The story how I lost my faith is how my mother found hers… My mother raised me christian. She was dependent on men & Jesus. And learned from her parents early too, that she should remove her guilt through fasting reason.
Through prayer, she recited at her bedside till the wee hours of the morning. This went on for most of my child hood. I went into playful questioning though still followed blindly like most children are conditioned to. However, when personal spirituality became too boring she started *using* again. She was addicted to the tithing flashing neon “Jeasus Saves” fire and brimstone T.V. evangelists. Especially Dr. Scott & Melissa Scott. — Around the age of 15 my brother and I were at home one day. My mother speed home from work, she needed to give her whole pay check to Melissa Scott. That curly haired lady scribbling on the white board, jumping from different translations to prove that “We need money badly”. No, “GOD needs this money! What are you doing sitting there?!” My mother busted through the door, started reading revelations to my brother and I , chanting like an incantation. Our hearts quickened. “Are you okay mother?”….
She looked at us with pupils dilated, chest pounding madness in her shaky voice. She was “using” again.
She wanted us to come into an open field to pray till the end of the world. The apocalypse. We reluctantly said no. Despite our conditioning. We had to watch her drive off. Knowing she was in a field somewhere for hours– With no clue where.
She was found hands clasped on a rotting telephone pole. Connected with God himself. Not even the cops ( who could turn invisible) could find her. She was schizophrenic. They were using her.
And my faith withered then on.