Signs and Deliverance

Abstract

Daddy religion, had the me signs, looking and for Daddy signs was from as the faithful time to I was it as a Mama litde thing. and the It rest was of his religion, the signs, a d Daddy was as faithful to it as Mama and the est of us were to the Baptist church. He believed that God was constandy trying to tell him something, and rather than just spitting it out in plain English, God spoke through coded messages hidden in the events of daily life. Daddy thought those messages, or signs, would inevitably lead to some reward or valuable truth that was waiting to be uncovered. He told anyone who'd listen that the key to leading a righteous life lay in being receptive to the signs God set out for you and being willing to follow whatever paths those signs pointed to. When it came to his signs, Daddy was always both receptive and willing. Thus I grew up understanding God as a timeless, powerful being who, because of His immeasurable boredom, was treating my daddy to a lifelong game of holy scavenger hunt. Follow the right signs and you win the big prize. I didn't put much stock in Daddy's sign-following religion when I was young. I figured it was just him holding on to his country superstitions Daddy's people were as country as could be. Mama said it wasn't about him being country; it was about him being just plain crazy, thinking any litde thing that struck him as the least bit out of place was a sign from God. She used to laugh at him right to his face. I did too, until I learned better.