I was 30 and Terrified to Question God

Finding the courage to follow my personal spiritual path

Photo by Ulkar - license purchased by the author

Believing in God was called a “born again Christian” in my neck of the woods, but I was born into it. Growing up in a southern Christian household meant that God grew up right alongside me. I learned my ABC’s and John 3:16 simultaneously.

“For God so loved the world that He- el em in oh pee!”

My life revolved around the church. I was in church on Sunday morning, Sunday evening, Wednesday evening, Friday evening, and Saturdays for volunteer clean-up.

I walked door-to-door spreading the Word of God. After all, everyone who wasn’t born again was going to Hell. It was worth interrupting someone’s morning to keep them from a pit of fire, right?

“Oh, Lord. More holy rollers, Bertha! Tell them to go away!”

I never let myself linger on doubts during the day. Doubts were trials that I needed to overcome. They were lies the devil…