Category: friendship | Page 2 | Spiritual Abuse Blogs

Blue Christmas

I went to a different kind of Christmas service tonight, a Blue Christmas service. The concept is to acknowledge that not everyone finds this to be a joyous season for a variety of reasons, and to give those people experiencing loneliness and loss the opportunity for a time of “remembrance and reflection.” And for this year, it was more meaningful than pretty much any other service I could probably have attended.

There were only two Christmas songs. The music was a man playing guitar and a woman singing along. Simple. Calm.

I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. Things at work, mainly. I thought. But there’s more to it. As the service progressed tonight, we were called to remember those we had lost. It wasn’t this job and the people who’ve sent messages there that I’m not a part of the team that I remembered.

Seven years ago in 2009 I lost my church, and every friend I had there, plus every friend I thought I had or wanted so badly to have. I lost hope that I would ever fit in there, that I would ever be accepted. I lost confidence in myself, and I lost faith to a degree as well. Not at first, but over time, year in and year out as I faced additional rejection in nearly every church I attended, through three moves and five job changes, and finally even from some of those friends I’d thought I made since leaving who called themselves Christian. And now at work, while a coworker who sits near me says the same things I heard in church: ‘You’ve got to trust God and just leave it in his hands. You can’t care what’s happening. Toughen up.’ Don’t feel. Don’t care. Don’t love? Wait, that’s not God. When did Christianity come to this place?

There is nothing wrong with hurting when people hurt us. And when people hurt us, it’s not because God wanted them to. That would mean God wanted them to sin, because that would mean God wanted them to do something unloving.

I’m not sure I ever allowed myself to completely grieve the loss of the friends I left behind in my former church. I miss them. I want to know what’s happening to them. I definitely haven’t given myself an opportunity to grieve the loss of the positive things I left behind in my former church. So perhaps the fact that I haven’t felt like celebrating this Christmas is a good thing, a way to move forward. And then maybe I can celebrate again.

Sure, the music was contemporary and that surprised me. But they sang my favorite (Mary Did You Know) and a few others. It was just all around fun, and everyone was very friendly.”

Living free

I went to a baby shower at a church I’ve been visiting this weekend. I’ve been to lots of baby showers in the church, hated them, and felt guilty for hating them. This one was totally different.

On Thursday, I emailed one of the ladies in charge and asked her if she’d like me to bring a tray of food. She replied they’d forgotten the food, and that would be wonderful, then asked what I would be bringing. I replied briefly a veggie tray and maybe a fruit tray. She said great.

In Pentecostal churches, I have been intimidated to bring food to anything for a long time. What I brought to carry ins was rarely eaten. Ladies would tell me how to improve it, or remind me that they preferred more spices or more meat, or less fat or higher quality ingredients. What I brought to bake sales was set aside on the back corner of the table. My things rarely sold. What a waste of time, effort, and money!

So I went and bought the food for the trays. She hadn’t put limitations or expectations on me, so I was able to be more creative, and wasn’t so worried about what I got. I don’t have to impress these people, after all. If they need impressing, I’ll go somewhere else. It was fun choosing items for the trays, for a change. No agonizing over what fruit would be perfect or whether Sis Snooty would think there was enough. Just fun, making choices and considering what they would enjoy most.

When I got home, I was surprised to realize I had enough for three trays. Crackers and cheese. Veggies. Fruit. Each tray was filled with the things that would keep over night. Then on Saturday I put the remaining foods in their proper slots-even a slot for marshmallows, just for fun, and because I knew any kids that came would enjoy them.

My former church ladies would have had a fit. The grapes weren’t the freshest. They weren’t the largest. There were marshmallows in the fruit tray, and some were quartered regular sized ones, so they were a little sticky. The apples hadn’t been treated with lemon juice. Etc.

The ladies yesterday were just happy to be there. They complimented the trays, and laughed about how much they enjoyed the marshmallows. They chose foods politely, rather than piling their plates high and hoping there would be enough left over for people at the end of the line. They ate everything they chose- nothing was shunned as not good enough once tasted. No one complained about anything at all. It was absolutely amazing, and it was wonderful.

Then came the gifts. Oh, I hated choosing gifts for events in my former church. Once, a lady stopped me in Walmart, looked in my cart, and asked if that was what I was taking to the shower. She asked what else I was buying. I told her that was it. She proceeded to tell me that I needed a pricier brand and bigger box of diapers, took mine away and put her choice in my cart! What an interesting way to be helpful… though I know that’s what she thought she was being. At showers, gifts were always compared. Pricey gifts were expected. Brand names were a must.

Yesterday, gifting was different, too. Each gift was praised for it’s own merit. None was compared to another. None was shoved aside. All were passed around, admired, enjoyed by everyone, and placed neatly in the center of the table, together- not according to who gave what or what was deemed best, but as one large group of gifts, all respected, all admired. None was shoved on the floor or cast into a chair to one side. All were gratefully received.

Again, I was amazed. I have hated showers all my adult life. My gifts were never good enough, pricey enough… never the right brand or the right quality. But this weekend it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that there was a baby coming, and that we could celebrate the coming birth together. Not as family, but as friends, all in our own ways and with our abilities. And isn’t that, after all, the way the family of God should be?

To my former church family

I know that some people from my former church would misunderstand some of what I’ve written. Please at least read this entry, if you ever think you’ve found me here.

For everyone else who might read, if you find yourself in a good place, be thankful. If you have been hurt, there is a place you can find strength and healing. You are not alone.

It grieves me that people from my former church would think I ‘backslid.’ There is nothing in my past to go back to, so in leaving, I can’t have ‘backslid.’ It disturbs me that you (former church family) can’t know what happened that required me to leave, but if I were to tell you I would quite possibly hurt you. That isn’t my intent, so I’ve chosen not to discuss what happened.

If anyone from my former church reads these and knows who I am, please understand, I don’t want to put any doubts in your minds. These blogs are to help put faith back in my mind, not to put doubt in yours. So if any of you from my former church are reading, please understand that I love you and I love God. I didn’t want to leave your church, but I didn’t have another option that would allow me to keep my integrity.

I wrote a farewell letter but never sent it to some of my closest friends in church. If any of you happen to read this and think you know who I am, please read it and consider what I’ve said:

There isn’t an easy way to say this, but I have to say goodbye. I’ve wept to consider leaving good people like you. I wanted to say goodbye personally, but doing that could cause conflict for you. I can’t say why I’m leaving, but please understand- I didn’t feel there was any other choice.

Your kindness, thoughtfulness, smiles, and encouragement have meant a lot to me. Thank you. I’ve been told several times that my only reasons for staying were carnal ones. That’s not true. I stayed here because of my faith in God, and because of a few good friends like you. Just because I stop coming to a certain building doesn’t mean the end of our friendship in my eyes.

Please understand that whether we can talk and visit or not, I am grateful for the good memories we share. I know leaving will cause you conflict and heartache- I know, because it has caused me conflict and heartache too. I wish I could have stayed, but I want you to know that my line and door are always open. I still consider you friends, I will always remember you with love.

~Mary

Trust Issues

After my initial fear of her, I came to adore my first grade teacher. She seemed to reciprocate that feeling throughout my first grade year. That summer, I missed her and at the beginning of the next school year, I couldn’t wait to see her. First chance was at recess and I happily ran up to give her a hug; she stopped me cold- “you aren’t in first grade anymore so you are not mine!” And pointing to my 2nd grade teacher, she said “now you belong to Mrs. Jones.” I remember walking off sorrowfully. I never trusted Mrs. Jones and never fell in love with her. I don’t even remember what she looked like.

My best friend cousin was just 3 weeks older than me. We were inseparable. When we were 8, she was killed in a freak train accident. I never had another friend as ‘best’ as Vicky.

When I was 10 we moved away. I missed my little neighborhood friend. We had done all kinds of mischief together. A few weeks later we visited the people renting our old house. Their daughter and my neighborhood friend played together as if I wasn’t even there.

The die was cast, for the rest of my life, trust would be hard for me. It didn’t help that I was in a legalistic church group that tied friendship to performance and forbid or discouraged it at will of the leadership.

To counteract what I feel is an unhealthy distrust of others, I am stalwart in my loyalty. I stand by a friend even if I never see them for years at a time and even if they are not as faithful to the friendship, as long as they are not mean, cruel, or ‘two-faced’ with me.

This past week I again encountered this phenomenon. My former director and I were very close but with both of us receiving promotions, she has moved on. As I walked cheerfully up to renew our friendship, it was obvious the relationship has changed. I later was told to limit our friendship because of business politics. Well, she made that easy- she probably got the message first and chose the easy way out. I would have limited the business side but fought for the friendship.

Anyway, as I tried to reason my way through what happened, these thoughts came to mind. I am stronger for what I have lived through. I don’t expect too much of others. I love and sincerely appreciate small kindnesses more than people realize.

I am happy and blessed and thankful for the ability to understand myself and why I am who I am.

It helps to put it in writing.

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Broken Friendships

Its been hard for me, knowing that people will refuse to remain friends if I “backslide”. But I haven’t backslid. I have simply stopped going to a certain building a few times a week. If I had a friend that told me they wouldn’t talk to me unless I shopped in Walmart, I wouldn’t consider that person much of a friend. Same with these now- I’m still there for them if they want me, but its their choice whether to express friendship to me or not. I’m not responsible for their actions. My decision was simply to stop going to a certain place. I didn’t walk out on God or them, but just did what was best for me. Now its their choice what they do. Doesn’t make losing them easier, but it would have been harder to lose God, and that’s where I was headed.

Relationships in the church seemed so shallow. I always thought it was just me, that I couldn’t connect, maybe I was less spiritual or just shallow myself. More than likely those were not the reasons for shallow relationships though.

In the church, we were told that getting hurt in church was worse than most hurts in the world, because the church was our “family” and we were “so close”. I wasn’t close to them though. Not the way I was to family and friends growing up. To me being close means being able to laugh with people, to play games, to just be together without wondering if they would think I was “carnal”. Closeness to someone means being able to relax around them, to “let your hair down” and just be yourself.

Its nice to think I might meet some people that aren’t weighing every word I say, judging every move. I need friends. The kind of friends who are there at your roughest times to pick you back up, to love you. They are simply there. They seem to know when you need that encouraging word, that helping hand, that smile or hug. And they give it without hesitation, no matter what you’ve done or what others have said. I want friends like that, and I want to be a friend like that. Have I got some friends like that? I’m working on it. True friendships take time. But they’re worth it.

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