1.32 The Fear Of Hell

We held her as she sobbed.

"It is ok beloved, you can lay it all down and leave it behind."

"I CAN'T! I CAN'T! I CAN'T!" she began to scream.

Over and over and over again. Now her screams echoed throughout.

"Shhhhhh... be still beloved... it is ok... please try to be quieter. It is critical that we get at least a few more through the Boundary before the Authorities attack. It is ok, you are safe and you are loved."

We began to breathe very deeply and slowly, holding our breath for a few moments between each breath as we held her and she trembled and cried. Sheer panic terror gripped her face.

"I am so sorry God. I am so sorry God. I am so sorry God," she now began whispering over and over again.

"It is ok beloved. You are safe and you are loved. We love you. God loves you. More than you could ever know. You are safe and you are deeply loved."

We deepened and slowed our breath even further, and continued to reassure her. Gradually, her heartbeat and breath began to slow in response to ours, her panic attack subsided, and after 10 or 15 minutes, she lay there limp and silent in our arms.

"We are so sorry beloved, what did they do to you? Are you able to speak?"

The story that followed broke our heart.

"I was raised in a very fundamental religious Story. The people around me called themselves Christians, but their words, actions, and way of being collided with everything I could imagine about one who they said was the living embodiment of the Love of God. They told us that we were dirty. That we were bad. That we were sinners. That we deserved to go to hell. And that it was only by affirming their propositions, saying their prayer of salvation, subordinating our spiritual and intellectual will to their authority, and paying them money that we could be saved from eternal conscious torment in a lake of fire that would continuously sear our skin off in the pure darkness, with it eternally growing back so that it could be burned off again.

When I was 8 or 9 years old, they put on a play at my school..."

... to be continued.

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