Reprinted by permission

I grew up in Nazarene churches. My Dad was an ordained elder in the church when I was born. My brother and I were in church every time the doors were open ~ twice on Sundays, Wednesday night prayer meetings, and a week of revival services each Spring and Fall. We were told in no uncertain terms that we were to behave at all times, because someone might be watching us. We were to set a good example for the church members. After all, if the pastor’s kids could do something, that must mean that it was okay for everyone else. This put a lot of pressure on us to be “perfect.”

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