Christians are great. Fantastic people. Really. (I find it immensely frustrating that, even when I'm trying desperately hard to be sincere, I still sound sarcastic.) I genuinely love the church and the people in it. But, they aren't half weird sometimes. Take the church service I went to last Sunday night. An act of worship involving writing down sins and problems in our lives, taking the paper to the front of the hall, and jumping on it. (Apparently to symbolise our having faith to move mountains.) Wandering around the hall while singing, to symbolise 'taking ground'. And a middle-aged woman, who clearly thought she was blessed with a gift for prophetic dancing, and seemed to be miming milking a giant cow, and walking like a velociraptor.

Now, I freely admit that I sometimes have a problem with cynicism. I chose to go along with all of the above, precisely because it's exactly the sort of thing I usually raise a satirical eyebrow at, and that usually helps nobody at all. But my goodness, it's hard not to make snide comments. These people practically take the piss out of themselves; how am I supposed to resist giving them a helping hand in the process? Picture a recovering alcoholic, wandering into a pub, and being surrounded by people chugging down every conceivable alcoholic drink. How easy would it be for this recovering alcoholic to stay dry? Perhaps I'm being melodramatic, but I consider myself a kind of recovering cynic. Middle-aged women dancing like velociraptors are likely to send me off the deep end. I know I need to stay in the metaphorical pub. After all, what's the alternative? But I know I'll need God's help to stay on the wagon.