"I can't say I believe things I don't believe."
"Have you tried?"
"Tried?"
"Have you ever asked God to help your unbelief?"
"No. I could only do that if I didn't believe in my unbelief."
"You mean if you didn't glory in it. Then it's simply your self-will and your pride. Self-will has been your besetting sin ever since you were a little baby crying for something you couldn't have. You kicked before you could talk.
"Goodness knows I've done everything I could to break you of it."
"Yes, Mamma darling."
She remembered. The faded green and grey curtains and the yellow birchwood furniture remembered. Mamma sat on the little chair at the foot of the big yellow bed. You knelt in her lap and played with the gold tassel while Mamma asked you to give up your will.
"I brought you up to care for God and for the truth."