Fifteen and questioning everything, I said, I don't believe in you.

If you are real...Touch me. Speak to me. Give me a vision.

Is this not how it works?

If I obey, will you not...Prosper me? Bless me? Make me known?

I was confused. I misunderstood.

If you are never to physically touch me, nor audibly speak, or ever give me a vision...You are the realest thing in this universe to me.

Though scientism rule everything around me, my faith in you keeps me; poor but my soul prosperous, broken but blessed, and known by heaven.

God, you are the realest!