Going Back Continued

When we were taken out of meetings and put on what I refer to as "visitors status", where we only went to Friday night meetings on an invitation only basis, one of the things that was required was frequent meetings with the leaders of the church. There were several that my dad went to quite often when he was still attending.

When all of this began in 2005, we had just had a church switcharoo where the groups were told about 12 different small groups they could be apart of, and advised to pray about which one they were supposed to go to. We had prayed and joined a group. That is when things sort of went down hill. My Dad had been talking with our original pastor for years about his differences in beliefs, but I think that pastor was willing to keep working with him and helping him "see the light" of "truth." When we joined this other group, my Dad shared with them what his struggles were and his differences of beliefs, and I think it sorta freaked them out. So within a few weeks, we were "disassociated" from the church and stuck on visitors status. I know I am back tracking here, but I want to lay the foundation for where I am going next with my narrative. When the disassociation began, they told my family and me that it would be a "week, maybe two" that we would be out of meetings and participation of church activities. Those weeks turned into months and those months turned into years.

When my Dad left, the leaders of the church started meeting with my Mom on a frequent basis and talking to her on the phone. It kept being reiterated to her that she needed to have the "faith of Sister Andy." We honestly had no clue what this phrase was supposed to mean, and my Mom would ask them what that meant. There was a sweet lady in the church whose name was Andy and she had left her family and husband to be apart of this church. But we didn't know this at the time. No one told us a thing. So when they would say this, my Mom would be confused and they would tell her to search after the heart of God and then she would know what that meant. To this day, we still don't know what "have the faith of Sister Andy" was really supposed to mean. The only thing we can gather from it is that they wanted her to leave her husband to do what the brothers (pastors/elders) of the church wanted. Being married to an imposter (even though in reality, my Dad was following God a lot closer than we were at the time) was inexcusable and leaving him was her only option. But my Mom decided that being married to her husband was more important than the leaders of the church wishes. She kept questioning why they'd want her to leave him since, in the Bible, it speaks about how a believer wife should stay married to her unbeliever husband, and in quietness and meekness, win over her unbeliever. (1st Corinthians 7:13) But that didn't seem to matter to them and I wasn't in the meetings with her to know what was said, but I doubt they had scriptural back up for what they were asking her to do. It was trust them, do what they say, believe they're hearing the Voice of God, and pray until you hear the same voice they're hearing, or leave.

She chose to leave. It was heartbreaking for me at the time. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I felt my life spinning out of control and like I was loosing my best friend, my Mom!

I struggled along for a few weeks, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I was spending a lot of time with my pastors wife and sharing my heart with her. I was also invited to go to some meetings that were in town with the city church that was run by the lead pastor's son. I went to about 3 of those meetings, I think. I kept feeling more and more uncomfortable. I knew it didn't set right with me when they asked my Mom to make a choice between my Dad and the church. That's just wrong and no real Christian would ask such a thing. Or would they? I was so confused! I couldn't figure out what I believed, what I wanted or what I was supposed to do. So I put on a brave act of still pressing forward and working towards baptism. I kept thinking I'd eventually find peace. Maybe it was just because I no longer had my family in the church that was making me so uncomfortable, I thought. I kept reasoning with myself. I kept asking myself questions and going over facts of my situation.

Then one day, I made a call to my pastors wife and asked if I could come over for a bit to talk. She invited me over and I told her a lot of my struggles. I didn't know what to think or say, really. I just poured my heart out to her. I told her I was struggling with what was going on with my Mom and that I was hurting inside that she left. She tried to encourage me, but her words just spun me further into confusion and unrest. She said, "Maybe you should move into town, get away from your parents and start new. Get a job. You won't be able to talk to your parents much longer anyways, if you want to be apart of the church."

I went home and cried. I didn't know what to do. So the next day I called my other pastors wife and asked if I could set up a meeting with her and her husband. I told her I felt uncomfortable with something that was said to me, and that I needed to discuss it with them. I didn't feel comfortable talking to the pastors wife that made the original comment and I was already having struggles with the pastor and the way he was treating my mother, and myself. I had been accused of sharing private things that happened in Sunday church meetings with my Dad and that I was opening up the church to imposters. What was comical about that accusation is that I wasn't even attending Sunday services, so how on earth was I the informant? I didn't even know what was going on. My own friends treated me like a little kid; as if I didn't know my ABCs and acted like I was stupid. I had my closest friend tell me that she "couldn't explain the Sunday meeting to me" because, "You just won't understand it." Really? I had gone to meetings for years and years before being taken out and I understood them just fine. So to tell me that I wouldn't understand what was spoken was outrageous, hurtful and ridiculous. It's been a process to overcome the hurt, to forgive her and move on from it. But forgiveness is the only way to live a free life in Jesus. If you hold onto bitterness, unforgiveness and hatred, you'll only sink yourself into a miry pit of depression and hurt. You're only hurting yourself, not the person who originally inflicted the hurt on you.

Then another accusation that was hurled at me was that my Dad owned a gun and was threatening to shoot someone. That was also outrageous. My Dad owned a BB gun, but the only thing he ever shot was blades of grass. He couldn't even shoot a grasshopper. He's the type that picks up scorpions and takes them outside if he finds one in his home. He doesn't kill anything, let alone have a 9mm gun, threatening to shoot people. I would tell them that their assumptions were wrong, but all that would do was bring on more accusations and things I needed to "pray through about" so I could see the "swamp of lies" I was wallowing in. They just wouldn't believe me! I never could figure out why they thought I was the informant of what went on in Sunday meetings when I didn't even go to Sunday meetings.

So I asked for a meeting and she and her husband scheduled a meeting with me at their home the next evening. I drove up to their house and my heart sank. It wasn't just them there. I had specifically asked for just the two of them to be there. But they had, unbeknownst to me, invited the other pastor and his wife to attend the meeting also. I was not prepared to confront this pastor with the issues I had with him, or his wife. I felt the trust was broken. I called my Mom and told her I just wanted to leave right then and there; that I felt like they had broken the trust I had with them and that dealing with this was too much for me. She encouraged me to just go in, talk with them and see what they had to say.

I walked through the door and they were all smiles. I wasn't in the mood for playing games. In my mind, the games were over. No more deception, no more lies, no more manipulation was going to happen on their part towards me. I had had it. The pastor I had the issue with half smirked at me and said, "I hope you don't mind that we crashed your party." All that did was break the trust even further. So I sat down and they asked me what I wanted to talk about. I spilled it all. The dam of fakeness and trying to be a people pleaser broke. I no longer cared what they thought of me, and trying to make them happy with me. I was determined to be honest for once and share exactly how I felt and how I didn't like being accused of lies that I didn't tell, how I didn't like them accusing my Dad of things that they had no truth to base it off of. I told them that I didn't appreciate being accused of doing things that I didn't do to just get a response out of me. My heart was to serve God and I didn't feel that requiring me to leave my parents and never talk to them again was what God required. I told them that I was not going to do that; that I was going to live with my parents and serve them as their daughter.

They asked me if I wanted to leave the church and I told them I didn't know. They told me to get back with them and to talk with my cousin, Bessie, who I had been spending a lot of time with too. She was leading the city church with her husband and their friends. I called Bessie that night and talked with her about things. All through the night and into early morning, I prayed. I lay on my bedroom floor, crying, asking God what He wanted of me. My heart ached. The tears wouldn't stop. I loved my family, my friends, the community, the lifestyle, the homeschooling, the homebirths and values (the good ones that is!). I felt lost. What on earth was I going to do if I left? Where would I go? What would God have for me? I was scared. Tired. Frustrated. Even a bit angry.  But it was clear as the morning hours drifted in that it was time to leave. God reminded me how He told Lot's wife to never look back. He was requiring the same of me. "Don't look back. Leave. Now. I have plans for you."

So around 5 am, I picked up the phone and called Bessie. I told her my decision.

"I am leaving the church, Bessie. I won't be coming back. I love you. But God told me to leave." I told her.

She told me she knew this was coming and that she felt all night that I was going to call with this piece of news. She began to tell me how God gave her a vision of a young man leaving God and how he died a few weeks later and that she would pray that something that drastic wouldn't happen to me, but that I would be riddled with sickness, or something would happen to show me the error of my ways and how I had left God. I didn't know what to say to her words besides, "Those words aren't from God. God spoke to me to leave and so I'm leaving." We hung up and I haven't spoken to her since.
Hang on tight...my journey in words will continue soon :)