Rise And Shine And give God the glory glory, rise and shine and give God the Glory Glory. Rise and shine and give God the Glory Glory children of… the… Lord.

These are the words from a song my Mother would sing to me and my two sisters to wake us up for church every Sunday morning .

Her beautiful voice still echos in the back of my mind. She would walk in the room and open the blinds to let the sunlight in to help us to wake up a little faster and she would sing until we did. We always dreaded going, and like most kids we wanted to stay home and play.

Our dresses were always ironed and ready for us to put on when we got up. She combed and braided our ponytails, and with ribbons to match our dresses off to Church we went. My dad did not believe in going to church, but never had a problem with her taking us.

As I got older I kept this religious tradition of going to church on Sundays and when I had kids of my own, I did the same thing with my two boys. It’s kinda funny how we sometimes follow in our parents footsteps.

I thought I was doing the right thing, and that by going to church every Sunday it would somehow keep me from going to Hell. I was terrified of the thought of my soul burning for eternity.

Something started to change for me over time. The more I went the more I felt like something was missing, and my view of church started changing.

Every Sunday the same message of condemnation and judgement was being preached. The messages that came across were always about putting others before yourself, and if that meant you went through pain so that others would benefit, then that was good because you were being like Jesus.

The Pastors were not preaching about self-love and taking care of your mental health. Instead, it was taught to put others before yourself and to give until you can’t give anymore. It was taught to sacrifice yourself so that others can heal.

I sat and listened to messages where pastors would chastise other members of the church openly so that everyone knew who did something wrong or displeasing to both God and to the Pastor. There were also messages where the Pastor would indirectly talk to a member across the pulpit and only that person knew that he was talking about them.

I bounced around from church to church looking for something to be different. But the same message was being taught no matter where I went. I sat quietly and listened to messages about how  women should not preach because they cause trouble. Women were told to be quiet and listen to the man and were not to be heard.

You were taught to give to the church, and if you didn’t,  you were robbing God. Really? Robbing God? Talk about condemnation and control. We were taught to give even if it meant sacrificing a bill and that God would provide if you trust him.

If you did anything other than what was being taught you were rebelling and needed to repent.

I  went to a church where we had to do a mirror exercise every Sunday and also throughout the week. The mirror exercise required you to look yourself in the mirror, and tell yourself what a mess you were. It required you to tell yourself how your soul was ugly and needed to be fixed.

I feared being judged or talked about by the pastor, so I sat quietly and believed every lie that was being fed to me. I sucked every lie down into my soul, just like a newborn being bottle fed warm milk. I trusted the pastor and thought he knew best and that I was growing spiritually.

It wasn’t until I started to notice what was going on around me that my journey to freedom began.

I started to notice the clicks, the people who stuck together, and recognized the others that were overlooked. I was in the category of those that was being overlooked. The funny thing is, is that I was on the leadership team. I was over a ministry and  I was still invisible. Every leader had a key to get in to the church except me.

My kids were shunned and had no friends. The pastors kids choose who they wanted to hang with and the other kids did not feel welcomed. Is this how Church is supposed to be? Is this the love they talk about that is there?

I knew who had money and who didn’t. The ones with the money had designer clothes and purses and always seemed to want to out dress each other. Church was becoming more of a fashion show than a house of worship and healing.

I remember thinking to myself, that people that did not go to church are more friendly and less judgmental.

I started asking myself what I was doing there, and why I was putting myself and my kids through this insanity. I began to awake from the slumber I was in for years and I stopped going so frequently.

I was terrified, and I thought that every Sunday I missed, God was becoming more angrier with me and I was one step closer to going to hell. But the truth is, the more I stayed away, the more I could feel the chains being broken off of my mind.

The more I learned about finding peace in mediation, the more I wanted to meditate even though I was taught meditation was evil. The church teaches against mediation, but they are the very ones who participate in paganisitc holidays, and idol worship.

I came to a place within myself where I didn’t care anymore what people thought about me not being in church every Sunday. I didn’t care what they thought about me leaving altogether. I stopped fearing going to hell and realized I don’t have to go to church to be spiritual. I made my decision, and in the year 2016 I left.

God, Source, Higher Power, Universe, whatever you choose to say, is very loving and kind and caring. I believe that whatever path you choose is the right path for you. No one can say what is right or wrong because we all come from different backgrounds beliefs and cultures.

After years of being away from the Church, I am still on my journey to truth. Where it will lead me I don’t know. But I can say I am no longer blinded by the smoke screen of religion.