When joining a church, people desire to become part of a safety network of people of like-faith. They develop close-knit relationships, friendships, and know the ends and outs of fellow members’ everyday struggles. They know who to go to for counsel and where to go to have a good time. They study the Bible together and celebrate new life, even after loved ones have come and gone. Sadly, this desire for a place to belong can be blinding, limiting one’s view to rose-colored glasses, explaining away any possibility of grave deception and wrong-doing that does not fit into the mold they have created in their minds. Christians can become so enamored with the idea of serving Christ and following Him wherever He leads, that they fail to stop and analyze the necessity of potentially leaving a spiritually dangerous situation.
Blissfully Unaware
In September of 2017, we would soon have three children, aged three and under, in our home. I was struggling with perinatal depression and anxiety while preparing for a third round of postpartum mood disorders. Not only was I miserable in the southeastern summer heat at what felt like forty-years pregnant, but I was dreading another year of being socially outcast at church for breastfeeding in the services. I reclused into the safety of my immediate family, not only as we approached birthing day, but in the weeks to follow as I held, comforted, and connected with our newborn baby. I was blissfully clueless about the raging currents underneath of what appeared to be a calm and serene church environment, until about midway through the month of October.
An Unusual Church Service
On the last day of a month-long agreement (with my husband) to attempt using the mother’s room for a month, my youngest was miserable with an ear infection, nursed continuously after short naps in my arms, and of course, the service was not playing on the screen downstairs where the internet was entirely unreliable. After about forty-five minutes of continuous cry-nurse-nap-repeat, I finally stepped out of the prison door to discover that no one was in the nursery. I found out later through my husband that the pastor used the entire church service because supposedly people were talking poorly of the pastor’s family and several members of his family no longer wanted to even go to the church services. The pastor had often considered sending his teenage son to a different church for awhile because our church “[did not] appreciate what we had in [the pastor’s son].” The pastor’s son had always been respectful and kindhearted, but what bothered me the most was hearing that someone had the nerve to call the pastor’s oldest daughter ungodly, an idea almost unfathomable considering her consistently sweet and tender manner. In the end, however, what felt ‘off’ was that a church service was used as a time to bring the pastor’s family before the church. We were brought into a situation that should have been resolved privately, or with both sides laid out for analysis, rather than throwing out general accusations and attempting to rally everyone in emotional support of the pastor and his family. In the end, I decided that this was only a one-time occurrence, and none of my business, but if it continued to happen, it would be a different story.
The Rear-view Mirror
Looking back, I wonder why I did not listen to the red flags firing off in my head after this church service. Why did I not see the ‘us-versus-them‘ mentality? Another service like this never came, but I had forgotten about the one a year or two before when a woman was supposedly messaging the pastor anonymously, tearing him and his family to shreds, and the pastor had everyone vote on if we wanted to keep him as the pastor or not. Why did I not connect the dots? I wonder why we did not leave a year and half before when I was told that I was exposing myself to the men of the church by breastfeeding covered in the service. Why did we not leave when the pastor got up and preached a message on modesty shortly thereafter and talked about being “covered”? Why did we not leave when an arrogant, narcissistic man under the pastor falsely accused us of not doing our “homework” for an international mission’s trip that quickly turned dangerous within a month or two of pending departure?
Why? We wanted to see the best in people and our children had a home there. We had a few friends, though most of the close ones had already moved away. We were involved in ministry, and my husband was longing to grow in ministerial experience and Bible knowledge in preparation for becoming a missionary, his calling and dream for two decades already. The Lord had led us there away from an abusive church, knowing my husband would likely never graduate because of the decision to change membership, and who were we to leave because of problems that came up? The Bible calls us to work through problems, not run away from them, right? Because of our hopes, we were blind as our once-healthier church changed drastically over the course of a few years. Our eyes did not even begin to open until after we saw the true heart of the leadership following a mass exodus of godly people in the fall of 2017.
In this series I share my thoughts and opinions concerning these ministers and the events which led to my departure. Click here to continue reading: “Blindsided: The First Warning Signs” or click on the link below.
For a list of the complete series, click here.
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