I was raised Jehovah’s Witness. I used to think atheists were sinners and going to hell. I was afraid of them—and afraid for them. My whole family is of faith in some way, but I’m not going to church anymore. Now, I’m someone who is staunchly settled in my beliefs (or lack thereof). I remain curious and open to being proven wrong, however.

A few months ago, I started a podcast to have open and honest conversations with people from all walks of life and various degrees of faith. I wondered if my preconceived notions might be debunked or simply reconfirmed. During one conversation, I was reminded of a mystical experience I had years ago.

I was in my early 20s. A friend I’d grown up with had passed away at 18 from a heart problem nobody knew about. She had just given birth—her baby was a month old. She was walking around the baby’s crib and dropped to the floor. At that time, my friend had braids—a young Black woman with braids. Fast-forward a little bit, just a few years later, and I’m staying at their house, talking to her young daughter. She’s pointing to a photo of her mother, saying, “That’s Mama.” It’s hard to describe, but my friend’s daughter had never been shown a photo of her mother with braids. She’d only seen photos with short hair—a very different look to a 3-year-old. I said, “Wait, who is that?” and she said again, “That’s Mama!” So that was a surprise. Then, for as long as I live, I’ll never forget what happened next: As I was leaving and closing the front door, I looked up at the stairs, and my friend was there. With her braids. Looking down at me.

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She wasn’t fully flesh, but she was there. I got in the car and didn’t say a word to anybody. First of all, I was thinking with my critical eye, I had to ask if maybe it was mind games. Was it my brain wanting that? I want to put it out there that it could be that. But the thing is…if wasn’t my mind, then I saw what I actually saw.

So that’s an interesting moment, right? My religious life is over…but then I see that? Part of me thinks my friend must see her daughter and be with her, looking the way she did when she passed. And her daughter must have seen her mother—that’s why she knew it was her mother in the photo. I now think it is as simple as energy of a person and they’re not necessarily done. Yes, they’re somewhere else. Their vessel was for 80 years, or 18 years in some unfortunate cases, but their spirit lives on. They’re not walking around with us. But they’re doing something—or moving things out of the way.

And maybe that’s God? Maybe it’s a culmination of spirits past and present?

I say this because that wasn’t my only unexplained moment. My mother’s mother, Mrs. Ida Mae Butler, passed when I was young. I haven’t attended funerals since seeing a teenager’s open casket traumatized me, so I stayed at the family house during the ceremony. While I was there, the windows in my grandmother’s room started to shake violently. There was no wind that I could see, and no other windows shook. Needless to say, I sat outside for the remainder of the morning. I don’t believe for one second that my grandmother was trying to scare me. But I do think she may have been trying to tell me something, or let herself be known.

Even at 42, reconciling these two events as an atheist—moments I experienced and images I saw with my own eyes—is confounding. They alone are not enough to convince me to change what I believe to be true, but they are part of what keeps me curious and open-minded.

And thus I suspect that my journey of Demystifying Faith will be a long-term, yet worthwhile, trek.


For more, check out Arlan Hamilton’s podcast, Demystifying Faith.