In the chapter entitled Am I Crazy? of my forthcoming book – The House of Jezebel: Fulfilling Destiny in Spite of Your Upbringing, I share the following memories of my religious [ithoughts_tooltip_glossary-glossary glossary-id=”227″]upbringing[/ithoughts_tooltip_glossary-glossary].
My Jezebel raised me according to the Southern Baptist doctrine. Highly active in the church, my earliest memory is reciting The Lord’s Prayer as my bedtime prayer along the blessing often recited before eating: “Thank you Lord for the food we are about to receive to nourish the body for Christ’s sake. Amen!”
At our family church, my Jezebel served as the choir director, Sunday school teacher, and Vacation Bible Study coordinator, which meant we rarely missed church, with our services being held on 2nd and 4th Sundays. For the 1st and 3rd Sundays, my Jezebel played for other Baptist churches in the area while 5th Sundays was our “day of rest” – unless of course someone’s [ithoughts_tooltip_glossary-glossary glossary-id=”215″]revival[/ithoughts_tooltip_glossary-glossary] was starting up.
By my teenage years, church lost its flavor. I only went to church when I wanted to get out of the house and when I did go, I never experienced any type of divine encounter. It was more of me going out of guilt or fear as my Jezebel had convinced me that I’d soon be struck down by God if I didn’t go (and go every week).