How Horror Helps Me Find God

I’m a bit of a horror junkie–or at least, I’m getting there. All my life, I’ve really enjoyed writing terrifying and slightly (maybe more than slightly) disturbing works of literature. I’ve gotten interested in some TV horror and Stephen King writing, and I don’t plan to stop there. Horror brings me joy. And, in a weird way, horror brings me Christ.

I was far from God when I read my very first Stephen King novel, The Shining. In fact, I’d actually quietly renounced my faith. But one late night, after having read about a dead woman in a hotel bathtub, I felt a little shaky. I didn’t mind it–it was all part of the horror experience that I so enjoyed, after all–but I needed something to bring me a little comfort. Almost as a joke, I reached for my Bible and old cross necklace. I thought it would be weirdly funny for the former Christian to “find religion” after reading a book. So I slept with my Bible that night. Even though I’d meant it in jest, I couldn’t deny that deep down, I felt a little safer.

I have since rediscovered my relationship with Jesus. Now, when I read or watch horror, I am reminded that the power of Christ lives in me. I’m reassured that the Lord has promised to keep me safe and be my refuge. No evil clown, no dead woman in a bathtub, no bloody ax murderer can harm me when I have Jesus. I consciously acknowledge these things, and I become overwhelmed with warm gratefulness. Thank you, Lord, I pray. Thank you for promising to protect me. I’m so glad I have you. I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with Him. And the further in love I fall, the more I want to cultivate my personal relationship with Christ.

After I finish the chapter, the episode, the movie, I turn on some worship music. The Lord takes it from there.


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