"How have things been?" my therapist asked me as usual, once I was seated comfortably in an office chair ahead of her.

"They've been alright," I hesitated, "I guess."

"You guess? What does that mean?"

"Well, ah, hmmmmm... Uh, how do I put this?" I thought to myself aloud. 

"You can tell me anything. Just say it." my therapist shrugged, "I don't bite."

"Ah, well.... I guess- er... Shit... Uh... I-I think I'm going crazy." I stammered. 

"Why's that?" my therapist asked as she leaned back in her chair. 

"Well, uh..." I glanced up at all of the crucifixes my therapist had hung on the wall behind her, as well as the bookshelf with a bunch of bibles stacked on top, and then reached back to rub a handful of my damp hair, "I've been experiencing some weird shit for the last several days or so. And I don't know what to make of it."

My therapist narrowed her eyes, "Weird shit as in..."

"Like, things have been moving around my house while I've been home alone. I've also heard my mom come home, only to find that she hadn't yet come home. Stuff like that." I stopped as I nervously squeezed some of my damp hair, "I also got sprayed by a shit ton of water on the way over here, but neither myself or my mom could figure out what happened. We tried to figure it out, but we couldn't." 

My therapist remained silent as she took in everything I'd just thrown at her. That silence was deafening. After spending a few moments deep in thought, my therapist leaned forward, reached for a bible, and then put it on the desk in front of us. 

"Have you ever heard of the term 'Spiritual Warfare'?" she asked. 

"Yes. A lot!" I replied. 

"So, you're aware that more than just God can influence the world around us?"

"That's what I've heard. Not sure if I believe that stuff though." I replied. 

"And that's ok. You don't have to believe in it. Its existence doesn't depend on whether or not you believe in it." my therapist said, "You understand what I'm saying?"

"I think so." I mumbled, "I'm not quite sure if I like what you just said though."

"Again. That's ok. You don't have to like it. You don't have to believe it. But, I'm telling you, what you're going through is biblical." my therapist explained, tapping the leather-bound bible with her nails. 

"So... I'm not going crazy?" I squeaked. 

"Not at all!" my therapist practically shouted, "Everyone goes through stuff like this from time to time, regardless if they admit it." 

"So, what is it?" I asked apprehensively. I was kind of afraid of the answer. 

"It's spiritual warfare." my therapist answered, "You're very spiritually vulnerable at the moment, and everything, both holy and unholy, knows it."

I didn't like that answer, but I wasn't about to say anything. However, the look on my face must've said it all. 

"I know it sounds like woo-woo bullshit, but it isn't. There are countless stories in the bible from both the old and new testament, detailing what spiritual warfare is all about." my therapist attempted to assure me, "Plus, your mom played with the occult when she was a teenager and invited all sorts of fun shit into her life, and I've known plenty of people who have done similar things, and ended up opening spiritual doors they didn't know how to close. And, I've even experienced spiritual warfare in the physical realm. Demons don't like it when someone is on the verge of discovering God."

"I... I just don't know if I even believe in the bible, or God, or anything like that. Like, it's just, well, it's just hard for me to believe in things I can't see, feel, hear, and/or touch. Ya know?" I struggled, "I don't see how I'm close to 'discovering God' as you put it."

"Maya, your hair is wet." 

"Yeah, but-"

"Uh-uh. No buts! Your hair is clearly wet. Why?" 

"Well, uh, I don't know." I admitted, "But I don't want to jump to any wild conclusions." 

"You aren't jumping to wild conclusions if you ruled out any and all possible material causes." my therapist said, "Besides, you've clearly been going through a lot. I can just tell. What's getting to you?"

I took in a long, deep breath, and began to tell her all about the death of my reasonable atheism. I told her how I'd been challenging God for years. Asking the same questions. Going through the same patterns. Using the same tired arguments that I knew were bullshit, but I liked because they criticized God and couldn't be debunked or answered by the average Christian.

Basically, I'd go through a hard time, blame God for my suffering, realize my suffering was not a problem for God. Then, I'd get mad and try to disprove God using science, only to end up basically confirming the bible using science, and then I'd go through a period of "submission", only to scare myself out of putting all my trust in the Lord, and repeat the vicious cycle. I was sick of it too, but didn't know how to quit. I just didn't want to surrender myself to God, and I was probably gonna repeat the same stupid cycle a million times before I finally surrendered myself to God. Actually, more like if I surrendered myself to God.

I was just like that damn dog in Proverbs 26:11, and I knew damn well that I was constantly doing the same old dumb shit too, which made it so much worse for me. Unlike a dog, who probably doesn't put too much thought into eating its own puke, I kept making the same conscious decisions to make the same exhausted arguments against God, with just a single shred of hope that maybe if I listened to Christopher Hitchens or Stephen Hawking a couple more times, I'd pick up on an argument that put God between a rock and hard place that wasn't a logical fallacy, and couldn't be turned against me. 

Yet, each time I repeated the cycle, God would win in the end every damn time! So, what was I left to do after doing the same stupid thing many times over? Well, I basically told God to leave me the fuck alone. I knew He was real, but I wasn't ready to fall to my knees and surrender myself to Him. I wanted to see if I could take on the world without Him. And, well, He let me go, without hesitation. He just opened the gate and let me sprint away from His presence. And, what ended up happening? Well, in my therapist's office, I realized that if I couldn't handle losing silverware without explanation and later finding it in my bathroom sink, without being convinced I was about to get murdered, maybe I really shouldn't try to get through the rest of my life without some help and guidance from God. God really was working behind the scenes to protect me from things I didn't even know were threats.

I was a wuss without God, and that was ok. Most people are. But, with God, I was so much more powerful than all of hell combined! So long as I had God by my side, nothing from hell could even get near me unless it wanted to get instantly obliterated. 

"So, I have an assignment for you." my therapist told me towards the end of our session, "I know you're gonna think this is stupid or crazy or whatever. Trust me. I get it. But, if something happens when you're alone again, I want you to just call it out in Jesus' name. Just tell it aloud, 'In Jesus' name I command you to leave', or something along those lines. And, it will have to leave." 

"Uh... Okay?" I cringed. I really didn't think that would do anything besides make me look like an idiot.

"Trust me. It works. I know you think I'm bullshitting. But it works." my therapist reiterated, "Just do it. Nobody has to know that you said anything. I'm not taking your mom's approach. I'm not asking you to scream it from your roof. You just gotta command it to leave you alone in Jesus Christ's name, and it will leave you alone. That's it."

"Alright. I'll try it. But only if anything weird happens again." I finally said, "And if it doesn't work-"

"Oh, it'll work." my therapist interrupted me. 

With that, I headed out of her office and motioned to my mom, who was waiting in the lobby, that it was her turn. I had a lot to think about and chew on, so instead of spending the next hour waiting in the lobby for Mom playing Minecraft, I took the whole hour to type down my thoughts on my phone, just trying to make sense of everything I was dealing with. I was still very skeptical of everything, but at the same time, I was beginning to accept that there was more to reality than just the material world. But, that did not necessarily mean I believed it was the God the bible described Who ran the universe. It just meant I was beginning to accept the idea that there was something else going on neither I, or really anyone, could even begin to understand.