Author: Through Grace

I was raised in a somewhat unhealthy church group within the Nondenominational Christian Church. After graduating high school, I began attending a United Pentecostal Church (UPC). I've been a member of four UPC churches and visited many others. Of the four of which I was a member, I was "encouraged" not to leave the first and then later sent to the second; attended the second where an usher repeatedly attempted to touch me and the pastor told me I should not care about the standards of the organization and was wrong to do so; ran to a third at that point, which threw me out after a couple years; and walked out of a fourth. For these transfers and because I refused to gossip about my former churches, some called me a "wandering star, a cloud without water" (Jude 1:12). I love the fact that when the blind man was healed, questioned by the Pharisees and temple rulers, and expelled from the temple, Jesus went and sought him out. He very rarely did this once someone was healed, but for this man, he did. I believe God has a special place in his heart for those who are abused, wrongfully accused, or condemned by religious leadership. I believe He loves those who are wronged by churchianity--yes, churchianity, not Christianity, because those who do these wrongs follow a church, not Christ. 1 John 4:7-8 7 Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 8 He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. 9 In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. 10 Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.

What happened to being nice?

I’ve been attending a certain church since February. In all that time, I still haven’t really connected with anyone. They’ve said so many times, “We’re all introverts,” as an excuse for why they aren’t friendlier. This morning I pulled into the parking lot for second service, and these “introverts” who excuse themselves for not talking to me were talking so much that they were talking from car to car even as both drivers were pulling out. I went in and for the first ten minutes of services, these same “introverts” didn’t even come into the sanctuary because they were visiting in the fellowship area. Not one but the door greeter said hi to me, even in response to my greeting.

I don’t know if I’m angrier that they are doing this, angrier that they’re excusing themselves deceitfully, or just sadder or more disgusted about the whole situation. I enjoy the preaching and the music most of the time, but I could get that from the internet at home in my PJs. What’s more unfortunate is that after years of being told that we go to church to gather together, more and more I recognize that there is gathering but not togetherness in far too many churches, and organized religion is actually doing much to push people out of it’s doors not only in cults, but in Christianity at large. If Christians won’t love each other, the unloved will find friendship and fellowship elsewhere, often in settings or with people that these same unfriendly Christians would disagree with. And then the Christians will look around and wonder why people aren’t coming to their churches, even though they ignore them when they come.

********
Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

On work, giving, and other triggers

I finally crashed at work today. For weeks I’ve been attempting to carry more and more of the weight, feeling responsible for anything that wasn’t done, wanting everything to be perfect. Today I gave out. I should have known it was coming, but I didn’t. It’s happened before. I panic. I say too much. I get very angry. My shoulders ache. I feel trapped. And I finally hit my limits… this morning I overslept. By TWO HOURS. My body told me what my brain didn’t: enough is enough.

Thankfully, everyone seems to have understood. They can begin to realize how much I’ve been doing, and admitted they weren’t aware that I was doing all that I was. They are considering making small changes that will remove some of the weight. My boss was apparently pretty angry when she realized what was happening. There is still a disagreement about what will be done, but it’s better. And since my coworkers did help some this morning, even though I missed two hours of work, I was caught up by the end of the day.

I have a problem with overworking and overgiving, and because I struggle with feeling like I need to do all of the work or all of the giving, because I feel guilt if I don’t give or don’t do more and feel responsible for anything that is not done or not given, I know both are areas I need to watch. In order to keep from giving too much, I don’t usually give at all. If I start, I overdo it. So ask me to help in other ways, but not with money. If I’m not careful I’d be broke. I’ve given thousands away because I felt guilty, felt encouraged to, or felt responsible for making up any differences. I can’t do that any more.

The hurricanes have triggered me: everyone wants help. But I can’t provide the billions in aid that is needed. I can’t give away my tools or supplies, either. No one will give back to me. I’ve learned that much. So all I can do is say no. And I can get angry. Angry that the charities the money is funneled through take portions for themselves beyond what is necessary. Angry that the government is giving to organizations without vetting them first. Angry that some of those organizations, particularly religious organizations, will use the funding to benefit themselves rather than those with the most dire needs.

Forgive me for my anger and my resistance. I’ve been the one asked too many times. Asked by the pastor driving the Cadillac to give several thousand to a “sister in Christ”… from my own $14,000 salary. Asked at a time when I didn’t have health insurance and had eaten so much chicken ($0.29/lb for a ten pound bag of legs and thighs) that once I did have a decent job I got queasy at the thought of eating any more of it. Asked at a time when expenses were so tight that I really do still remember the price of the things that I could afford even though it’s been 20 years since that happened. And forgive me that I’m resistant… resistant to giving when I’ve seen what I gave used to purchase that Cadillac instead of helping those with real needs, seen men given meager portions of their large funds (with loud applause) while telling teens and young adults that were struggling to survive that they should give everything they had.

Everywhere I turn there are requests for more to be given. Everyone either has a need or knows someone with a need. I have one too: I have a need to not feel guilty for not chipping in to every fund that is started. I haven’t gotten there yet, but hopefully someday I will. Hopefully I will be able to give some, because I’d like to and because the needs that the requests are for are often very real. But I can’t right now.

I have the same problem with overworking. I want to do everything. I see a need and I want to throw myself at it until it is complete. I stress about it, dream about it, live and breathe it every moment. I get angry that no one else is helping with it, and I get angry at myself for trying to do too much. It’s been especially difficult lately because I was warned that the new director would “destroy” anyone who said something wasn’t their job. And since then more and more has become my job that is not in my scope of work. I finally was able to tell him today that if he ever heard me say something wasn’t my job, I wasn’t saying in any way that I wouldn’t assist all that I could, but simply reminding myself of something I tend to lose sight of: I cannot carry everyone’s weight and I am not responsible for everything that happens in an office or department. I am not responsible for the action or inaction of others.

I’m not sure how much of this is related to spiritual abuse, but at least some of it is. The demands on time and money were real and the expectations were huge. The guilt trips still run through my mind regularly when there is a need and I don’t throw everything into it. Perhaps they were worse for me… my dear pastor emphasized that I had a savings account, and hinted that I should drain it for others who had less. He never said that outright, but he crossed a boundary with his requests many times. He knew how little I made because he knew what my tithe was, but he still pressured me. He never stopped, but I finally did–the day he asked me to help a couple who had taken an early retirement buyout and then spent it all on frivolous things, then didn’t have enough for groceries. He wanted me to give them the money to buy their steak when my personal food budget was much less than $1/meal. That was the day I finally said no, and that was the day his requests stopped. I moved soon after that, but the requests, the constant guilt-trip ‘reminders’ that I was ‘blessed’ with the time and energy and money so that I could give it all away, have stuck. The only way to stop them right now is to say no. It’s not selfishness that drives that, though it probably seems like it to some. It’s not selfishness, it’s sense, driven by desperation.

********
Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

Dreams are strange things

I dreamed last night that I went back to my former church-not to stay, but to visit. In the dream, my former pastor (the one who skipped town after leaving a resignation letter on his desk suddenly several years ago) returned and was preaching again. The church was packed. I forgot one of my shoes and so wore two that didn’t match, then found the missing one and wasn’t wearing any of them. I sat way in the back and debated sitting further forward, but decided I’d rather sit on the floor than sit any closer to the front and call attention to myself (as though sitting on the floor didn’t).

In the dream, things had changed. Everyone got up and marched around the church to drop their offerings in full view of the leaders who would ensure that everyone was giving enough. Slit skirts were no longer frowned on, skirt lengths had dramatically shortened to mid thigh.

In the dream, other things were eerily similar, yet different: leaders would do pre-service skirt checks that included measuring to ensure that the new standard was met, attitudes were haughty and people looked down on each other, judging and condemning rather than loving. And the woman who taught me Bible studies when I first joined had apparently become a member there, though she lives about 9 hours from that church.

It’s a strange dream for a number of reasons, but primarily because I know I’ll never go back and wouldn’t be welcome if I did. Oddly, the former pastor who allowed so much wrong and who wronged so many would probably be welcomed before me. It’s also strange because I have no idea why I had it. I’ve done nothing that would remind me of them, seen nothing that should have brought on a dream of that place, and it’s been probably several years since I dreamed about that place at all.

Dreams are strange. Thankfully, many don’t mean anything and ones like this no longer bother me or haunt me for hours or days afterward.

********
Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

Fears after Leaving

After leaving, there may be a time period of trying to find some balance, a time when a person might go to opposite extremes with a sort of pendulum effect. Different people seek different kinds of balance. Some may go to extremes with their looks or actions. For me, I think the majority of my pendulum time has been spent learning to set boundaries and say no.

I learned a lot during this time from just being free to do these things. I was amazed when I discovered I wasn’t shunned for saying no, setting boundaries, or even leaving situations that made me uncomfortable, even if my friends stayed in those situations. I was even more amazed that these people remained friends. Yes, a few people ended their friendships with me, but many others were true friends and encouraged me and were there for me through this time. Just being able to set my own boundaries and make my own decisions was helpful and healing, but knowing that I was accepted as I did these, even when I was more extreme, was even more so.

I’ve known people who didn’t seem to understand why I might need to do this. Maybe they didn’t share my experience of feeling I had to stay in an unhealthy church, had to support them or do things for them, keep participating in their activities, or had to remain silent and accept what I saw as harmful or frightening. It’s taken nearly eight years to regain some of the balance of being able to say “no,” to set boundaries, and even to leave a situation when I want… and it still takes a whole lot of self-talk sometimes to do them, especially without feeling guilty or embarrassed. But I’m learning.

********
Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

Leaving (pt 2)

Continued from here.

When I left my former group, I needed a place to talk through things with people who would understand, and found three groups that seemed to. They were very different. One announced personal information about me, which scared me. The other two asked for personal information, but didn’t share it with their groups. Yet they had it, and I was afraid they could use it against me if they wanted. There were two other things that scared me, though. The first was that one group pressured me to change my beliefs about things that were fundamental to the doctrine of the group I left and another seemed to hold to those beliefs. The second was how harsh the groups all seemed toward either beliefs or people within my former group.

It’s scary to leave a group. To hear people saying things against that group when you’ve been taught never to say ANYTHING even remotely negative about the group can be frightening. To hear that group called a cult or heretics, to hear the standards discussed as false doctrine, and to even see people making decisions to not believe in God at all, blaming the group for their disbelief–those things can be terrifying.

In the end, I left two groups. The first I left because they were so very negative and hateful toward my former group. They weren’t simply upset with the people who had hurt them, but with everyone who wore the label “Pentecostal.” They stereotyped all Pentecostals as bad, as hypocritical and abusive among other things. The second repeatedly made extremely derisive comments toward those in their former groups in what I thought was an angry, bitter way. I tried to divert those comments to more positive thoughts, but it didn’t work. I discussed this and how it upset me with the group leader on a couple occasions… and was removed from the group after the last discussion. I wasn’t told I was being removed. I just suddenly didn’t have access anymore.

Each group actually helped me in it’s own way. At least one helped me learn what I did NOT want to become. Two encouraged me to think for myself, but one also reminded me very much of my unhealthy church in the end, because when I pressed for changes to control the more extreme negatives, I was removed. Even so, I still learned from it. One of the things I learned was that I was my own person and that I could and would stand for what I believed to be right, even if it went against leadership… and even if it meant being censured for it. In time, I learned that it was the right decision, even though it hurt at the time, just like leaving my former church did. And eight years later I’m still a part of the final group.

I see people come and go from groups now and it bothers me some. I wonder if I’ve said anything wrong or if there was something more I should have said. I’ve seen responses from others that ranged from sadness to what seemed to me to border on “good riddance” and reminded me very much of the response of the church I left. In reality, I don’t know what anyone’s intent is in their response. They could laugh because they’re sad or scared themselves. They could shrug it off because they are bothered when people leave or because they are reacting to another interaction with that person.

In all, the people in the groups I’m part of seem healthy and are willing to do so much to help others. There are times that discussions get negative, but not hatefully or bitterly so, and not in an attacking way for the most part. When I see a post that seems to be hateful, bitter, attacking, labeling or stereotyping, it’s quite often either not intended that way or is by someone who is just leaving or who simply needs to vent. And I’ve learned, in time, to be patient.

When I first left the unhealthy church, I went through a time where I didn’t want to leave and wanted to run every time a group seemed to oppose the unhealthy group. Then, I went through a time where I wanted to leave any group where anything “bad” might be said or done. Eventually, I learned that I could ignore some things, take a break for a few days, or even hide certain types of posts, either dealing with them once I felt ready or never. Mainly, I discovered that I had a choice, and that being part of a healthy group didn’t mean I had to agree completely with everyone in that group. I didn’t even have to agree at all. But more important, I learned that even if I didn’t agree, I could still love. I didn’t have to leave.

That has been well worth learning.

********
Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.