back, and sat comfortably in her own chair again, restoring
the comfort of Richard’s personal space.