I spoke with God the other day. She was 24, and had recently suffered her second miscarriage. God’s boyfriend sat in the corner of the room crying. She told me that she loved everybody, that there was no war in Iraq and that the government was testing her. “I’ll prove myself to the government if I have to.”
Overall, she was very peaceful to talk with, very serene. We were all OK, she told me. Strangely I found that comforting. The mother of God convinced her to be admitted to the hospital so she could come to the conclusion that she was not, after all, God. As I cosigned the voluntary commitment form, I wondered why we had to destroy her delusions…just so that the rest of us would not have so much to live up to? I felt sorry for all of us.