# The Backyard Cottage

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*“Never step into the backyard cottage alone.”*

*“What’s there?”*

*“Granny lives there. But something’s… off with her. If she sees anything out of place, it sets her off. And she can hurt you. Real bad.”*

*“No way. Grandmas don’t hurt their grandkids. You’re just freaking me out.”*

*“Have you met her?”*

*“No… it’s my first time visiting, remember?”*

*“Then listen to me.”*

*“No way!”*

*“Fine. But there’s something you should know… about last year.”*

*“What happened last year?”*

*“Remember Sara?… She was like you. Didn’t listen to us.”*

*“Okay… I’m listening now.”*

*“She’s dead.”*

*“What?! What happened to her?”*

*“No one knows for sure. But they found her body outside the cottage…”*

*“That’s… that’s awful. But how can a grandma hurt her own grandchild?”*

*“We don’t ask that anymore. We just follow the rules.”*

*“Rules?”*

*“Every night, we leave her a fruit. We never miss. If we ever do… she will come into the house.”*

*“That’s… strange.”*

*“One of the grown-ups handles it. But kids are not supposed to go near that place. Got it?”*

*“…Got it.”*

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That backyard cottage isn’t a creepy family story.  
It’s the **image of God I inherited — one I didn’t want.**

I grew up with the idea of an **angry, greedy God** who lived in a corner of my life like that “*granny in the cottage*.”

A God who got angry if I didn’t perform the rituals as told.  
A God who demanded offerings like fruits, flowers, or money.

The message was clear: **Follow the rules. Or you’ll be hurt.**

But as I grew older, I couldn’t suppress the questions:

*How could a God who embodies all that is good and holy be so short‑tempered — offended just because I skipped a ritual?*

*How could the One who created the entire universe be pleased by something as small as my offering of a fruit?*

Later in life, when I found myself in places that worshipped different Gods with different rituals, that lingering doubt grew louder:

*Would a just God punish me for not following a ritual, while turning a blind eye to those who never knew such rituals existed?*

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Maybe it was God…  
Maybe it was the echo of my questions reaching out into the universe…

One day, I stumbled upon a famous book — *A Brief History of Time* by Stephen Hawking. That book became the antidote to my confusion about God.

As I turned its pages, I felt the insignificance of our world against the unfathomable vastness of the universe, and I caught glimpses of the mysteries behind its creation and its intricate workings.

With that realization, the image of God in my mind transcended to another level. The petty notions I had— the rituals, the appeasement — all dissolved.

Along the way, I met others who saw God as I did, and every conversation with them strengthened my confidence in my understanding of God.

The God who **knows my true intentions**.  
Because the universe speaks through the subconscious.

Everything else belongs in *the backyard cottage*.

![](https://cdn.hashnode.com/res/hashnode/image/upload/v1754172832899/f465b71e-268a-4771-bf50-3b59eab0181d.png align="center")

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## **Author’s Note**

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