One Foot in Hell? I Don’t Think So.

A Love Letter to Those Raised on Fear

I was raised Catholic. The real-deal kind—elementary, middle school, high school, 8 years of college. Uniforms, saints, statues, the smell of incense so thick it clung to your hair after Mass. I learned early about Heaven and Hell. About salvation and damnation. About fear disguised as faith.

And somewhere in that mix, I learned to question the God they gave me.

Recently, I came across a quote that stirred up something old—and something fierce:

“Even if you are on the brink of damnation, even if you have one foot in Hell… if you say the Rosary devoutly every day… you will be saved.”— St. Louis de Montfort

It stopped me cold.

Not because I don’t love the Rosary—I do. Not because I doubt the power of prayer—I know it intimately. But because of that word. Damnation.

That idea still lingers like an echo in the bones of so many of us. That we are broken. That we are wrong. That we are always one misstep away from eternal suffering unless we perform the right rituals in the right way, or else…

But here’s the thing.

That’s not the voice of God. That’s the voice of fear.

And I don’t bow to fear anymore.

Let’s Get Honest for a Moment

Fear has long been the leash used to keep people in line—especially in religious institutions. It’s effective, sure. Tell someone they’ll burn in Hell if they don’t comply, and you’ve got them.

Not out of love. But out of terror.

But terror does not lead to transformation. It leads to trauma.

So many of us were taught to view God through a punitive lens. As a cosmic judge tallying up our sins, waiting for us to fall.

But I have come to know something deeper. Something older than doctrine and louder than dogma:

God is not fear. God is not shame. God is not hellfire. God is Presence. God is Breath. God is Unfathomable, unconditional, luminous love.

So What About the Rosary?

Do I still pray it? Yes. But not because I fear damnation. I pray it because I remember. I remember the sacred rhythm of devotion.I remember the soft power of repetition. I remember that prayer is a doorway to presence—not a key to unlock some heavenly scoreboard.

When I say the Rosary now, it’s not to be saved. It’s to come home to my Self. To still the noise. To root into something ancient that lives beyond fear.

If You’ve Ever Felt Afraid of God—You’re Not Alone

If you were raised on fear, shame, guilt, or threats of Hell...If your body still flinches at the sound of certain scriptures...If you left the church not because you lost faith, but because your soul couldn’t breathe there—I see you.

You are not damned. You were never damned. And any God that demands fear is not the God worth worshiping.

This Is the Shift We Were Born For

We are the ones reclaiming the sacred from the ruins. The ones who still love Mary, but don’t fear Hell. The ones who light candles not for salvation, but for stillness. The ones who trust that the Divine is big enough to meet us beyond the lines of old theology.

So yes, I’ll pray. Yes, I’ll love. But don’t ever tell me I have one foot in Hell—because I’ve already walked through it, and I’m still here, bathed in grace.