Bringing Clarity

I've haven't updated this blog in a while because I really have struggled to go back in my mind to those days where I had all my friends around me. But recently, I posted something on Twitter and gained a bit of backlash from someone, thinking I was talking about them, instead of understanding who/what I was talking about.

My past has impacted who I am and what I stand for and I doubt much will ever change in that realm. But I want to share just a bit, to see if I can bring some clarity to this situation once and for all.

I spent nearly 17 years of my life in a church that was secluded, community-like, with a little over a thousand people making up the whole of everyone I really knew. We went into town to get groceries, and shopped for cloth to make our own clothes and sometimes frequented a thrift store or two, and of course, book stores. But over all, we didn't communicate with the outside world besides those who came to the visitors center, and those who enjoyed the annual Thanksgiving Fair they have once a year.

I don't know how well I can explain the "rules and regulations" of this place. It's been 6 years since I was there, and 10 years since I was fully involved with the church. As I explained before, my Dad was "disassociated" from the church when I was about 16 years old because he didn't believe in complete non violence, (to extreme extents) and didn't believe that "running everything by the brothers" was necessary to live life. Here's a few examples, if we wanted to take a vacation, you had to talk to the brothers and explain every single thing you planned on doing and who you were planning on seeing and how long you'd be gone. If they didn't feel the Spirit of God in it and didn't believe that you were in line with the Word of God, they would tell you to "go pray again" until you "hear from God." I'm not talking about them disagreeing with you wanting to go to a strip club, I'm talking about simple things like, not thinking your children should be around their aunts and uncles or cousins, or whatever the case may be. You were never allowed to go to Six Flags or Disney Land. Entertainment of that sort was of the devil and not needed.

Another example, you didn't just "fall in love" with whoever you wanted. You weren't allowed to flirt, talk with or smile at the opposite gender. Now, that seems extreme and some would beg to differ from me who grew up in that church. But I have to say, different rules applied to different people. It was never the same for everyone. You never knew where you stood and sometimes you might just glance at a boy and you'd be called out for it and disciplined. Other times, like me, had "permission" to work with young men on a certain level and talk with them, because we all played instruments together for the Little Kids Choir. But beyond that, no relationship was allowed. When you wanted to get married, you had to talk to your parents and the elders of the church. The young woman would be asked to pray to see if she felt God leading her to marry someone. I honestly don't know what happened if someone felt to marry someone different than what the elders felt. I was never in that place so I didn't experience that.

Flowers at weddings needed to be minimal and simple. The bride didn't have bridesmaids or a bouquet. Her dress needed to be simple and near the end of my time there, they needed to be dyeable and reworn.

This stuff wasn't just suggestions of like, "Oh, let's be resourceful and see how cheap we can have a wedding for." It was mandated and if you didn't run everything by the brothers to make sure they approved, you ran the risk of being in trouble and possibly getting disassociated for rebellion.

While all this (and there is tons more I could share) seems outrageous, to me, I was fine with it. I loved it there. I sunk my life into these people and I never imagined I'd leave or have to leave. I liked wearing dresses. I loved my long hair. I didn't mind the way marriages worked. I loved the community and the gardening, homeschooling, home birth, and everything else about the life. I struggled through four years while my Dad was disassociated, before he finally left, to keep my head above water and wait for the day they'd accept me back. They said because of the "sins of my parents" I had to be sidelined. We never understood why. There was a family similar to ours that had a dad disassociated for similar things and yet he just stayed home while his family was fully involved. They would just say our situation was "unique" and "different." When we would ask what was unique, we were questioning authority and never got an answer.

The last year I was there, they would accuse me of being the one who was leaking information to outsiders about their Sunday church services (which were closed to the public and they had security around so no one could just walk in). Funny thing was, I wasn't in the church meetings and no one would tell me what was going on in them, so there was no way I could be leaking any information. Another weird thing they accused my dad of was having a 9mm gun in his glove compartment, and the only gun he ever owned was a BB gun and he wouldn't even shoot a grasshopper. He literally target practiced with grass blades. No joke. Near the end, I would have meetings with a couple of the elders of the church there was raised voices, and other types of verbal abuse I won't go into detail with here. At the time, I thought it was normal. It was all I had ever known. Nothing seemed strange to me. But I finally had to make a choice to leave or not.

I left my aunt, uncle and cousins there and of course, we share a Grandma. After we left, she got the story from them, which was told from a perspective to make them look good and like we were the bad guys. I heard rumors (unsure who started them) that they were telling people at Sunday meetings that I had left, gone off the deep end by sleeping around, drinking, doing drugs, and being completely ridiculous. I have never done any of that. In fact, it wasn't until about 2 years ago that I had my first sip of a margarita. And I hated it. I left the church and almost immediately went to Bible College in Dallas, Texas. My heart was to become a missionary and to stay a Christian. Actually, my heart was to find out what a real Christian was! Because to be honest, I really had no clue.

Anyways, the rumors still fly as of this day on how I disvalue family. How I spread rumors about them and lie about what happened there. They don't want to see the truth. They can't see the truth. I was that way when I was there. I'm not being ugly or unkind. I totally "get it" when I hear the rumors. I understand their thought process. I was one of them at one point. Here's a small example on how deeply entrenched I was in the devils hold while in that place. When my Dad decided to leave the church, I felt it was my God-given duty to tell him, almost on a daily basis, how he was going to die and go to hell. I felt it was my God-given duty to tell him that he needed to repent and talk with the brothers and come to agreement with the authority. I felt totally justified in what I was saying. I felt like I was doing what God called me to do. I felt no guilt. No shame. No conscience in how I was putting myself in the place of God and judging my own Dad for something that wasn't even a sin! I was one of the most judgmental people living on the planet. I would judge if a person's hair wasn't perfect, or if their dress was too short, or if they were being immodest. I won't even try to explain how I was with people who weren't apart of the church. God forgive me! Love doesn't rule there. Love doesn't mean anything. Everything is superficial and underneath all the smiles and happiness is an ocean of sadness, confusion, fear and doubt. You'd never know from the outside though. Yes, there are a LOT of good times there. Relationships were real. Friends were real. But what held us together wasn't. It was just controlled atmosphere and everyone was "happy" as long as you followed each rule perfectly.

I have never quite gotten over the fact that they feel it's ok to talk behind my back (but who am I to judge? because I did it too). Once someone has left the church, you're the subject of everyone talking about how to not back slide and become a heathen. They claim that loving people and praying for them is the best way, yet they stab people with their words after they do something they don't agree with. They claim family is so important, yet they refuse to even sit down and eat dinner at Christmas or Thanksgiving with us. They claim they're a city, set on a hill, to attract people to Jesus, yet they push the ones away they feel are going to hell the most. So when I talk about being hypocritical, and uncaring, and unfeeling, it is my human side coming out, angry that I can't have my own family...my cousins, my aunt, my uncle, my friends, back. I'm human. I spent all my "aware"  years there, thinking I'd never leave. Thinking this was it. Thinking that all the friends I had would be there when I died. I never imagined that I'd be leaving on such bad terms. I never imagined I'd not have my kids grow up with my best friend's kids. I never imagined that I'd be pushed into a world of unknowns and people who really don't seem to care about the reality of a war going on in my heart. It's been hard settling down and finding friends. I don't feel I fit anywhere. No, this isn't a pity party. This is just how I feel. I've made choices to not make friends on certain occassions and to hold back in other situations. I'm growing out of that. It just takes time.

So when I talk about family, friends, loved ones, I am talking about my life...my past, the people I have held close for the majority of my life, not any church I have attended recently. Not Paul's family (we just had a LOVELY visit with his brother and sister in law). Not anyone else. My heart aches sometimes and sometimes my blog, tweets and Facebook will share some of that ache. You people on Twitter, Facebook and those who read my blogs are my friends. I really don't have outside relationships at this point. That's how I communicate. I hope everyone understands and can move forward with knowing that even when I say that about family, friends being hypocritical...it's because they say with their mouths they want to see us and love us, yet when we reach out, we are verbally slapped and crushed by their words. I will say it here as I said above, I was one of those hypocrites once. I said and did the same things. I have no stones to throw. I just have a wounded heart and I pray some day God heals it all over and brings people into my life that I can love on, depend on and serve. <3

Edit: I have over 30 friends on my personal Facebook that have left the same church as well. We all understand each other and gain strength and encouragement from each other. Others experience the same shunning, hate and hypocrisy that I do. We understand when we talk about "HH" (Homestead Heritage) and we understand when we talk about family, and friends. We aren't naming anyone specific. There isn't anyone specific to talk about. And even if there was, I wouldn't do that. I still respect them. I still love them. But that doesn't keep me, and the numerous other young people and adults, from being hurt by their actions. Our stories of over coming and just knowing that others struggle still, help each other. It's kind of like Alcoholics Anonymous. You to go group to talk about your struggles and gain strength from others. It's the same with us. Except we all live all over the place and there's no way we could all get together for a support group.