Into every story must come a hero or two. Or three. My first was Scott, a fellow struggling writer. His lawyerly mind cut through the irrelevent to name the religious oppression that bound me; he dismantled suppositions and rebuilt logically. He gave me words to articulate my way out. September 10, 1982, I divorced. For my act of disobedience, I was kicked out of Calvary Temple Church in Seattle.

Bruce Larson, Ray Moore, and Rusty Palmer at Seattle's Univ. Pres. Church were my next three heroes. They re-introduced me to God--who did NOT demand submission to the demands of anyone.

I rented a house in Bellevue, WA. And while the road ahead was lumpy, it was my road. That made all the difference.

Free to be me, I wrote and published my first book.


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