I thought I would find the answer by taking a break in my studies and going to Bible school for a year. Though I disagreed with many of the things they taught, I was too mentally exhausted to bother about it. I felt compelled to seek help; and, as far as I could see, the Faith preachers were the only ones that confidently knew what was the will of God in everyday life. They also seemed to have more knowledge and power in the spiritual battle than anyone else. This was why I went to them for help.
I got mixed feelings when I started at the Bible school. The devotion and faith in the future inspired me; yet, at the same time, I realised that they adhered to a message which I had difficulty in accepting. In the beginning I reacted to these matters and noticed when a passage of Scripture was interpreted with a certain bias and made to fit what they wanted it to mean instead of what it actually said. But I thought I would be able to sort it out and leave the parts that were only speculations and not clearly anchored in the Bible.
It was very difficult to get some of the teaching to harmonise with the Bible as a whole, but I simply did not have the strength to protest. I had come to get help and wanted to have whatever was good. I wanted to know God’s will in my life, and recover my peace and joy. The areas where I disagreed I would simply leave alone.
But after a certain length of time, my critical faculties began to weaken and I began to accept more and more of the message without considering it thoroughly for myself. I was constantly tormented by a lack of peace. When I devoted myself to praise and worship-singing and went out testifying or keeping active in some other way, the restlessness and the terrible feeling — as though something was constantly burning inside my chest and stomach — would disappear, but only temporarily. As soon as I tried to relax, it would come back again as badly as ever. So I tried to keep myself constantly active and I always had to have some project or other in operation. I was beginning to fear that I would never get relief from this awful condition. Though I never seriously considered suicide, I did begin to wish that either Jesus would come back soon or else that I would die and go to heaven. I was wondering how long I would be able to endure this terrible feeling inside.
