You guys, I can't stop crying. You have to understand, every time a child dies as a result of their religiously abusive childhood--I have flashbacks. I couldn't eat this morning--my stomach was too tight.

Sure, maybe I should just stop writing about these children. I should stop looking at the pain. But...I can't. I mean, I survived my religiously abusive childhood but there are children RIGHT NOW who are not surviving theirs. How can I look away from that?

I spend the majority of my life looking normal and holding it all together. But then the evil just rises up like an overwhelming tsunami and there's no way to hold it back. So I raise my tiny life-raft of writing against this tsunami and hope somehow, somewhere these words will bring someone safely home.

But the evil is so real and so big and frightening. The first time I spoke out against Mike & Debi Pearl, my hands shook. And again last night, I tossed and turned. Today, I keep breaking down in tears.

These are the moments when I wonder how God could let this happen. Why, God, do you let children's screams go unheard? I really want to know. And then I think: no, it's not God's fault. This is OUR fault. This is what WE'VE done to this world. This is what happens when WE don't listen to the crying.

Worse, sometimes I think this is what religion has done to our world. Religion has twisted the goodness and love of God and made it crass and violent.

I've had glimpses of a good God. I've had moments of feeling His unconditional love for me. On days like this, I hang onto that for dear life. And I can onto the memories of you---the ones who survived with me, the ones who write now with grace and compassion. I remember you and I fling out my tiny life raft of words.

Because I can't face this tsunami alone.