I originally posted this on Factnet.org several years ago. Please pardon the grammar, as I left it largely intact.
Parents joined in ’74, I was born in ’75
2 years old:told my grandpa that when he got saved, he would not drink beer anymore or need to wear his glasses. Horrified the grandparents, heh.
3 years old:
got ‘saved.’ Was the happiest day of my life at the time. Ran around in the yard celebrating barefoot till I stepped on a thorn. Ouch, damned satan! I have very vague memories of the glory barn in this era.
5 years old:
Went to stay at the Nei’s house while my mom had a baby. I was so excited too have a new brother or sister. When I came home to see the new baby, I found out it ‘went to be with Jesus.’ The baby was kicking 2 hours b/f birth and was born strangled by umbilical cord
6 years old:
started 1st grade at public school with ear infections in both ears. I’d had these for 2 years, and my ears would constantly ‘run.’
I took a handkerchief to school and wiped them when no one looked. The teacher caught me once and sent me to the nurse. Somehow they believed that it wasn’t too bad when I told them that I wasn’t sick (because I was healed, but it just hadn’t manifested itself yet, but I didn’t explain that to the noob teacher.
At school, several times an hour, I’d close my eyes and repent. I wasn’t always sure I had sinned, but I was super paranoid about dying w.o repenting for last sin sinned and therefore going to hell. My teacher asked me what I was doing once, and I told her the truth.
For instance, I knew that if I picked my nose, since my mom had told me not too, and since ‘Honor thy father and mother….’ that this was a sin.
I was about as guilt ridden as a kid as anyone could be IMO
General note. Since about age 3 had horrible vivid nightmares about the demons and demonic forces the Freeman talked about. I was scared to death. I have never had happy dreams since, and most are scary. I’ve done some research and found that this is not too uncommon, so I’m not really blaming the church/HEF here.
A girl on the schoolbus said ‘f*ck.’ I had never heard the word before, so I asked my dad what it meant. I got whipped for asking and was told to repent.
It was about this time that I got an ‘S’ for satisfactory on my report card. I ws scolded for not getting an S+. This pattern continued for any A-‘s and especially for B+’s.
9 years old: I was heartbroken that I wasn’t allowed to play on my 3rd grade basketball team. I was the 2nd best player in my class (knowing from gym/recess), but was not allowed to be unequally yoked with unbelievers.
This is when I considered telling on my parents to the authorities (about my ears, still running/infectious as ever, hearing pretty bad too).
Had I known at the time that my grandparents would have gotten custody, I would have turned them in so that I could play basketball. I was just a scared 3rd grader at the time so I never followed through.
However, this was the changing point. I ‘knew’ that it was okay to play basketball just like I ‘knew’ that 2+2=4. Logic was kicking in and I slowly realized how illogical my parents beliefs were, but this was the infancy of that.