I grew up in a christian home, church, bible readings, family bible studies in the morning. It was commonplace, I grew up around it and I loved it. Jesus loved me. I loved Jesus and God. I was going to be a good girl for Jesus and do what I was told because I didn't want to go to hell, even though I knew I deserved it...I thought I deserved everything I got dished out to me.... I mean I did kill Jesus, and was a sinner because my father and mother sinned even before I was born, so I was bad even before I was born. I prayed and prayed to tell Jesus I was sorry that I killed him. It was all so wonderful and confusing and hellish and painful.