I stood in the doorway of the office offering up the conclusion of what could only be described as a rant.
"All these people want to pray for me!" I spat. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
My colleague sat quietly for a moment, letting the tirade about faith, religion, and the afterlife hang between us. Her academic title may be Clinical Director of the Department of Psychiatry but she is exalted in the department as the woman who solves problems – all kinds of problems apparently.
"Faith," she paused thoughtfully, "is complicated."
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