Broken Dreams

For years I wanted to be a missionary. I was raised in the ’80s. We are the World was one of my favorite songs. Missions work seemed like the ultimate adventure, and still allowed me the opportunity to help others.

When I was first shamed, my pastor knew my desire. He told me several times that he didn’t want me at his church, so maybe I should just go be a missionary. Not knowing what was happening, I decided that missions work was out of the question for me, because I was so messed up I couldn’t even be a good saint, much less someone who could reach out and touch others.

For years after that, I hid the pieces of my dream. I built some other dreams, and tried to follow them instead. And I did. But I wasn’t satisfied.

Dreams mean a lot to people. If someone shares their dream with you, treasure it, protect it, and encourage it. Don’t kill it, crush it, or break it. Dreams are precious things, but they are fragile, after all.

No, I don’t see myself biking across China passing out bibles. But God has a purpose and it isn’t too late to find it. My childhood dream was glorious, but in reality it wasn’t so much about traveling the world as it was about helping others and doing something for God. Maybe its time to brush the dust off of my dreams, to polish them a bit and examine them in the light of experience. Maybe they weren’t so broken, after all. Even if they were, I think I know now Who can fix them.

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Go to Hell, do not pass go and do not collect 200

From my earliest memories, I was always confused about how we (as the only true believers going to heaven) could be so nonchalant about sending so many people to hell. According to the doctrine, most of our friends, neighbors, and even many of our relatives were going to spend eternity in a lake burning with fire and brimstone, but we just laughed and socialized and only showed any concern during heated revivals. The rest of the time, we acted as if we really didn’t care. How could this be?

There were also times when I observed some seeming to almost rejoice that some ‘jerk’ was headed for the lake of fire! And then it was also understood that “they were making their own bed and would have to lay in it – even if it was on fire!”

We would rejoice when someone would come to church and make a start but if they slipped up and didn’t stay, we quickly tch, tched, them back on the road to damnation.

As an adult this always still bothered me, even though I was very hesitant to bring many friends to my out of the mainstream church and carried a heavy load of guilt for my complicity in their not finding salvation.

Finally as a senior citizen, I have escaped the cult and clearly see the ridiculousness of the doctrine that would take God’s plan and create a burden so heavy that none can bear it. Who among us is able to bear the burden of believing that all but those in this one doctrine are headed for eternal damnation, regardless of whether they are loving, believing, kind, caring Christians? The doctrine of the cult condemns them for clothing choices, ordinary daily activities, and hairstyles.

Christ condemned the Pharisees that would put these heavy burdens on those He had set free. God isn’t measuring your sleeve length or checking out your bling, He is looking on your heart AND He tells us by their fruit shall you know them. Is this fruit clothing, hairstyles, or other outward appearance? NO, this fruit is LOVE . . . . .by this shall you know that they are my disciples, that they have LOVE one to another. I remember, from my earliest memories that many of those being condemned to Hell by the United Pentecostal Church were full of love, kindness, gentleness, meekness, . . . . .

Oh, but, (they would say) what about Cornelius? He still had to be baptized and be filled with the Spirit! Yes, but did he then have to be circumcised (ie: follow the Pharisees law)? No, he did not! Who are you to judge another man’s servant? Is it for us to judge who is baptized and correctly filled with God’s Spirit or were we told by God that “by the fruit of God’s love shining forth in their life we would know them”!?

I would venture one step further . . . .how many doing the condemning show any measure of love, especially to those without. . . . .it is easy to love those who love us, do not even the infidels do this but God commands us to love even the jerk that we would prefer to send to Hell . . . . . . . .and that love should be so obvious and overwhelming as to be clearly seen as a signal that we belong to Him. Sadly, I found very little evidence of this kind of love within the UPC.

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Taking A Break From The Timeline

I’m going to take a break from cataloguing memories in a specific timeline. Concentrating so hard on such unpleasant events and trying to remember accurate details is getting me down. Last night I had nightmares about the exorcism.

Yes, I’m a grown woman, wife, mother, professional, and I still have nightmares about things that happened in my UPC (United Pentecostal Church) upbringing. If my husband is not with me, I sleep with the light on. Even after years of therapy and feeling more peaceful with the world in general than I ever have, I still have a lot of residual fear that is not yet completely gone.

I cannot read the book of Revelations without seeing that horrible “End Times” video in my mind that was shown to me by Apostolics. I will not speak of it now, maybe sometime I’ll write about it. Sometimes I can almost put this stuff behind me and have peace, but *something* always happens and I find myself shaking inside again, while keeping my demeanor frozen in ‘normalcy’. Can’t let the masses see the fear, they’d think I was crazy. (Maybe I am.. after all, a Pentecostal preacher said I was a reprobate…)

So, while I’m taking this break, I will continue posting some random (less disturbing) memories about growing up UPC/Apostolic.

One such memory is this: I remember an unsaved couple coming to our church once, and of course, the lady was not dressed in compliance with the standards. She wore a dress, but had cut hair, makeup, earrings, etc. A boy of about 12 went up to her after service and said “Don’t come back as long as you’re wearing earrings, we don’t believe in that here”. She wasn’t sure how to take it, because looking around, none of the women were wearing earrings. But, this was just a child, so she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.

Fortunately, someone heard him and went and told the Pastor. The Pastor immediately came to her and apologized and said that he was just a confused child, we very much wanted her to come back, in fact to come back forever would be our greatest wish. She said “But is it true? Do you consider earrings a sin?”

Since the lady had obviously just had her feelings hurt, the Pastor tried to stumble around the standards without saying outright, yes we consider them a sin. By this point he was pretty flustered and although I can’t remember his exact explanation, I know it wasn’t great (how could it be?) and they never came back. The boy was given a talking-to from the Pastor, and then was punished at home by his parents.

However, I don’t know that he really deserved punishment. He was repeating what he’d been taught. He thought he was standing up for his beliefs. The church didn’t do much teaching on grace, personal convictions, or ‘working out your own salvation’, but they did a WHOLE LOT of preaching on standards, not being ashamed of your beliefs, not letting the church get contaminated with worldliness, and the hell fire that was waiting for anyone who was ashamed to stand up for Pentecostal ‘truths’. So, who was really to blame for this boy’s behavior?

Personally, I would compare this to an army unit spending 12 years teaching a soldier to defend its territory against a well-defined enemy, and then punishing the soldier for acting on his training.

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Measuring Up

Whatever you did, you did not miss church unless it was very dire. If you were sick, you came to church anyway, unless you were throwing up or had diarrhea. Unless you were contagious you were at church.

When it came to working your job, you had to keep your priorities right. First of all, if you were interviewing for a job and they wanted you to work on a church night or Sunday, you turned that job down and walked away. You needed to put God first. You didn’t participate in anything that would take you away from regular church services.

There were a few exceptions, such as being on your honeymoon. However, many people did not even pay attention to those exceptions. I cannot tell you how many times we had visitors from other United Pentecostal Church or independent churches, people that were on vacation, and even people that were on their honeymoon. You just did not miss church!

Not only did you not miss church, you needed to be there 30 minutes early to pray. If you were not making it a full 30 minutes ahead of time for prayer, you would hear about it, often from the pulpit (in a general rebuke to all).

I remember feeling tremendous guilt, as a mother of four very small children, when I didn’t make it to church the full 30 minutes ahead of time. I felt, whether true or not, like people were judging me for being late. I wasn’t even late, but it felt late because I wasn’t there 30 minutes before church for prayer. However, like most young mothers with small children, it is a huge task to get all those babies ready for church. Then, about the time you think you got them all ready, one of them leaks out of his diaper, or someone gets something on their clothes. Then you have to change that and clean them up. It’s really a chore to get a family to church on time. Also, trying to pray for 30 minutes before church with four kids under the age of 10 can be a real handful. While you’re trying to pray, you get five words out, and a couple of kids are fighting, or they’re talking too loud, or some other childish behavior that’s disturbing others. I found it rather pointless as a mother of four small children to even come early for prayer.

Be that as it may, it was definitely expected. You certainly were not going to have any position of leadership if you were not very faithful with coming early for prayer.

Another thing about that culture was that if you were going to miss service, for whatever reason, you called the pastor and told him ahead of time. If you didn’t, he would be wondering where you were, and you were sure to get a call as he was trying to figure out why you weren’t there. Strangely enough, that is still expected in the church I attend now, although I do not do it.

Many other people find it ridiculous, as we are all adults and can choose to go when we want to and stay home when we want to. It was not that way in the church where I grew up! If you were not in church every service, and early to pray, you had better have a really good reason!

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Religious Traditions

When I was young, we used to have all-night prayer meetings occasionally, and sometimes all night “watch night services”. These were times when we stayed at church all night, praying and on one occasion, fasting.

Sometimes there would be footwashing and communion during these times. There would also be a lot of prayer, and some preaching and singing. Interestingly enough, everybody was so sleepy that I’m not sure how much they were praying or just repeating the same thing over and over again. At any rate, a few of these occasions stick out in my mind.

On one occasion it must’ve been a sectional meeting, because I remember some teenagers that were not normally at our church being there. I was probably 9, 10 years old or something like that. I can remember trying to stay awake and it was so hard for me. We were going to stay there until 6 o’clock in the morning. These teen kids laid down on the pews to take a nap during the session and I remember thinking how carnal they were. I managed to stay awake the whole time, largely because I didn’t want to be like them and their “bad example.” In retrospect, I figure they had more sense than anybody there.

I remember the relief when it was finally over, and watching the sun come up as we went home. Of course, the next day would be completely unproductive, because we were all sleeping the day away. Now, I really do not see the point in that, because you can pray whether it’s day or night, and we made up our sleep anyway.

Apparently, my dad didn’t see the point in it either, because after those few times I have in my memory, we never had an all night service again. During the watch night services, after that point, we never stayed all night long. However, service would start a little bit later, and we would usually make it till midnight, or close to.

I remember communion being a big ordeal. First of all you would be told several services ahead of time, so you could “get your heart right.” Because, the slightest little thing that you had in your heart, whether it be bitterness against someone, unforgiveness, or even some unknown sin you had not figured out that you had done yet…any one of these could mean that you were “taking the Lord’s supper unworthily.” I’m not sure, from memory, exactly what all that entailed, but it was very severe, and it meant that you were going to have some awful punishment from God.

So, there was usually fasting and prayer a few days before you went to take communion. Right before you took communion, there was usually another time of repenting, just to make sure that you filtered out every sin and repented of it. Then you could take communion, but only if you had the Holy Ghost. Otherwise, you were still under that horrible curse of whatever might occur as punishment for taking the Lord’s supper unworthily.

I remember the first time I took communion at a different location, in a more liberal church. I was amazed at the difference. Although it was taken seriously, as in thinking about the Cross, everybody was invited to partake, regardless of whether they had the Holy Ghost or not, even children were included. I was blown away!

I began to think about why all the fear and scare tactics had been heaped upon us at those times, And why the taking of the Lord’s supper was so rare. I really never figured it out. I know the Bible talks about taking the Lord’s supper unworthily, but it never really seemed to be, on a surface reading, exactly the huge fearful issue that I was accustomed to. Anyway, I always dreaded communion, because I was afraid that there might be some stray sin that I had forgotten to repent about. I had this irrational fear that God would strike me dead if I forgot to repent of something.

Also, crying seemed to be a necessity. While I always appreciated the seriousness of the representation of what we were doing, I couldn’t always summon tears about it. I know that Jesus died for us on the cross, and sacrificed for us, but he did it so that we could have joy and salvation. Sometimes I didn’t feel like crying. However, there was something inside me that was afraid that if I didn’t, I would be taking it “unworthily.” When I think about just this one fearful ceremony, I realize anew that there are so many reasons I suffer from anxiety.

Foot Washing was a whole story in and of itself. We were told to wash our feet really good before we came, ironically. Then, all the women would go in one room and all the men would go in the other room. I remember that some women would be wearing their pantyhose when it was time to wash their feet. It felt really weird to be splashing water on feet clad in pantyhose. Everyone would be crying and praying and speaking in tongues while they washed someone else’s feet.

The problem for me was that I was extremely ticklish on my feet. I would be trying to be all serious and spiritual, but the minute their hand would brush over the bottom of my feet my feet would jerk. This didn’t lend to a very spiritual atmosphere, so I’d always feel guilty. However, in time as I grew, I learned to still myself to where the jerking would be less, or I would warn them before they washed my feet that I was very ticklish, and to avoid the bottom of my feet. That way everybody could still stay spiritual, weeping and praying, instead of giggling over my ticklish feet.

After the foot washing, there would be a lot of hugging and apologies “in case I’ve ever offended you”. Now, thinking back, I’m not sure exactly where all the traditions surrounding this really came from.

When Jesus washed his disciples feet, it was because there was dung and dirt on them. He took that role instead of having the usual servant do it, in order to teach them that the master needs to be a servant to his followers. Nowadays there’s no reason to be washing each others feet, unless it’s just for the symbolism. Most everybody has a shower to wash their own feet, and none of us really walk through dung to get to church.

Anyway, throughout my time growing up, as my father begin to fellowship more and more in the “conservative” circles, I began to see some very weird things happen. For example, if a young man had a “hero worship” for one of the preachers, he would often come and say “I just want to shine your shoes would you let me shine your shoes?” Or, he would come and say “I need to wash your feet brother… I just need to wash your feet.”

This was in direct contrast to what Jesus was trying to show his disciples. He didn’t say “Peter you come wash my feet”. In fact, He said “no, you’re not going to wash my feet, Peter. I’m trying to teach you something here. I’m going to wash your feet.”

Although the pastors did wash feet during foot washing services, I don’t remember ever seeing a pastor just walk up to someone and say “I need to wash your feet…I just want to show you I’m here to serve.” Yet, interestingly enough, as I began in my middle adult years to study the Scriptures concerning the role of a pastor in one’s life, the Bible spoke clearly about a pastor being a servant.

This is in direct contrast to what I saw during those times when people wanted to just polish pastor’s shoes, or wash his feet….especially since those preachers often let that happen publicly, (at least the shoeshine).

Anyway, I still don’t see any need in our culture for foot washing services. I think we can show our servant hood to one another in other more practical ways, like providing a new tire for a widow who can’t scrape the money together. Or, babysitting the children of a single mother for free so that she can have a day off. The idea was about servant-hood, not cleaning somebody’s feet.

However, I digress.

In discussing all night services, one in particular stands out in my mind. I was young, but I don’t remember exactly how old. I would say I had probably not yet reached my teen years, or if I had it was early on in my teen years. I just remember one “watch night service” where my dad brought an alarm clock, and began preaching at about 11 o’clock at night. He was talking about the end of time coming (in the rapture). As it got closer and closer to midnight, he began to talk about there just “being a little time left.” It was a very emotional and impacting message, (obviously, since I remember it so many years later). The fear was tangible, and I literally felt for a few moments during it that the rapture would definitely take place at midnight.

He didn’t say that, of course, but it was a very powerful object lesson. The repentance and fear in the building was palpable.

After the new year being such a serious thing for most of my life, it feels odd now to be celebrating a New Year’s Eve with my children at home. I know a lot of people play games or have friends over, and we have played games at times, but even now, every New Year’s Eve I think about those services with the fear and the exhaustion, the communion and foot washing. I wonder how many children are sitting in church, paralyzed with fear, thinking the rapture is about to happen, and afraid they may not measure up.

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