Idolatry came in many different forms. Money. Ego. Love. Lust. Drugs.
Shawn had plenty. Crutches he used to get him through the day.
He used to have one God. In three persons. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Now he had whiskey, ego and Somas.
Jack Daniels, coke and an attitude.
It changed.
He didn't really like returning to the silence of sacred spaces. Places where his mind had nothing to do but think.
Freed from distractions he had to confront the things that he replaced God with weren't working.
And they were no longer enough.
No matter how many things he desperately tried to fill that hole, it remained a gaping abyss.
A blackness at his centre. Longing for something else. For solace. Peace. Comfort.
And he was sick of them.
He wanted to let them go.
Go back to what he started with.