My childhood was a bit different than most people's childhoods. I grew up in a small community that lay peacefully among the bluffs of Waco, Texas. This community began back in New York City by a young couple, aspiring to love on people and bring people to know God. This community expanded and grew, moved to Colorado and then finally landed in Waco, Texas.
This community had wonderful aspects of it; homeschooling, home birth, gardening, crafts, community lifestyle, an annual craft fair that is still going to this day, and a lot of other really good things.
My parents joined this group when I was around 7 years old. So I pretty much have no memory before this, besides a few small episodes of kindergarten and a teeny bit of first grade. I loved life, living on a farm. We dressed in modest dresses, had hair to our waists (or however long it grew! For me, I had hair about 7" above my ankles!), the men wore pants and modest shirts, marriages lasted forever, weddings were huge events, and so on. The sense of community was strong. When someone was sick, or had just had a baby, we gathered round them and brought them meals, cleaned their homes and watched their kids. We prayed for them. We drew close to each other. It was very tight knit and to be honest, I loved it. If I could have it all today, I would.
So why don't you, you might ask? It's a painful story to share. My heart aches and tears well up as I think back on all the good times I had there. But God wanted me somewhere else and that path was not in that community.
I hesitate to share much, because it's an unreal experience I had. Please understand as you read, that while this may sound outrageous and beyond understanding, I speak this with the upmost care and love. I have no hatred towards the people I grew up with. I have no bitter feelings. I feel sad for what has happened and I look forward to the day, Lord willing, that I get to them again, whether it's here on earth or in heaven.
At the age of 17, my parents got a call that a couple of the elders of the church wanted to meet with them. There had been some discussions already with my Dad, but I was young, and my Dad didn't want to drag me into the issues going on. When they got home from the meeting, their faces were red and puffy from crying. They sat me down to explain that we were no longer allowed to go to meetings or do any church activities. There would be no more Sunday Church, no more Tuesday night prayer meetings, no babysitting, or birthday parties, no having people over, or going to choir or orchestra, nothing. Everything was taken away and the only thing we were "allowed" to attend was their Friday night visitors meeting. They told us it might be a week, maybe two, while my parents "prayed through" to the heart of God and changed some things.
The issue my Dad had that caused all this was one that concerned a debatable topic in the Christian world; non-violence and discipleship. The beliefs of this community were that no one was supposed to defend themselves in any way, or go to war, or fight. My Dad's question was this, "So if someone were to break into my home and threaten/hurt my wife and daughter, I'm not allowed to defend them, and try to take the intruder down?" The answer was a clear and resounding, "No." Then there were issues with discipleship. The way the community interpreted how discipleship should be implemented was that everyone should "run things by the brothers" and "pray through" to "hear the voice of God" if what we were feeling didn't align with what the brothers felt. For instance (as an example) if you wanted to go on a vacation with your family, you didn't just plan it, pack up and go. You had to submit your idea to the brothers, get approval, pray and pray, and pray some more. If they didn't approve it and you still went, you'd be told you're not submitted to God and the leadership.
So my Dad was questioning all this and feeling like what they were asking and doing wasn't of God. So his "praying through" never really worked, because the true Voice of God was speaking to him and he knew in his heart that the way the brothers were wanting him to act wasn't of God. So every time he'd talk with the brothers, he would come back and things wouldn't be different.
A year passed by while all this was going on. I became secluded, quiet, depressed and frustrated. I began to not eat as much and my health deteriorated. I was having constant migraine headaches and I dropped from being about 125 lbs to around 109. I was tired and here I was, now 18 years old and didn't have friends, or a life beyond the four walls of my home.
My Dad finally left the church and my Mom and I continued going. I'm not sure why we kept going, really. I know it makes no sense. It's really hard to explain. You'd have to be there to know what I am talking about. There was a sense of power this community had and we had come under this power and we thought that every word that came from their mouth was from God and if we didn't obey and believe, we would die and go to hell. I wanted to be baptized and was working on my "open, honest, vulnerable" relationship with our pastor and his wife. I always felt obligated to come up with something to tell them that I'd failed in, because I knew that if I didn't, they'd question me and wonder what I was hiding. I hadn't always been the most honest person in my life. I'm not proud of it. I was one of those kids that wanted to come up with something to say, just to have something to say. I felt insecure, and like I wouldn't be accepted if I wasn't like everyone else. And I knew the elders of the church knew that, as I was often the center of debates on who was telling the truth and who wasn't. I often "lost" on the debate, because other kids knew they could get by with lying and tacking their lies on me. It caused me to be angry and frustrated, because I would often tell the truth, but then still get punished because no one believed me. Thank Jesus He got a hold of my heart and I changed, and now I walk in His truth, and tell the truth to others too. :)
So the first year passed by, then a second year, then a third. Nothing changed. Nothing. I was now almost 20 years old. I had started working for a company called Consumer Research Group, training Dell employees (sort of being a secret shopper, but helping them learn to build the perfect, customer specified, computer). Every time we would begin a training class, the trainers (including me) would gather in a chat room to discuss the class and what we would be doing. All this was done online, and the trainers could do it from the comfort of their own home.
To say I was innocent in all this would be an understatement, as I had no clue about predators, stalkers, and the like. I mean, I had a small inkling into the matter, but I never imagined someone would try to get to me, and hurt me. But I "met" this man who was also a trainer, in this chat room. Most of us had exchanged emails and corresponded outside of the chat room. So I didn't give it a fleeting thought about giving this man my email address and talking with him. Now, I knew that talking with this man was against my parents rules and ultimately the church rules. Girls and boys in the church weren't supposed to talk, and if they did, an adult, baptized member was supposed to be there, listening to every word. But I was nearly 20 years old and I felt entitled to do what I wanted. I was struggling inside, on whether I was even going to stay in the church, or not. So breaking the rules was the least of my concerns. But I wasn't good at hiding any of this, so of course, my mom discovered the emails and that was the end of that!
Because of my contact with the man, I had a choice to meet with the brothers, repent and who knows what else (probably not even be allowed to go to Friday night meetings), or leave. I decided to leave. I didn't know what life entailed for me. I felt alone, out cold and lost. I had never dated, never held hands with a boy, never kissed, never been alone with a guy. I had never had a real job, (like working with other people and being under a general manager) I had never lived alone, I really hadn't done much with my life that would benefit me in the outside world. All I knew was gardening, sewing, homeschooling, no dating, no struggle, a world of practical perfection. I knew that I didn't like not being allowed around my friends, or to be apart of the community, but it was all I knew. So going out into the world really triggered a lot of emotions, frustration, anger and fear. I left my parents home and went to live with a family that had already left the community a few years before. I nestled in and tried to get into a rhythm, but this family had joined another Christian community that was pretty strict and had lots of rules. At this point in my life, I wasn't interested in rules and regulations. I wanted to discover myself, and find out who the real Courtney Irvine (my maiden name) was. I wanted to explore, figure out life, go to college, and get some experience in the world. It was all so new and exciting to me. So after a couple of short months of living with this family, something happened where I was being pressured to join their church (along with a few other complications that I prefer to not talk about), I left their home and went back home to be with my parents. There I had a choice too. I either needed to get a job, and try to make things work in town (or at their home if I needed) or move somewhere that would make me happy.
Continuation coming up....
This is me and my Dad, working in the garden.
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