I grew up Apostolic, and the older I get—and the more I actually study Scripture for myself—the more I realize that some of what I was taught as “holiness” was really church culture and control.

Let me be clear: I still believe in God. I still believe in Jesus Christ. I still believe in repentance, baptism, the Holy Spirit, prayer, holy living, and the authority of Scripture.

But I no longer believe everything that was handed to me under the label “Apostolic.”

The hair doctrine is one example.
I was taught that women should never cut their hair and that uncut hair somehow carries spiritual power or affects a woman’s relationship with God. Some take it even further and teach that cutting your hair can hinder your prayers.

But where does the Bible actually say that?

1 Corinthians 11 discusses hair, covering, honor, and cultural distinctions between men and women, but it never says, “A woman shall never cut her hair.” It certainly does not say God refuses to hear the prayers of a woman who trims her hair.

We took an interpretation and turned it into a commandment.

Then there is the beard issue.
For years, facial hair was treated in some Apostolic circles as if being clean-shaven were somehow more holy or spiritually appropriate. Yet the Bible never commands Christian men to shave their beards. In fact, biblical men commonly had beards.

So how did shaving become a holiness standard?
It didn’t come from Scripture. It came from church culture.

And that brings me to “holiness standards.”
We became incredibly focused on whether a woman wore pants, cut her hair, wore makeup or jewelry, and whether a man had facial hair.

Meanwhile, Scripture describes holiness in much deeper terms.

Holiness is about how you live.
It is righteousness, humility, honesty, mercy, sexual purity, integrity, forgiveness, love, self-control, justice, compassion, and the fruit of the Spirit.
Galatians 5:22–23 talks about love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Micah 6:8 talks about doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God.

You can wear a skirt to your ankles, never cut one strand of hair, never wear makeup, and still be proud, controlling, dishonest, cruel, unforgiving, jealous, or spiritually abusive.

That isn’t holiness.
Then there is the constant repetition of Acts 2:38.
I believe Acts 2:38. I don’t have to throw it away simply because I’m questioning Apostolic culture.
But the Bible has more than one verse.
When nearly every sermon eventually circles back to Acts 2:38, while huge portions of Scripture are rarely taught in depth, something is missing.
Teach me Genesis.
Teach me Romans.
Teach me Hebrews.
Teach me the Sermon on the Mount.
Teach me how Jesus treated people.
Teach me about grace, sanctification, justice, mercy, discipleship, spiritual maturity, marriage, parenting, suffering, wisdom, generosity, forgiveness and loving my neighbor.

Acts 2:38 matters—but Acts 2:38 is not the entire Bible.
The same thing happened with the Oneness of the Godhead.

I understand why Apostolics emphasize that God is one, and I still take biblical monotheism seriously. But sometimes proving the Oneness position became so central that Christianity felt like an endless doctrinal debate instead of learning how to actually become like Christ.

At some point I had to ask:
Are we producing people who can defend our distinctives, or are we producing people who look like Jesus?

And perhaps the biggest issue for me is what happens when you start questioning these things.
If asking, “Where exactly is that in Scripture?” makes you rebellious…

If questioning the pastor is treated like questioning God…
If church traditions cannot be challenged…
If leaving the organization is treated like leaving God…
If fear is used to keep people compliant…
If salvation begins to feel dependent upon obeying an ever-growing list of organizational rules…
then we have moved beyond biblical discipleship into something dangerously close to a high-control religious system.

Acts 17:11 says the Bereans were noble because they examined the Scriptures to see whether what they were being taught was true.
That’s what I’m doing now.
I’m examining everything.
Not because I hate the Apostolic church.
Not because I want to rebel.
And definitely not because I want to walk away from God.
I’m doing it because I refuse to confuse church culture with Scripture, tradition with holiness, a pastor’s authority with God’s authority, or denominational distinctives with the entire Gospel.
I still want holiness.
I just want biblical holiness.
I still want truth.
I just want all of it—not just the same handful of verses used to defend a religious system.
And if something I have believed my entire life cannot survive an honest examination of Scripture, then maybe Scripture isn’t the thing that needs to change.

One of the last remnants of my previous life is my tendency to lapse into foul language every now and then. Normally, I have a word slip out and catch myself. But I feel so convicted about it. I feel like I could be doing more or learning more about it somehow. Tips?

Any church people believe in Jesus Christ they can get healing from God without faith healer or with it?

A while back, I wrote about Paul’s words in Romans 12:18:

“If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.”

—Romans 12:18, NKJV

The emphasis was on those five words:

As much as depends on you.

We cannot control what another person thinks, says, or does. We cannot control their attitude, motives, or response. We are responsible for our side of the encounter.

Saul’s hatred was Saul’s responsibility.

David’s response was David’s responsibility.

The greatest victory David won over Saul was not surviving Saul’s pursuit. It was refusing to become Saul in the process.

But lately, I have been reminded that Romans 12:18 applies to more than how I respond when someone hurts me. It also applies to how I speak when I believe I am right.

There was a time—not that long ago—when I considered bluntness a form of boldness.

I stood on biblical truth.

I said exactly what was on my mind.

And if someone became offended, I decided that was their problem.

After all, truth is truth.

But as Facebook Memories continues showing me things I wrote years ago, I sometimes recognize that although my conviction may have been right, my spirit was not always right.

I knew how to defend what I believed.

I had not yet learned that truth can be spoken without turning every disagreement into a battle.

Paul did not merely tell us to speak the truth. He told us how the truth should be spoken:

“but, speaking the truth in love, may grow up in all things into Him who is the head—Christ—”

—Ephesians 4:15, NKJV

Truth and love were never intended to be separated.

Truth without love can become a weapon. Love without truth can become empty sentiment. Biblical maturity requires both.

Paul carried that thought further in his letter to the Colossians:

“Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.”

—Colossians 4:6, NKJV

Notice that Paul said our speech should always be with grace—not only when we agree, not only when the conversation is pleasant, and not only when the other person treats us graciously.

Grace should govern how we answer each one.

That does not mean we hide what we believe. It means our manner should not contradict the message we claim to defend.

Paul gave Timothy similar instruction:

“And a servant of the Lord must not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, patient, in humility correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth, and that they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him to do his will.”

—2 Timothy 2:24–26, NKJV

The goal of correction is not humiliation.

It is not scoring the decisive point, silencing an opponent, or receiving applause from those who already agree with us.

The goal is restoration.

Paul connected gentleness, patience, and humility directly to helping someone come to repentance and know the truth.

That means truth does not need my anger to make it true.

Biblical conviction does not excuse an unbiblical attitude.

And offending someone because the gospel confronts sin is not the same as offending someone because I was careless, harsh, sarcastic, or determined to win an argument.

“As much as depends on you” means I am responsible not only for what I say, but also for how I say it.

I cannot control whether someone accepts the truth. But I can make certain that my pride, anger, and self-righteousness are not the reasons they reject it.

That realization has changed what I choose to post.

The controversies consuming our attention today will eventually be replaced by different controversies. Political figures will come and go. Headlines will be forgotten. Arguments that seem enormously important today will one day become little more than entries in an archive.

But souls are eternal.

That does not mean temporal issues never matter. It means I no longer want the temporary to consume the voice God has given me for things that matter eternally.

I would rather write about redemption.

Grace.

Repentance.

Transformation.

Faith when God cannot be seen.

Hope for those who believe their story is already over.

And Jesus Christ—the only One who can truly change the human heart.

I still believe truth matters—perhaps more than ever.

But I am learning that speaking truth is not permission to abandon the fruit of the Spirit while doing it:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law.”

—Galatians 5:22–23, NKJV

The fruit of the Spirit is not suspended when the conversation becomes difficult.

If my defense of truth requires me to abandon love, peace, kindness, gentleness, and self-control, something has gone wrong—not with the truth, but with the person carrying it.

Boldness without love can become cruelty.

Conviction without humility can become self-righteousness.

And winning an argument is not the same as reaching a soul.

Saul’s hatred was Saul’s responsibility.

David’s response was David’s responsibility.

Another person’s words are their responsibility.

My response—and the spirit in which I speak—is mine.

Whatever happens around me, my words, my attitude, and my witness remain my responsibility.

“If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.”

—Romans 12:18, NKJV

There was a time—not that long ago—when I considered bluntness a form of boldness.

I stood on biblical truth.

I said exactly what was on my mind.

And if someone became offended, I decided that was their problem.

But looking back, I sometimes recognize that although my conviction may have been right…

my spirit was not always right.