My Story
Before
I was born and raised going to meetings. I grew up in a very loving home and my parents did the best they knew to do for my brother and I. They trusted and respected the workers, so I did too, completely. Growing up, we had workers come for supper and to stay the night. We would listen to them talk about “end times” or answer questions we had. It was often a little scary and I had nightmares about missing Jesus’ return and going to hell. I thought the workers were like angels, they were perfect, and I didn’t know workers ever made mistakes. I knew not to talk about movies or “worldly things” around them, and I could only wear skirts. I professed when I was 12 at convention….read more at: