" Early on I sense a profound disconnect between what I was supposed to believe and what I actually believed. At home, my parents encouraged questions, and when they didn't know the answers, they said so. But in Sunday school, my precocious inquiries met with furrowed brows, cleared throats, and the not-too-subtle suggestion that good Christians don't ask such impertinent things. At home, we talked about a world that was broken and beautiful, just waiting for us to make our mark on it. At my Pentecostal elementary school, I learned that demons hid around every corner, Bill Clinton was the antichrist (I sobbed when I found out that my grandfather had voted for Clinton for president), and the rest of the world lived in "darkness." My church told me a woman's place was in the some; in my home, dad told me I could be anything I wanted to be. My Christian books said following my heart would only lead me astray; mom taught me to listen to my gut. "
― Rachel Held Evans , Wholehearted Faith