When I moved to New York, looking for a church felt like being dropped in the middle of Hunger Games. Left to fend for yourself in a new place with tons of distractions competing for your time, you hoped the odds would be in your favor.
HELL. As a child growing up there weren’t too many words that could incite so much fear into my little body. I had never seen the place before, but the grown-ups at church made sure I knew what it looked like. A burning lake of fire. Gnashing of teeth. Yelling. Torture. Thirst. Devil with a pitchfork…optional.