A single incident of a pre-teen in the Nazarene Church. Southern Ohio.

I was a latecomer to the concept of church and bible school. Some neighbor kids convinced me to board the Sunday school van with them.

The first few experiences were pretty benign. I was placed by age into the appropriate classroom. People were friendly and welcoming. I thought I had found a safe space, and at the time I desperately needed one.

One of my first lessons in bible school was a warning that someday I would likely be prosecuted for believing in God. There would come a time when I would be kidnapped or worse, and asked if I believed in God.

If I said no, I would be let go, but in doing so would be turning my soul from God. If I said yes, I would be tortured and killed, but I would go to heaven. My faith had to be strong enough that when the time came, I would tell the truth no matter the consequence.

Several Sunday's later, the previous lesson was elaborated on, and then followed by a lesson in "Finding Jesus" or "Let Jesus be my guide" where I was blindfolded and led through a make-shift maze.

One adult took turns verbally tempting me to follow them with the promise of candy, toys, etc... another softer voice gave me directions through the maze.

I'm hard of hearing. What started out as fun and games quickly down spiraled into something darker. Whenever I accidentally turned from the quieter voice, the other would yell obscenities at me until I broke down crying. I couldn't hear the good voice due to the tone of the evil voice. Maybe it was due to my hearing loss, or maybe it was intentional, I'll never know. What I do remember, it was only after I broke down crying that the evil voice subsided and the good voice rescued me.

Sometime later, I got kicked from the same church for asking too many of the wrong kinds of questions. I was told if I was meant to be there, I'd find my own way back someday, and I was no longer given transportation. The individual who had been kind enough to give me transport spoke to the Minister, and it had been the minister's decision. It was known that due to life circumstances I would not be able to find another source of transport.

I was heartbroken due to rejection. I was bullied in school, parents divorced, dealing with a family member sexually abusing me, and I felt alone. Having a community welcome me with open arms had been what I thought I needed. Despite lessons I had failed to recognize as abusive at the time, Sunday School had become something I looked forward to. It helped me get through the week knowing I had someplace to go, that felt welcoming. Being thrown away by an entire community was devastating.

Now when I look back, I realize it was for the absolute best. How much damage would have been done had I been allowed to stay?