I remember growing up around a church and just not getting it. I don't understand the prayer, knowing that God is watching, and only getting your morality from the bible.

You know what I felt? Nothing. Bored. The blood pooling in my head as I draped myself off the bed in contemplation.

There is plenty that only makes sense in retrospect if you add a coefficient of hate and cynicism for others. I accept God's love because I cannot accept that I am like these "people". I love God because I hate the "sin" that surrounds them. If everything else about me is good, then maybe I could be accepted among the good people despite my skin color.

Framed with the proper context of contempt, I would have had a much easier time with the whole thing rather than trying to make a true believer out of me.