I’ve been a Christian for nearly 40 years. Most of the big sins have been chipped off my character: my tendency to pick the wrong friends, my tendency to judge people for things beyond their control, my desire for revenge, seething self-hatred, objectifying and reducing people to caricatures or tools. Mostly, these are gone, along with the hotheadedness that I used to think was “honesty.” Mostly. I get by most days by lighting candles and bowing towards the cross from afar as I rush past. I have tucked God into the corners of rooms beside my unfinished crochet projects and half-formed prayers. I dance the sacred reel of laundry and cooking and stories and diapers and stories and cuddles and prayers, always with an eye on…