In the last few months I’ve been very triggered. I watched as someone I cared about was ostracized, gossiped and lied about. I watched as others participated in the gossip. I warned people, knowing doing so would likely not end well for me. I lost friends, felt judged… and relived a lot of past church trauma.
I made some different choices this time than I would have in the past. I did what I thought was right, and some of that may not have been what was best and some that I thought in the past would have been better to have done didn’t work, after all. There are just some situations that no matter what we do will not end well. I learned one thing: no matter what we do, we can’t usually stop some large entity intent on hurtling toward a bad end. At least that relieves me of some guilt or self-doubt from the past. And I’ve learned sometimes the only thing we can do is what we think will be best for ourselves – and that that’s not selfish, it’s just life.
Healing is an ongoing journey. It’s not linear. We take a step forward, sometimes three steps back. We move forward, then end up triggered by something and end up cycling back through everything all over again. Or – ugh – we end up in a situation that’s eerily similar to what hurt us to begin with, parallel on parallel, and we have to somehow navigate that AND all the memories and past hurts at the same time.
It’s OK to do that. And the fact that we can demonstrates that we really ARE healing, even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time.
A year ago I had an experience that brought major healing to an old hurt. It was sudden and unexpected. In the process I learned I could play the piano again. I didn’t think I ever would. After the triggers though, my playing gradually stopped. I haven’t played for close to three months, and haven’t played joyfully or for long for maybe twice that time.
Today brought some closure. Several surprises, several opportunities to remember good things that have happened, past healing moments. And somehow through today, I know the music is back again. I haven’t played yet, but the sadness that blocked the music isn’t blocking anymore. Nothing major happened today. Just memories, just acceptance, just love. And it was enough. And that’s healing, too.
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Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 9, 2015 as part of a series.
Editorial Note: Although Ashley is a survivor of a Christian fundamentalist cult, unfortunately she became abusive herself. She has been reported to several law enforcement agencies for human trafficking others from 2017-2019. She is the abusive partner mentioned in this post from 2022.
I keep Ashley’s story on the blog as a reminder that those who do not heal from their own trauma can and often do end up harming others. If you see online fundraisers for Ashley or her current partners, please know that anything you donate may enable her to continue to cause harm, and we would caution anyone against donating to her. If you know where she is, please report her to the authorities since she has been avoiding speaking to investigators for several years.
Ashley grew up attending the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs, now known as Heritage Pentecostal Church. This is Ashley’s story, told in her own words.
Do you know what it’s like when You’re scared to see yourself? Do you know what it’s like when You wish it were someone else Who didn’t need your help to get by? Do you know what it’s like To wanna surrender? I don’t wanna feel like this tomorrow I don’t wanna live like this today Make me feel better, I wanna feel better Stay with me here now and never surrender Never surrender. – Surrender, Skillet
“Mama! Mama! Look at the butterfly!” I squealed in delight at the wonder perched on my shoulder.
“Don’t move, Lovey! It’ll fly away.”
I stood as still as possible as my mom snapped a picture of this beautiful creature, and watched as it flew away. I remember thinking as I watched the butterfly float into a beautiful, summer day, how amazing it would be to be able to just whisk yourself away whenever you chose.
I had no idea how much I would pine for that fantasy to become a reality.
I always remember my parents being there, no matter what the occasion was. Pajama day at school, grown-up day, job day, doctor’s appointments, they were always present. I can’t remember an important event they were not there for.
I went to them with everything, no matter how strange, and they were always brutally honest with me. I liked it that way. Being a straightforward person, I needed that to grow. Things were always so comfortable — and then 2001 came and everything changed. Drastically.
My mom had gotten involved with a church when she was 15, and the experience had always stayed with her. She had visited a Pentecostal holiness church and had received what they call the Holy Ghost, which to them is the basis of salvation. You cannot attain Heaven without it, and once you have received it, even if you walk away from God, you are marked and you will be a target for Satan.
My dad, on the other hand, is Irish/German and was raised Catholic. He was actually an altar boy growing up and wanted to become a priest. However, he grew out of that sometime in high school.
While living in Louisiana, my mom met a girl named Billie Jo, and they went to a Pentecostal church together. My mom converted all the way this time (lost the pants, threw away the jewelry, chucked the TV and music) and as soon as my dad joined, we essentially became Amish with microwaves.
Ashley (center) at a church outreach and evangelism event called Youth with Truth at Acacia Park in downtown Colorado Springs on June 29, 2013. | Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
But even then, my parents broke me in slowly.
As an only child, I had practically every Disney movie known to man, and they allowed me to hand over my Disney movies in exchange for Veggie Tales. From there, it was my Veggie Tales traded in for either a trampoline or a puppy. My daddy bought me both.
They introduced me into that world slowly, and with ease. I appreciated that, even then. I knew they could have completely ripped everything away from me and made the transition harder than it already was. But they didn’t.
I never thanked them for that. I guess it kind of got buried under everything other emotion that surfaced after.
At first, things weren’t so bad. The family environment was great. Having no family in Colorado, the church appeared to be exactly what we needed. I started going to the church school which consisted of about 50 kids. I made friends quickly, and it seemed so easy at first. We were accepted as new converts and everything was cool.
My parents also made friends, and were treated like family by the pastor. They were like their kids.
I believe this is what started the depth of my parents’ relationship with the ministry. Around 2006, the pastor decided he wanted to evangelize and ended up electing a man from Mississippi to pastor the church.
I’ve never seen a man so hell bent on changing people for the worst.
Brother and Sister Burgess at Ashley’s high school graduation. | Photo: Ashley Kavanaugh
To my parents, this couple took the place of God. I have literally heard my dad say that if John Burgess asked him to stand on his head for 6 hours a day, in the middle of Interstate 25, that he would do it without hesitation.
They believe that he is the voice of God, that even if he is wrong, and they sin because of his advice, that God would honor their obedience and look past their own wrongdoing.
The church services are filled with hype and the sermons are mostly guilt, especially directed at young people. They warn us of the wrath of God if we choose to walk away and almost every service we are reminded of the horrors that have happened to backsliders all through Pentecostal history, including those from our own youth group.
One of the stories of backsliders was one of my close friends Sharonda.
She grew up with me, my mom babysat her and her older sister, and I looked up to this girl. She was my idol for a long time. She was my piano inspiration, she was cool, and she loved people.
I’ve never met a heart as big as Sharonda’s.
She was shot and killed late summer 2012. The case was never solved, and the Burgesses made not only her death, but also her funeral, an omen and message to all of us, that we should not run from God, for he is a jealous God, and his vengeance is strong.
She is seldom mentioned among the young people. It just hurts too much.
Brother John Burgess leading prayer during church outreach event called Youth With Truth at Acacia Park in downtown Colorado Springs on June 29, 2013. | Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
The Burgesses continued to push their way into the minds of the church, and more and more young people have been driven away from God.
Most of the “backsliders” that I know don’t even believe in a benevolent God anymore.
This started to become my opinion very young. I couldn’t see how any of this made sense. I thought the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was just and honorable? Not malicious and manipulative.
After my parents began to blindly follow the pastor, I started to lose control. I shut off all emotions because I just couldn’t handle them anymore. I began to get more and more reclusive, and eventually began to blame myself for the guilt and pain that my parents were dealing with due to the controlling ways of the church.
I didn’t know how to get help, and I began to fall into a deeper depression. I began to self-harm. This was done in so many ways, I can’t even begin to explain it all. Eventually, the self-harm wasn’t enough. I attempted suicide six times, starting at the age of 11.
I tried everything. Nothing worked.
My mom caught me cutting once and literally dragged me in to Shanna Burgess (the pastor’s wife), who promptly told me as I lay on the floor, bleeding, that it was all in my head, and I needed to stop being so angry at God.
She told me I was the one to blame.
After coming to her weeks before with my heart wide open and breaking in pieces, I explained one reason why I felt so alone. I was sexually assaulted when I was 6 years old and had no way to express my feelings. She, of course, immediately took this information to my mother, who denied it.
My parents have never believed me. Sister Burgess told me I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself because come on, it never happened!
I hated them before but after this? I could never forgive them.
Brother and Sister Burgess had and still have a hold on my parents like nothing I’ve ever seen.
(Left to right) Brother John Burgess, Ashley Kavanaugh, and Kevin Kavanaugh at Heritage Christian Academy’s 2012 high school graduation. Heritage Christian Academy is a private, unaccredited school operated by the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs. | Photo: Ashley Kavanaugh
When I turned 18, things started to look up. I was finally allowed to have a phone because I had turned 18 (pastor’s rules for youth), I was finally granted rights to a car (that I bought, of course), and everything was going good.
I had been in good graces with the Burgesses and my family. I was following the rules to perfection.
And then after a falling out with my best friend at the time, I started to become close friends with a girl named Racquel. We began to grow closer and closer as the months went on, and before you knew it, we were opening up to each other. I told her things I had never told anyone ever.
Eventually, our concerns about the church and their doctrines, the Burgesses and all sorts of other questions came to the forefront of our conversations and we began to discuss them.
We grew even closer after learning about some of the abuse that the other one had endured.
We got caught discussing these topics, and we were separated and forbidden to speak to one another. This happened four times.
Each time we grew closer and closer and eventually, we started to go to extreme lengths to see each other. My parents and the Burgesses resorted to lying to both of us, trying to force us to hate each other.
After another six months of not speaking, we once again rebelled and talked about what had happened. We realized they had lied to both of us, obtaining information by hacking email and bank accounts. My parents forced me to stop attending my college classes because Racquel might try to visit me there.
We communicated to each other through Eleanor for about three weeks, and then we started to sneak out again.
We had contemplated running away many times before, but something was different this time.
When two adults aren’t allowed to talk because they get caught listening to One Direction, there’s some serious malfunction going on. It had reached an all-time idiocy and we had enough.
We both left home, and the night I did that was the hardest decision of my life.
Three days later, my dad was going to throw my stuff on the sidewalk. My mom, who was out of town at the time, convinced him to let me come pack my stuff, so he left for a few hours.
Racquel and Eleanor went with me. The first thing I noticed when I came in was that all my pictures were taken off the walls and lay facing down. Some sat in piles on the floor. I almost lost it then.
I just remember feeling like my parents died, and I was cleaning out their house.
A little later, Cynthia Jeub and another friend also came over. I’ll never forget the look on Cynthia’s face when I saw her. I walked outside to greet them, and she just looked so disturbed. But there was also pride in her eyes.
She hugged me for a good ten minutes. I’ve never expressed how much that hug meant to me.
They helped me pack up, and I decided last minute to check my mom’s car. I went to look for any remaining items, and when I opened the door, I saw that the inside of the car was destroyed.
I can only assume my dad went crazy and trashed the car. It was really scary.
Everyone was panicking because we didn’t know when he was coming back, and he had guns, so people were starting to freak out. We left not long after.
It didn’t really hit me until then, how drastic the change was going to be.
Since then, I have gone through a lot. I’ve put myself through an abusive relationship, made myself be something I wasn’t, lost connection with my family for months at a time because of “religious differences,” moved around a lot, found out I was adopted by my dad, been through a ton of counseling, self-harmed, ran from my home state, even shut my humanity off a few times.
But one thing I can say I haven’t, nor will I ever do, is forget who I am and where I came from.
I can’t express how hard it has been. The sleepless nights, the thousands of times I’ve cried myself to sleep, and woke up screaming. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
But you know what? I don’t regret it. I can’t. I’ve invested too much into this decision to fault it.
To those of you trying to escape, it’s not impossible. It’s not easy, but I promise its worth it.
We have helped more people come out since my decision to leave, and the feeling is so liberating, knowing you are a voice and a model for them.
To those of you who have siblings that are still in captivity, don’t give up hope. They will make it. YOU are their light, no matter how dark you feel sometimes.Because sometimes the darkest shadows have been cast by the brightest lights.
And no matter what bad choices you make long the way, I’ve found that I don’t have to be ashamed of them. Because they are finally my decisions.
So while wading through your red river of screams just as we have, remember you do not fight alone. You can make it.
And never surrender…. the battle will be worth it, and we will win the war. I don’t wanna feel like this tomorrow I don’t wanna live like this today Make me feel better, I wanna feel better Stay with me here now and never surrender Never surrender
Ashley Kavanaugh attended public school during her elementary school years, but her parents later chose to homeschool her online when they joined the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs. She finished her senior year of high school at Heritage Christian Academy, the private school operated by that church. Her adopted father is an attorney, but she was the first person on her mother’s side of the family to finish high school and attend college. She is interested in studying psychology, forensics, and criminal justice.
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The following is part three of a three part guest series from Jerry Moon, a former United Pentecostal Church member. See Part 1 & Part 2.
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The pastor of the local United Pentecostal church had resigned the church and moved to another state. Over half the church had quit their jobs and moved out of state with him. Others that had left their church and followed him to Borger moved back to where they had come from. Maybe things would get better.
I had been reading and studying on bitterness. Bitterness can eat you up. I’d learned that asking for forgiveness was more for the person asking for forgiveness than the person being asked for forgiveness. I wrote a letter to the remaining members, asking them for forgiveness if I’d hurt them.
I got one reply to my letter. I was excited. What did it say? Excitedly, I opened the letter to find a typewritten letter. It said, “Jerry, I’ll never forgive you and you’ll never be welcome at our church.” I filed the letter next to another typewritten letter that was supposed to be a warning from God that I’d received a few months earlier.
I later was voted in as the secretary of the Apostolic Brotherhood International (ABI). As time went on, Bro. James Stephenson got Alzheimers. He and Dr. Marvin Arnold were so awesome. They made him honorary chairman to keep from hurting him. A new man took over.
I now had several differences with the ABI on the book of Revelation. I had explained these to Bro. Stephenson and we never had a problem with it. But after a change in command, I was confronted on these issues. Nothing was done about it. I could see the handwriting on the wall though. After camp I sent in my letter of resignation and stopped paying my dues.
I thought things would get better after the pastor left and took those saints to the other state. Thirty years later there are saints in the local UPC moving to that state to follow that church.
The next pastor was one that had been in Borger before, the one that had sent his wife’s son to her parents so that he wouldn’t hurt his ministry. Neither of them ever spoke to this child again. I invited him and his youth to come to our skating party. His reply was no thanks. Every time I’ve ever been skating I was drinking? My thought was, you can treat a child like that and then try to be holier than me? While he wouldn’t have anything to do with us while he was pastor, when he left, he asked if he could preach for us. I let him.
It seemed like the local UPC church had a new pastor every two years. The next pastor I didn’t know, but I tried to get to know him. I was never invited to their events. But once I got him to come to one of ours. After church he talked to several of our people, trying to convince them to leave us. Later he wanted to visit with me. I’m not sure why. He thought we were renting our storefront. When he found out it was paid in full, his meeting was over.
One pastor was into marshal arts. The very first thing he did was threaten me. Later he contacted me and told me God had impressed upon him one of us was out of the will of God. He wanted me to pray and fast that God would remove one of us. A couple weeks later I contacted him and told him my God wouldn’t let me pray that way. I’d been praying God would bless both of us. I’m the one still in Borger.
From my journey I feel I’ve learned and grown throughout my life. I’ve seen a lot.
My dad was sitting behind two brand new visitors to church once. One said to the other, “That’s the woman that was cheating with my husband. But she had uncut hair and wore dresses so she was able to hide her sin.”
I can show you ministers that have slept with other men’s wives, but yet hold license. Child molesters. Men who have been falsely accused and men that have been accused. Men that have turned away children. And a bunch of men that have forgotten how to love.
Yes, you may find all this in every organization. But this is the organization that gripped me. They think they have made the outside of the cup clean, but they have forgotten the inside of the cup. Thirty two years later nothing has changed but me. I’m not the man I used to be. I’ve grown more compassionate. My focus is the inside of the cup.
For years growing up in the UPC church I’ve heard, “You can leave anytime you want, but there is no other church in town you can go to and be saved.” And people believed it.
A few years ago, the guest speaker at an ABI camp told everyone his background was from the Catholic Church. He spoke of the walk with God that he had while in the Catholic Church, but over the years his walk with God has grown. That’s the way it should be. We all like to think that our church offers the biggest walk with God of any church out there.
Some like to think their church offers the only walk with God. But the truth is our walk with God is not the building or the organization. It’s not because your rules are better than someone else’s. If God doesn’t dwell in unclean temples, he wouldn’t be living in any of us.
While in the UPC, I sat under a pastor that claimed to be one of the prophets that Revelation says would die in the streets of Jerusalem. That pastor has passed away. It’s amazing that the UPC doesn’t do a thing to pastors that preach what is clearly false doctrine.
Many times while I was in the UPC I’ve seen different things that the pastor required the saints to sign. The papers would be on various things. Sometimes it was financial obligations. But most of the time it was on what they determined was a Biblical dress code. What they called holiness. Of course these holiness standards were always changing. Sometimes because of the trends in Hollywood, which was amazing because when I was in the UPC we were not allowed to have a TV. Other times they would change just because we got a new pastor.
One of the wildest that I saw was a paper that was supposed to be signed on what you were to wear to bed. I don’t know, maybe the pastor felt like there were too many babies in the church.
I never saw anyone’s feet being held to the fire because they signed such a paper, but I suppose that a person really should be careful when signing such a document. Looking back I have to wonder, did the disciples have to sign any papers to follow Jesus?
Twenty five years out on my journey out of the UPC, I thought I had endured all that the UPC could throw at me. People that attend the UPC see their denomination as a loving group. When reading a story like mine it’s hard for them to believe. But mine is not the only story out there.
I was wrong. A person in the UPC became my boss. I didn’t get involved when the guys I worked with laughed as he tried to teach them things like why he didn’t have a TV, why his wife didn’t cut her hair and why she only wore dresses. Out of sight, out of mind, was my motto.
I guess I wasn’t out of sight as much as I thought. My new UPC boss cost me my job. I was devastated. Over the years they have taught me one thing. True holiness comes from the inside, not the outside. A dear friend once told me, “Jerry, you’ve never been taught what to do as a pastor. You’ve only been taught what not to do.”
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The following is part two of a three part guest series from Jerry Moon, a former United Pentecostal Church member. See Part 1.
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Within weeks we started noticing a quite visible change in what we thought were our church friends. I had grown up in the United Pentecostal Church. Mother was raised UPC. My grandmother was UPC. All my friends were UPC. UPC was my life.
We began to notice when we went to the store, our friends would walk the other way to avoid us. Once I honked and waved at a older couple from our now former church and in unison they both turned their heads to look the other way.
I did have a couple of aunts that were UPC that were proud of me, but much of the family in the UPC treated me like my UPC friends did.
About three months after starting the church, my dad called me up. He wanted to know if we had room for another Moon in the church. He shared they were tired of hearing their boys being the sermon topic every service.
I now knew why everyone had been shunning us. Like the lies he had told when his son got a divorce, he was now telling them on us, to turn our friends against us. If possible he would have turned our own parents against us.
This is a tactic practiced by cults. The other members never want to leave because they don’t want to go through the same thing.
I’ve been told that the UPC would rather see people when they leave waste their life on a bar stool. They make good examples to the rest, of what happens to those that leave. It will happen to them if they leave. But what to do with those that don’t quit living for God?
I’ll remind you, at this point my life and preaching was still very much UPC. We just didn’t have UPC on our door. The only problem I had at that time was why the UPC was looking for the second coming of Christ when he was clearly living in us.
I had even subscribed to Irvin Baxter’s End Time Bible Studies so I could teach the book of Revelation correctly. But when I tried to teach his lessons, I always hoped no one would ask questions.
Dr. Marvin Arnold preached our first anniversary service. When I joined the Biblical Apostolic Organization (BAO), I explained my only problem with the doctrine. He had no problem with it. He has went on to be with the Lord since then, but his books are still on the internet.
When I shared this on my Facebook profile, there were comments that not all UPC churches are this way. They are right. There were two churches in the Texaco District that didn’t treat us this way.
One was a pastor that I later found out had big problems of his own. But despite it all, I’m grateful for the kindness he showed. And I’m grateful for the renewed friendship of late. Because of that, this is where I leave this.
The other was my wife’s pastor. He never turned his back on us to the day he went to be with Jesus. These two men were a encouragement to me.
I had various UPC ministries from around the States that preached for us and encouraged us. No, they are not all like this.
My wife’s pastor eventually left the UPC. He joined a little organization called the Apostolic Brotherhood International. He asked me to join as well and for a while I was a part of both the ABI and the BAO. These two groups then talked about merging, but never did.
Shortly after starting the church we were getting quite a group of young people. Growing up, church camp was a big part of my life. I wanted the best for our youth.
I went to Amarillo and met with a board member and talked to them about letting our youth come to the UPC Church Camp. I was saddened to hear that our youth were not welcome at their youth camp. It was quite shocking to me. I had always assumed everyone was welcome to go to heaven. But obviously this wasn’t the case. We later found a place for them to go to camp with another group.
When I went to the very first ABI camp meeting, I met an interesting preacher. He came up to me and introduced himself. After introducing himself and where he lived, he looked at me and said, “You may have known my dad. He used to pastor in Borger, Texas.”
My mind begin to whirl and I could tell by the way he was looking at me something was up. I finally told him I didn’t know a pastor in Borger by his last name, thinking that maybe his dad pastored a Baptist Church or some other denomination.
When he told me his dad’s name I was shocked. He at one time had been my pastor. One of those hard core, by the book kinda pastors. The kind you were scared to breath around types.
He begin to tell me a story. His mom had him out of wedlock. When his dad and her got married, his dad thought it best that her grandparents raise him and he carried his mothers maiden name. They then had nothing to do with him because his father was afraid that he would hurt his ministry.
I was floored. It was at this point that I begin to think, “Maybe I’m too good for that organization.” My journey began to get easier.
I’m not sure why, but it was just me and my dad who went to the local UPC church to a fellowship meeting. They had invited a preacher that had written a Bible Study and he was supposed to teach how to get and give these Bible studies.
Problem was he had just seen a great revelation. He kept getting off the subject and talking about red heifers and such. You could tell the ministry didn’t like it. They were squirming in their seats. He finally told them, “I know what I was called here to teach. But this is what God has given me. You don’t even have to pay me if you don’t want.” What a sermon.
A few months went by and I decided I needed to understand Revelation if I was going to continue pastoring. I had already tried pastor Baxter of Endtime. While I thought it was great stuff, it didn’t make any sense. I’ll try this new guy and if that don’t work, I’ll go back to Baxter.
I invited him back to Borger, promised him I would treat him better than his last experience and when he was through preaching the weekend, he hadn’t said a word about Revelation. I was upset.
Before I took him back to the airport I mentioned this to him. He said, “Brother Moon, get a book called Matthew 24 Fulfilled by John Bray.” The rest was history. I begin to climb out of a doctrine that I had believed was true all my life. My experience with God had just begun.
The next year after reading Matthew 24 Fulfilled was one of most amazing years of my life. I was blessed to have my dad share this experience with me. He had always been such a great teacher.
For the next year I felt like I was on a high. I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a scripture on my mind, thinking that’s what that scripture means.
I don’t know how many sermons I had to re-preach. After preaching something, I’d later realize that wasn’t what it meant at all. My new way of viewing Revelation was affecting my whole Bible.
Sometimes dad would push me along, other times I would push dad along. During the middle of a sermon I’ll never forget dad looking at me funny. I knew I missed the boat. I’d stop and reexamine the verse. Sure enough, I was off base.
After that first year I gave up my old UPC phrase I’d learned. I used to say while preaching, “We’ve got the truth.” My revelation had changed so much in the last year, I finally told our church that I can no longer preach we have the truth. I can only claim, we are trying to walk in the truth.
Not everyone shared my newfound joy for the word. Dr. Marvin Arnold was in bad health. He turned the reigns over to a newcomer into the BAO. He had been told of my new ideas.
I got a call one day and was told I was no longer in the BAO. I was also told to change the name of our church. I stopped sending my dues that day, but I wasn’t changing our name without a battle. I contacted a lawyer. We are still Biblical Apostolic Church.
The last I heard the BAO is no longer a organization. If you expect everyone to just believe like you, it will eventually just be you.
The following is part one of a three part guest series from Jerry Moon, a former United Pentecostal Church member.
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While I was thirty two years old when I actually left the United Pentecostal Church, I would have left sooner had some other circumstances not come up. Looking back, maybe I should have taken advantage of the situation, but I was trying to do things right. I didn’t realize that any way I did it was going to be considered wrong. I didn’t even tell my wife or family what I was going to do.
A year or two before I left, the pastor’s son got a divorce. In a effort to make his son look good in his divorce, the pastor started preaching about it. How it wasn’t his son’s fault and how she was at fault. The problem was, that about thirty members of the church was kin to the little gal. They all packed up and left. I waited for things to settle down so I wouldn’t get the blame for a church split. But all is fair in love and war. I was blamed anyway for those leaving, even though I waited.
I had been praying hard about what I was going to do. I had put a list of what I thought was an impossible task before God. He not only fulfilled these tasks, but went above and beyond what I asked of him.
One of the items on my list was I felt I needed a license. I’ve since learned that in Texas one is not necessary. I had told God in my prayers that if I could get one with the UPC, I would throw it all out and just submit to what I was in. After all, at this point, despite what I had been through growing up, I still had a UPC mindset. I never got over the hurdles to ever even apply for a license with the UPC, but I did get hold of a small organization called the Biblical Apostolic Organization. Dr. Marvin Arnold was over it. A very kind ex-UPC minister that had been kicked out of the UPC for writing a book Pentecost Before Azusa. I thank him for the kindness he showed.
In the period between getting license with the Biblical Apostolic Organization and leaving the UPC, I got a phone call. A pastor in another town wanted to have lunch with me. I went, not knowing what he wanted.
He began to explain that he wanted me to come to his church and be the music minister. He explained that he couldn’t afford to pay me, but promised that any tithe that I paid in would be given back to me as salary. While it sounded tempting, I’ve been through and seen enough bad things in the ministry to realize this might not be a good thing. Besides all that, what this pastor was trying to do was highly unethical. I’ve seen so many bad things in the ministry that I’m now afraid to tell someone that I’m even a preacher. He knew it was unethical. He asked me not to tell anyone.
God sometimes goes above and beyond what we ask for. One night at McDonald’s after church, we were sitting at a table with a man and wife that was older than us. Let me remind you that no one knew what I was working on. I hadn’t even discussed this with my wife. I wasn’t too surprised when he looked at me and said, “What this town needs is another church.” I just nodded in agreement. Then he looked me in the eye and said, “God told me you’re the man.”
When I left McDonald’s that night I knew this wasn’t something that had leaked out. You had to to tell someone to have a leak and I hadn’t told anyone. I tried my best to act surprised, like this was news to me. But he added fuel to an already burning fire.
Another prayer I had been praying was to provide us a church. Ironic that I didn’t want to start in a storefront, but now we own a storefront. God provided. The Church of God of Prophecy put their building up for sale and they even financed it for us.
We later sold this little church and bought a storefront. The last UPC preacher that came by to explain how wrong we were was surprised to learn we owned free and clear our little storefront. God is a provider.
The last service I was in before I left the United Pentecostal Church couldn’t have been anymore God ordained. I was the youth minister of the church. Keep in mind that up to this night no one knew what I was fixing to do.
I’ll never forget what the pastor preached. The topic was what do you want to do for Christ. I couldn’t stand up and tell what God had laid on my heart like every one else was doing because that wasn’t the appropriate place to do it. But you can imagine my shock with me sitting there, when the former youth minister announced that he wanted to be the youth minister again.
After service I went in and told the pastor what I wanted to do. And that night the former youth pastor’s wish was met. He was the youth minister again.
When I left, I didn’t split the church. I took my brother and his wife, who would have left already had it not been for me asking them to wait because I was working on something. My brother had gone through a divorce and let me tell you, ex’s going to the same church doesn’t work very well.
That last night at my UPC church was the first time to reveal what I was doing to anyone. So far so good, or so I thought.
Next I told my wife, my brother and his wife. My wife was nervous. Then I told my parents. My dad assured me they were behind our new adventure, but that they were going to stay at the UPC church. His excuse was that he didn’t want people to see it as a family thing. I knew it was because they now had so much invested in the building. But I wasn’t telling them to try to get them to go with me. In fact, I was glad they were staying. I wanted a clean break.
I told the pastor of the Spanish UPC church. We had been friends for years and I wanted to keep their friendship. I told the oldest elder in the church. Years ago he had a dream that a young church rose up out of the older church. I felt his dream was coming to pass. He didn’t seem to share my excitement.
Do you know what it’s like when
