Ever since I was very young, my life has been filled with villainous plots, daring escapes, and heroic feats. It’s all in my head, of course; I am a champion daydreamer. Most girls go through a horse-loving phase early in life, but not me: I didn’t want a horse. I wanted a flying unicorn.

We enrolled in The Advanced Training Institute (ATI) when I was fourteen. I soon discovered that flying unicorns were, in general, frowned upon. In fact, all magic, fairy tales, and fantasy were discouraged if not outright banned. These stories glorified sorcery and witchcraft, which was likened to rebellion… and rebellion pushed you right out from under that umbrella of protection. Satan’s darts were just waiting for the opportunity.

Instead, ATI encouraged an imagination firmly grounded in reality. God’s seven principles governed the universe. Every action had traceable consequence. Biographies were good. Devotionals were better. The Bible, especially the one with the special Matthew 5-7 footnotes by Bill Gothard himself, was God’s best. Fiction was allowed of course, but only if it had a clear – nay, trumpeting – Christian message. Light fiction and fantasy were wastes of time, if not downright dangerous to spiritual health.

To an extent, this change in focus was good for me. I was writing stories by this time, and even the wildest flights of fancy need some elements of reality. And it’s not a bad thing for a fantasy geek to develop a taste for (good) biographies and nonfiction. Besides all that, it would take a very heavy legalism to suppress a healthy imagination, especially since my parents encouraged my creativity. But although I didn’t stop daydreaming or writing, I did start bringing my stories into line with “God’s principles.”

Female characters had to be under male authority at all times. “Good” characters had to fall in love according to proper courtship rituals. There was absolutely no magic or anything mystical unless God was clearly given the credit. Disobedience always ended in tragedy, obedience in blessing. Unsurprisingly, the resulting stories were less than compelling. Not even Bible stories follow all those rules, although Gothard tried his best with his interpretations of Abigail and Tamar.

I was so anxious not to communicate “false teachings” that I learned to fence in my imagination with The Institute in Basic Life Principles’ teachings. It was years later that I realized it had affected not only my storytelling, but my ability to relate to my Creator. I assumed that He too, preferred hard reality to flights of fancy. Did the choir sing soaring music that made me think of dancing in a cool, green forest? I should avoid that music. Did the sermon outline doctrine according to passages in Romans, citing Greek and Hebrew word studies and providing steps to follow this doctrine? I must have been edified by such good worship!

Obviously, as someone who dreamed of flying unicorns, I struggled to find God on such a dry, intellectual plane.

Gradually, I got far enough away from ATI thinking to realize that life didn’t always operate according to the Seven Basic Principles. I returned to Narnia, Middle Earth, fairy tales, and Harry Potter. These stories had color and life, and I could see glimpses of God in them.

Then my husband told me about something he’d heard: that one way to “meet God” was to imagine yourself with Him in a peaceful place. At first I resisted. I didn’t dare put God in a world of my own imagining. That was spiritually dangerous, even New Age. But eventually I gave in, and gave it a try.

The experience was revealing. I finally could reach out and touch God… and I found out that I didn’t want to. I didn’t want Him to get close to me. I knew this about myself already, but by skipping “devotionals” and “praying” and going straight to images and emotions, I understood my own heart much more clearly.

These days, I let my imagination wander beyond the fence, contemplating characters and events that don’t always fit in tidy categories. I meet God sometimes with written prayers, sometimes in music, and sometimes in a cool, green forest that exists only in my head. I can imagine reaching out and touching His hand, showing how much my spirit has healed.

I always knew that God gave me my imagination.

I’m just grateful that I finally know how to accept that gift.