My grandfather and two uncles were Protestant ministers. Although I did not join their church, I attended services and entered into the church's activities.
There came a period of time in my life when I became very unhappy over nearly every facet of my existence. Wherever I looked for answers to problems, I seemed to run into a blank wall. I felt trapped.
I prayed often, and one day the thought occurred to me to seek outside help. At that time the church I attended had a bright, zealous, young pastor; I sought his advice. For several months he counseled me frequently, and he always assured me that I would have God's help. However, each meeting consisted mostly of his questions about my activities, relationships, and youthful experiences. I grew discouraged and terminated these meetings. I learned later that he had been taking a course in psychology, and I concluded that that had been his reason for questioning me in such a manner.
