Starting at the beginning (sort of)

It all started with a nervous breakdown. Mine. Well, it started with God saying, "Let there be..." but I don't think I want to go back that far. But maybe a little further back then the NB. So...
I was raised in the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Reorganized Mormons, one friend called us. OK, not Brigham Young Mormons, but rather the Joseph Smith III kind. The Book of Mormon being the main commonality. So there were stories of the Nephites and Lamanites, and the struggle between good and evil, and it was all so, well..., mythical. But it was also very Gnostic. That is, we had the secret truth, and everybody else was wrong. God loved us more than others, because we accepted the Truth.
I guess it was about the time I was 7 (what, 1965?) that the Jehovah Witnesses started stopping by every so often, asking Mom if she wanted help understanding the Bible. She was raised German Reformed by parents who valued right thinking, done dispassionately. Yeah, the Chozen Frozen. She went to a Kathryn Kuhlman crusade in '45 at the age of 19, and experienced a "strangely warmed heart". She also put a $5 bill in the offering, and when her father found out he forbade her to ever "...dabble in that nonsense again!" She left home shortly after that, moving out to Denver to start her new life on her terms. That's where she met Dad, and being a dutiful wife of the '50's, converted to his religion.
So twenty years after her "new birth" experience, she had to admit that what she was hearing taught at church was neither what she remembered being taught as a child, nor did it resonate with that almost forgotten part of her soul that had come alive at that crusade many years ago. But she also understood that what the Witnesses were spouting wasn't any more right. She became aware of a spiritual hunger, one that wouldn't go away.
A co-worker invited Mom and Dad to a Bible study in her home. Well, the lady said it was a Bible study. In fact, it was a group of pentecostals looking to suck in more unsuspecting souls into their dellusion. (OK, that's tongue in cheek. Read Wesley's sermon on Enthusiasm.) So by the time I was 11, I had become (gasp!) a Pentecostal. One of those who believed that we had the secret Truth. (Didn't I write that earlier???) Only this time we had proof. We SPOKE IN TONGUES. See? That proved it.
Fastforward from age 11 to age 26. Failed marriage. Life adrift. New wife. Got fired from job because I couldn't keep my office organized. (undiagnosed ADD.) A great deal of self-loathing and little sense of self-worth. Depression?? Oh, yeah. Which was when I finally let God get hold of me at a very basic level. And after helping get on my feet, He spoke to me.