Author: Beth

So I couldn’t decide in which order to write my story so I hope what I say will make sense. Sorry, it took so long to write more life is crazy!

My first memories of church were sleeping under the old wooden pews. My mother took us to church when we were sick and when we were well. She took us when we were on E and didn’t know if we would make it back home. (In her defense, we were never stranded going or coming from church.) I also remember crying and praying until I felt sick, trying so hard to speak in tongues so I wouldn’t go to hell. I was so fearful I wouldn’t make it and the rapture was going to happen soon and we had better be ready and repenting and re-repenting every day.

My birthday always fell during family camp. The year I was turning 8 everyone kept telling me “wouldn’t it be neat if you got the holy ghost at camp on your birthday.” The Sunday night before my 8th birthday I prayed so hard and was told I had spoken in tongues. I believed it but now I question that experience. I was just a baby. I got baptized the following week.

I always felt like what I did was never good enough. I had/have such a low opinion of myself, but at the same time, I was learning to be an elitist. We were the “chosen” people. No one had the “truth” but us. We should feel so blessed.

The pastor at that time taught against random stuff, such as no shoulder pads for women (the men could wear them in their suits) but it was the 80s and 90s for goodness sake lol, no hair bows, no red shoes (really he didn’t like women wearing red at all), women must wear their hair up (if you wore it down you were “loose”), panty hose at all times. Those are some I remember I’m sure there were more.

That man also told my mom if she didn’t leave my dad for good he would turn her into child protective services. My mom did leave him but the pastor didn’t make sure we were safe, had food, have a place to live, check on us etc. He continually was very manipulative to my mother and sister. When my mom went in and told him we were leaving and going to another United Pentecostal Church he cursed her and said that she would never prosper spiritually, financially or prosper in life in general. My mom felt extremely guilty but we left anyway. I do not believe in curses but it messed with my mom’s head and she still struggles to this day.

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First of all, I’ve not done much writing so this should be interesting. I really think this will be therapeutic for me as well as helpful to others. Hopefully, something I say will make someone feel less alone in their journey.

I was raised United Pentecostal by my mother. My father was in and out of our lives and refused to become involved in the church. From birth to six we attended a church with a pastor that my mom considered to be a father figure in her life. From what I’m told he was a kind man. When I was 6ish he retired and a different pastor was voted in. This pastor was not as loving and kind, he was extremely strict. My mom decided to move us to a neighboring town to attend the church school there ( I think it was to get away from the new pastor). During that time my dad came back in our lives and that church was extremely cult like ( more on that later). We stayed for about a year and then moved back to the other church.

When I was about 9 my mom had had enough and we moved to another neighboring town and attended what most considered in our area a liberal church. My mom didn’t like it, I was not accepted, but my sister thrived. The year I turned 12 we changed churches three times. By this time my sister had left home and it was just myself and mom. We ended up staying at the third church, my mom still attends there.

At the age of 17, I met the guy that I would marry. My mom was super negative about male attention, she believed all men would abuse us. It was not a good time and I wound up moving in with my sister and bro-in-law. They soon found out that I wasn’t “pure” and I was confused and wanted to do what I wanted so I moved in with my dad. I married my husband 2 1/2 months after my 18th birthday. The months leading up to my moving out of my mom’s house I had become very bitter. While living with my dad I attended a church a few times but my heart wasn’t in it.

I lost my job and found out I was pregnant so we moved in with my mother. I felt “convicted” and started attending church with her again. Thus began my adult life with the “church.”

I’m not sure yet in what order I will write my story, but man do I have a story to tell. As for the present, we have found a non-denominational church to attend. The pastor as well as about 1/2 the congregation is ex-UPCI/ALJC. It has been nice to have people that understand where we are at. On the other hand, we are starting over with friends and that has been extremely difficult.

Stay tuned….

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My story pt. 1

Introducing myself