Finding Myself.

Finding Myself I attended mass every Saturday night with my parents,and somethimes on Sunday mornings, and listened to the priest talk of a God who stood above me, an unreachable source of strength. This God loved me, but sinners should beware of his wrath. It was a confusing message to me, one that didn't allow any slack for my humanness. Why would God make me fallible yet expect perfection? Maybe there were people who …

…I was feeling rather confident. Each person shared what their solo communion with Jesus had meant to them. When it came time for me to share, I considered the beliefs already thrown out on the table. The talk of hell and damnation was the foremost in my mind and it was with some reluctance I shared, "I don't believe in hell. The only hell I believe exists is that which we create in our minds."