I truly believed that I'd go to hell if I wore pants or shorts, cut or colored my hair, wore jewelry or went to movies. I truly believed that others who did the same were destined to hell.

I was raised in the Apostolic Faith Church. I learned every thow shalt not in the Bible and probably more. It wasn't until my father's illness that I dared to seek the minister's council. It was then I let loose of all my questions. Why couldn't my Mother wear a wedding ring? Why couldn't my Mother wear slacks?

A couple years before my father succumed to Alzheimers, we had a talk. I told him about a lady I'd met. She wore makeup, her hair was short, but she believed. I wondered why she would go to hell. It was then he told me. "...ours is not the only religion that will gain the kingdom of heaven..." I was shocked and relieved. I nearly collapsed from the weight of so many years of feeling confused. I wish I'd known this so many years ago. Every Sunday, since I was a babe in arms, I was in church. When I was old enough I sang solos every Sunday. I never knew... I never knew there were choices, other paths to heaven. I just knew my church was not for me.

After my meeting with my minister, I felt betrayed. I felt I'd been lied to. I started to believe that religion was more about ritual and control than about the love of God and the hereafter. But then I had to look at the congregation I grew up with, and I had to look at my parents. All of them lived as they believed and there was no hypocrisy. I know this. I witnessed this.

The minister was honest with me. I asked him why my Mother could suddenly wear capries after all these years? The Bible hadn't changed. And I asked why she could wear a watch and broch, but not a wedding band when the Bible speaks of the bride bejeweled. (Basically, the church had made an arbitrary decision. Dress is a matter of modesty.) I think that was when I left my church.

As the flood gates of questions opened, I found myself looking up and wondering when God was going to strike me down for questioning my minister. He told me that mode of dress is really about modesty and that the church made the decisions. Of course by then I'd figured it out. I knew the Bible hadn't changed and so for some announcement to come down that my mother could now where capries, I was like a bloodhound on the trail of a suspect.

We all know that politics and religion should not be discussed at work, but I did. I mentioned to a co-worker that I felt I could set up my own religion for what it's worth. She is Catholic and we had "come-to-Jesus discussion."

Sorry, I don't have any pictures to add to this hubpage, only my thoughts.  I guess I would like to pass on to everyone what my father finally shared with me. Your religion isn't the only religion.  I learned not to be afraid to ask questions of church elders.  I shared with our minister who intimidating it was week after week to sit in to congregation with the church elders scowling down on us ( I thought sure God was going to get me for that...).

Years later, at a memorial service in my old church, he told me; we've done away with preaching from the pulpit and have come down on congregation level.

 I attended a funeral two days ago.  The service was reverent and joyful--full of song. It reminded me of how much I missed coming together in song and prayer.  I think I'll try once again to find a place of worship. In the meantime, a walk along a trail, beach, or around the block is my church.  And I sing whenever and wherever.

God Bless