I grew up in an environment where the doctrine was absolute, unquestionable, and faith tightly bound by stringent rules.

The church was not just a place of worship; it was a courtroom, and legalism was the law. There were doctrines about everything—how to dress, how to speak, how to make one’s hair, how to think, even how to feel. And there was no room for deviation.

To be righteous was to obey without question. To be holy was to dress in a certain unsavoury way. To be heaven-bound was to submit without hesitation. And to be accepted was to conform, even when it made no sense.

I didn’t question it at first. Why would I? It was all I knew. The fear of hellfire, the warnings about worldly corruption, the demonization of “other church,” and the insistence that even watching the “devil’s box” was iniquitous kept me in check. For a while.

But then, the questions started.

As I grew older and started interacting with “the others,” I began to wonder:

>> Why were we told that salvation was by grace but made to feel like it depended on denominational doctrine?

>> Why did righteousness seem to have more to do with outward appearances than inner transformation?

>> Why was every challenge to tradition met with hostility instead of discussion?

>> Why beat around the bush with scriptures to silence the curious when sincere questions are asked?

When I started asking these questions, I realised something: the same people who preached about “living by the truth” were deeply uncomfortable when that truth was scrutinised. The same leaders who encouraged spiritual growth saw independent thought as rebellion.

My heart, heavy with questions answered, I slowly pulled out of the fold. And when I did, I was labeled stubborn, inexperienced, naive, deceived. Some said I was backsliding. Others prayed for me to “return.” But what was I returning to? A home that silenced curiosity? A doctrine that punished critical thinking? A dogma that encouraged schisms?

I couldn’t go back.

Questioning everything I was taught wasn’t welcomed with open arms, but it set me free. I learned that faith and fear are not the same. I learned that obedience without understanding is just blind submission, not conviction. I learned that true spiritual growth requires the courage to challenge, unlearn, and rebuild.

I’m still challenging, still unlearning, and still rebuilding my faith one revelation at a time. And the journey has been enlightening.

Maybe you’ve been there too. Maybe you’ve felt the tension between belief and doubt, or have wondered what the difference between tradition and truth is.

If so, let me tell you this: your questions do not make you faithless. Your search for truth does not make you lost. In fact, it may be the very thing that leads you to the cross.

Stay curious.

PS. They’ve loosened up now. Rules are being relaxed, and change embraced. And it’s such a delight to see.

~