Sent in by an agnosto-ette I’ve never joined an online community or posted to a forum before. I am a good lurker and have been lurking for several months. But this is important enough for me to come out and make my first post…so here goes! I was raised as a Conservative Baptist and accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior at age 7. I would have done it earlier—not because I believed I was a sinner but for a more innocent motivation. I felt sorry for our pastor. At the end of every sermon, with a soft, droning and pleading voice he would ask for someone, anyone, to just “raise their hand”. I was more than happy to comply and raised my hand as often as I could while my mother calmly kept pulling my hand back down. Eventually I reached the ‘age of accountability’, my raised hand was deemed (finally!) acceptable, I was saved and promptly baptized. I did love Jesus (for Yes, Jesus loves me) and so it was. My young life was a happy one. My happy home life merged seamlessly with m

Sent in by Alexandra I just wanted to say how wonderful I think this site is, and all others akin to it. It's great that there is a place for those who need support, who might be suffering from traumatic effects caused by spiritual abuse (whether done purposefully or unwittingly). While I was still in the Christian/religious mind-set, I couldn't have made it past a few sentences on this site as it would've meant that I was entertaining evil. (I had to abstain from all appearances of evil, ya know!? And then there was dividing the word rightly, and having the Holy Spirit, and all that. Well, back then I thought I was well qualified in discerning what was and wasn't evil, in the sight of "my God".) A bit about my lengthy mental illness (Christian neurosis): I was born into a very poor, backwoods, uneducated family — immediate and extended — on both sides. So, you see, I knew true evil (ignorance) from the get-go, and was made to "believe" in supersti

Sent in by Kristina I had the kind of faith that was coined as "childlike." My mom (a Christian) would remark on it often, saying she wished she had my kind of faith. That is funny, considering where I am now. I started going to church at the age of 10. I actually enjoyed it, and I used to beg my parents to go. Why? I don't know. I didn't even really have a relationship with God. Then all of a sudden things got very serious. I made a vow to read the entire Bible (almost succeeded too). I was only 11 then. From what I'd read about God, I had gathered he was a pretty angry guy, so I would pray EVERY single night without fail. I was afraid that if I didn't pray, God would get very angry at me and cause bad things to happen. My prayers were "answered" on a few occasions. So, I thought, "Hey, this works," and continued to pray. I don't remember ever questioning my faith. I didn't have the questions that kids usually have, like where di

Sent in by Jennifer I'm not real sure how to start this. I will apologize now for any grammatical or spelling errors that occur. My grandparents raised me to be the model Christian. They had me in church from the time I was 15 months old all the way up to the time I left home. I was involved in all the youth groups, but I never felt comfortable enough to tell others how to get "saved". I felt that it was a personal choice for a person to make. I started noticing all the hypocrisy in the church when I was around 12 years old. Our church broke up because of some things that were said. It never got back to normal. We were one of the largest churches in that town and then we went to having a total of maybe 20 members. I had a member of that church criticize me for, of all things, having yellow teeth. That was the start of me really not liking the people in that church. By the time I was 17, I had stopped going to church altogether. It just wasn't that important

Sent in by John Where do I begin? I guess at the beginning... My mother raised me in a Christian environment. We went to church, and I heard all the scare-stories of Satan and hell, and being so young and impressionable (this was around 3rd grade), I saw other children crying and scared at the altar, so I decided I needed to be 'saved' also. I think I was saved around 3 times, and even as so young a child I remember wondering what all the hoop-la was about, because although I was sincere, I felt absolutely nothing. I remember praying to God many times for hours and hours, and bawling my head off, because I didn't understand why God wasn't talking back to me. No 'Christian' can tell me my heart wasn't sincere or I wasn't praying hard enough, or the rest of the garbage they fed me over the years. I developed issues at a young age because I felt I was somehow unworthy of God and I didn't understand why. We lived our lives as Christians, where anything t

Sent in by Kelsie I grappled for years over whether or not I was living the "Christian life" or if I was even saved at all! I grew up in a highly aristocratic Baptist church that seemed busy teaching the perils of alcohol while allowing members of the Sunday School class to underage drink with rare abandon. From there, the myth of the "Christian life" just began unraveling. I am finishing up a degree in history on a Christian university campus (I was a Christian for most of my time here), where the "believers" around me are caught up in an endless charade of saying and PREACHING one thing while doing the exact opposite. I've had several run-ins with angry, self-righteous "believers" who've thrown the "well you're not any better than us" card at me, and I've also been told that it is only a matter of time before I "lapse back." Christians themselves, however, have been largely successful in keeping me away from

Sent in by J.G. I grew up in a Southern Baptist home. Always fearing the "fire and brimstone" I was warned of, I - as you can imagine a young scared child would do - accepted Christ as my personal savior, albeit I hadn't the entire idea of what that meant. So I grew up calling myself a Christian cuz I felt like I had to because of pressure to go to church or to be a good Christian from church and family. Now I have left the Christian faith and begin my spiritual journey fresh, if there is a spiritual journey to be had. My problem is, though, that I suffer from extreme guilt and confusion. I kinda miss the idea of talking to an unseen protector, but I can't logically believe it. Is there anyone out there who can relate to my "withdrawals" out of the addiction of Jesus Freakiness? Texas Joined at 8 Left at 20 Was: I was a Baptist Now: Agnostic/Mystic Converted because: I was "led to Christ" by my fundamentalist father. De-converted because: I couldn

Sent in by Warin Well, my name is Warin and I've been raised Christian from birth. Every Sunday we went to church, we learned about how God is in heaven and he's always watching us, protecting us, and loving us. And some day when we die, we go to a golden city of light. But if you're bad, you go to hell and burn for all eternity. It made me feel good as a young child about the Heaven aspect of religion, but the hell part always left me a bit uneasy. I wondered why a God who loves his children would send the naughty ones to a bit of fire and brimstone. There were also other things that made me uneasy, like how Abraham had to kill his son. The Bible always taught that no man was to take another’s life, but God ordered him to do just that. Now I've always been a bright young man, and it didn't take long for me to see that the Bible has many gaps in logic. When I entered junior high, I took an interest in the rest of the world, and saw that while we here in Amer

Sent in by Susan I was raised Catholic. My whole family still believes in the Church. My dad is even a "Knight of Columbus." As a child, I was afraid there was no God. I was always doubting. But since my parents believed, I assumed there must be a god, even though I couldn't see him. I sometimes felt uplifted at church. When I was in high school, I had a boyfriend who was a born-again Christian. I liked his friends and the church activities. So I tried to buy into it. It's actually very simple: You just follow the rules. After a while, I realized the rules were stupid. I stopped going and went to college. At college, I continued to be scared of dying. What if there was no God? No Heaven? That was very scary to me. After a year at college, my mother died of cancer. I was angry at God and turned away from him. I said I was an atheist because god would not let things like that happen to my mom. This went on for awhile. I would say now, that I didn't have a true athe

Sent in by Ellis I grew up in a Christian home and at a young age always believed in God and Jesus. I always loved the Bible stories that they told at Sunday school and loved to pray. I was always on and off from church-going and its activities, but gradually faded away from it once I was close to graduating from Elementary school. Prior to graduation, I went on some church retreats and attended Bible studies from time to time, but none of it really meant anything to me. No one even bothered to explain why we believed what we did. Anyway, when I entered high school, I completely quit going to church and claimed to be an atheist telling these Christians that they were brainwashed. It wasn't until 2004 that I was "convicted of my sins" through the ten commandments. I returned to my old church and for the rest of that year, I went on to preach, witness and spread the "good news" through many different outlets such as audio recordings and classes. Unfortunately, non

Sent in by Yolanda I have decided to leave Christianity, alone. As you can guess that doesn't sit to well with my family. I was on the phone today talking to my cousin, who was basically trying to convince me that I have made some sort of mistake. She is telling me that I have a spirit of confusion because I let some books change the way I used to think. She all but cussed me out and called me a demon. She did nothing but yell and scream at me. I told her, "well no one has ever seen GOD so how can you apply attributes of any kind to something you have never seen?" Then she replies, "Well, have you seen your brain? Have you seen your heart? Have you seen your kidney? Well, it's the same thing." OK, correct me if I am wrong, but this seems a bit absurd, to the say the least. I could have sworn it had already been proven that humans have a brain, heart, etc. But anyway, as you can see, this isn't going over to well with the church and family. I told h

sent in by twincats I was born into a Lutheran family, an only child. I grew up in a Southern California congregation with Midwestern values. My first memory of church is probably around age four, sitting in the pew in awe and wonder because God was up there, speaking to us. I believed that the pastor was actually God who’d come down from heaven. My mother didn’t work and since I was the only child, she had plenty of time to coach me about sitting quietly in church and listening to the word of God and who else but God is going to give His word? Time went on, I started going to Sunday school and learned about God and Jesus and the pastor, who really did the preaching. It was a letdown, sure, but everyone else seemed okay with it, so I went with the flow. My first problem with the faith was around age 6 when they wanted us to bring our friends to Sunday school and church with us. We lived in a neighborhood where we, the Lutherans, were the only Protestants on the block. All of my little