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Pacing in the empty nursery downstairs, my mind raced through the hundreds of hours of research, anxiously attempting to recall the very details around the time we finally ordered our tickets. “How could we have missed something as significant as an election?!” Nevertheless, we could not change the past, and Doug Stauffer had just announced his verdict about our ticket situation after returning from a supposed win at “The Great Rapture Debate” in Colorado. He told my husband, Matthew Olds (Matt), “You didn’t do your homework.”

The fire started boiling inside of me as I imagined the dissertation, but I believe it was the Holy Spirit that reminded me that we bought those tickets by faith. We bought them not knowing where our family would actually stay when we arrived, but we held firmly to the belief that the same God who had called us to Zambia was able to work out everything according to His good pleasure. The Lord continued to flood my mind with His countless miracles over the last several months, pivotal moments in which God had proved Himself faithful in our lives and worked in ways beyond our wildest imagine! And yet, at a time when our faith was being tested again, there was Douglas Stauffer, the man Pastor encouraged us to seek counsel from, now firmly purporting that our plans and our research were done in ignorance, and without appropriate investigation.

**Names marked with an asterisk (*) have been changed for the privacy of individuals and their families**

Ignoring the Proof

Despite the poor internet reception in the downstairs nursery (near the pastor’s office), we finally found our saved copy of the Zambian Embassy’s calendar, proving that the upcoming election was not listed even a few months’ back. Matt immediately raced out of the nursery doors and presented the document to Stauffer, but as Matt and Stauffer walked into Pastor Ray’s office just moments later- I was with the children in the nursery- Stauffer proceeded to announce first-thing, “I told Matt that he did not do his homework, but that wasn’t a nice thing to say.” We were essentially caught off guard, despite our belief that Stauffer was a prideful and arrogant man, because we never presumed that Stauffer’s ego would manifest into such an under-handed blow! Unfortunately, Stauffer’s purposeful misleading continued throughout the entirety of the meeting with Pastor Andrew Ray.

Matt followed by presenting our case, humbly admitting that we eagerly bought the tickets shortly after the Lord provided the funds. We had considered the calendar and the drastic season-changes in Zambia, but failed in specifically seeking the Lord’s direction about the exact dates to travel. Stauffer, of course, continued to attack our situation with his concerns, questioning if changing the dates of the trip would not still be futile considering the unknown duration of the rioting, while Matt simply presented what the missionaries in Zambia had advised us to do. Thankfully, Pastor Ray suggested that they call Mitchell Dickens*, a missionary our church supported in Zambia who was currently state-side, but Mitchell Dickens* was unavailable to answer at the time. Following the attempted phone call, Douglas Stauffer then instructed suggested that Matt email Mitchell Dickens* about the situation, as if it were Matt’s responsibility to verify his innocence, or rather, his assumed ignorance.

We understood Stauffer and Pastor Ray’s questions, particularly as we questioned ourselves as to how we could have missed the existence of an election, and why it was not listed on the Zambian Embassy calendar just a few months prior, but within a few days of the meeting, Brother Dickens* responded back, supporting the other missionaries’ advice to change the dates or land somewhere else other than the capital on election day. He further explained why the embassy did not provide prior notice about the elections on the Embassy website:

“With my experience with Zambian elections and being in Lusaka even around election time (not on the very day), I wouldn’t recommend to fly in there on Election Day. The reason there wasn’t prior notice about what day Election Day would be is because it’s not like the USA’s set date in November. Parliament votes on what day Election Day will be with each election and the ruling party sets the date at a time it feels would be most advantageous for them to stay in power (this is the British way of doing it and Zambia has kept that system).”

Matt and I were relieved after reading Brother Dickens’* response a few days later, but Stauffer’s deceitfulness in the meeting had not stopped there. His false allegations transitioned toward the missionaries with whom we planned to stay with during our trip.

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: Douglas Stauffer Twists the Truth” or click on the link below.

For a list of the complete series, click here.

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If Douglas Stauffer was as dangerous as I had internally questioned, would not our pastor or the men at our church have had the wisdom to discern such a froward spirit? Even if people did recognize his haughtiness, were we not not to be one body, working together in our respective strengths to accomplish God’s work? We were not each beset with our own weaknesses and sin nature, but still behooved by Scripture to be gracious, knowing that God looketh on the heart? It was not until 2016, at a time before my family had ever personally witnessed or experienced the vast extent of Stauffer’s destructive nature, that we realized Stauffer essentially camouflaged his true nature in plain sight for all to see.  Just two months before our Zambia trip that year, Douglas Stauffer showed his true colors after Pastor Andrew Ray sent us his direction, as head of missions, for his analysis of our flight situation with the upcoming election. Little did we know that Stauffer had no qualms with twisting the truth, and that my family was suddenly in the cross-hairs.

A Dire Situation

At the beginning of June when several missionaries responded back, they informed us of violent protests taking place across Zambia because of the upcoming election. Properties were being destroyed, lives were being lost, and our tickets landed us directly in the capital on election day. The missionaries strongly suggested that we either alter our trip dates, or change the final flight destination to a large city a few hours north of the capital. When we called the flight agency, however, the representatives informed us that the insurance we had paid for with our tickets only covered medical emergencies, not political unrest, and it would cost several hundred dollars per ticket to change either the location or the date, plus whatever additional fees the agency required in the process. We were suddenly looking at needing several thousand dollars more, on top of the original ticket costs, during the same month that we were paying for the vaccinations costs as well.

As we prayed, knowing that God had worked through every circumstance thus far, we remembered that Pastor Andrew Ray had said to let him know if we needed help with any expenses. My husband, Matthew Olds (Matt), humbly spoke with Pastor Andrew Ray, asking for financial assistance to protect our family. Looking back, it would have been disheartening if Pastor Ray had simply said our church was unable to help us, but we would have just continued to pray and wait for God to work. Much to our dismay, however, Pastor Ray directed us to go through Douglas Stauffer for his analysis on if our church could help our family or not, and to what extent.

Claws Beneath the Wool

Over the course of the next several weeks, Matt brought data and information to Stauffer about the situation and potential costs. Stauffer would then ask more questions, and Matt would return with the exact answers until one evening in late June, just prior to meeting with Pastor Ray and Stauffer about the financial situation, when Stauffer finally shared his opinion: “You didn’t do your homework.” As we frantically searched through our files for proof of our research, we had no idea what Stauffer had planned for the coming meeting with Pastor Andrew Ray.

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: Douglas Stauffer’s Deceitful Misleading” or click on the link below.

For a list of the complete series, click here.

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

**Names marked with an asterisk (*) have been changed for the privacy of individuals and their families**

When Doctor’s Shrug

Researching online today (2020), documents, studies and even recent evaluations about the yellow-fever vaccine and breastfeeding are readily available, likely because of the push toward “Breast is Best.” Four year ago, however, it was nigh impossible to find the details of documented cases with nurslings, but the Lord had already opened the door for contact with multiple International Board Lactation Consultants (IBCLC) and several doctors who were knowledgeable about breastfeeding because of those many years of struggling with breastfeeding that I NEVER thought I would be thankful for! Though the lack of published documentation about the transfer of the yellow-fever vaccine through breast milk yielded more questions than answers, each doctor was able to provide new pieces to the puzzle which aided us toward a clearer answer. We continued to research and pray, knowing that God already knew the answers, until one evening, while scouring the internet for any credible data, the Lord finally guided us to the very cases used as evidence to support not administering the yellow-fever vaccine to nursing mothers!

As it turns out, the only documented cases in nurslings that were adversely affected (yellow-fever encephalitis, etc.) by their mothers receiving the yellow-fever vaccine involved newborns who died within a month of the mother receiving the vaccine. Our little Annabelle*, though a nursling, was going to be nine-months-old by the time we went for our travel immunization appointment, the exact minimum age for receiving the yellow-fever vaccine. If Annabelle* was medically old enough to receive it herself, though not required yet in Zambia until age one, why would it be dangerous for the vaccine to pass through breast milk, except in the possible case of her dose, plus mine, overloading her system? We continued to work with the medical professionals until we all reached the safest conclusion: I would receive the yellow-fever vaccine, not Annabelle*, and my breast milk would provide her with the antibodies my body created in reaction to the yellow-fever vaccine. We were relieved, but we also knew we were not entirely out of the woods, yet.

Our Miraculous God

When we arrived at our travel immunization appointment, we respectfully showed the nurses the clearly-listed requirement for the yellow-fever vaccine on the Zambian Embassy’s website, but they still could not administer it to our family because it went against the recommendations of the Center for Disease Control (CDC). We followed up in the room by calling the Zambian Embassy, as we had already done over a month prior at home to verify the requirement, and then requested that the nurse come over and speak with the Zambian embassy in D.C. directly. Afterwards, she left for what felt like years, but then came back with the vaccinations and blank certificates we required for the trip! God was faithful, and once again, He answered our prayers in ways that we NEVER could have imagined.

Looking back, God’s hand was evident every step of the way, from finding out that most of the vaccination costs were covered, to keeping Brendon* safe when his neck spasmed up a week after receiving the yellow fever vaccine. The Lord miraculously corrected a prescription note mistake at no cost to us, and then provided just the right pediatrician before the trip to advise us about using jelly packets to help our children ingest their anti-malaria medication! This does not even begin to cover how he provided for the international medical insurance, the approval from a sleep doctor for my husband’s CPAP to be on the plane, or the process of getting my medication authorized for the plane in case of an allergic reaction!

God had been so good to us, and we rested in that knowledge as we continued to wait and pray for God to somehow work through the situation with our tickets and the dangerous protests erupting in Zambia with the upcoming election. Our faith had been tried, our resources spent, and we were exhausted already, but we encouraged each other to keep our eyes focused on the Lord, knowing that the God who parted the Red Sea and made dry bones talk could handle this situation, also. The last thing we expected, however, was for Douglas Stauffer to become the next major roadblock on our way to Africa.

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: Sent to the Wolf, Unaware” or click on the link below.

For a list of the complete series, click here.

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It seems it happens nearly every time I need work contracted on my house. At least one estimate, generally from a contractor I like, comes back with a fish symbol or a “God bless!” or a bunch of praying hand emoticons.

There’s nothing wrong with these… except this is a business, and the businesses I worked with in the past who used God as a sales tactic… generally were closer to being in league with the devil. Seriously, those businesses that tended to advertise as “Christian owned and operated” or otherwise indicated their faith as part of their business model lied, cheated, took advantage, and sometimes left me with more problems than I started with.

The worst was the HVAC man. He was a guy in my former church. A preacher, one of those in the ‘inner circle,’ one of those people whom the pastor bragged about and told others to respect. Good guy? Well, I was told he was. “Keep business in the church.” “Use him, he’ll give you a deal because you’re a sister.” I asked him to install a new AC unit for me. He ordered it, had me pay, and put it in my basement. He did NOT hook it up, though he’d promised to. A year later when I was trying to sell my house… it was STILL IN THE BASEMENT. The pastor finally did intervene, but it was a very stressful situation for me and even then, the man tried to shame me for wanting it installed. AFTER A YEAR. No one else would even touch the install, because they hadn’t ordered it… and apparently because it was nearly too old to meet the new rules for installing.

Another time, tree trimmers came. Good church members, always so helpful. They cut the tree down for me, but when I told them that yes, they could leave some of the trunk for a table and could leave some firewood for my fire pit, they left the ENTIRE trunk, in one piece, in the middle of the yard. I called and asked about it and they said I’d asked them to leave it, and what did I want them to do, now that it was there? It was too large to handle once it was laying on the ground, because it was huge. Well, a trunk 12+ feet long and over four feet in diameter at the base is too big for firewood OR a table, too!

There were other situations like this, from people within my former church… and unfortunately people from other churches too. Today it was a concrete contractor. The estimate came in with “God bless!” and immediately I had a gut feeling. I started digging in and researching more, and searching for some references that he did NOT solicit. Unfortunately, they were all one-star-never-again bad. And unfortunately it began to be apparent that most of the good reviews were associated with a single church and a single job, done for the cost of materials only, for one local church. It’s hard not to leave a good review for one job done at cost, with free labor. You’d almost think it was an advertising ploy.

Over time I’ve learned, leaving a card with “A Christian owned business” emblazoned as the byline, or a flyer or website with a fish symbol or cross on it, or email or text communications ending in “God bless,” or worse, with little Christianese emoticons (emoticons are not professional communication – double warning sign!) on them, is a reason to beware. Those have been the businesses in my experience that were least likely to treat people right. It’s almost like they expect those things to sell their business… and get those who solicit their business to back them even when they’re bad. They remind me of abusive pastors in that way.

Churches aren’t the only ones who spiritually abuse or take advantage of people ‘in Jesus’ name.’ Too bad God doesn’t sue people for slander, using his name in vain like that.

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As a teen, before I ever went to a Pentecostal church, it started. I even remember where it started, outside my immediate family, and who it started with.

“Mary, look at his butt on the court!”
“Umm… OK”
“Don’t you think that’s sexy?!?!”
“Not particularly. He’s just a guy in shorts.”
“What, are you gay?”

Actually, I seriously doubt my response had anything to do with being gay. It was a bunch of scrawny teen boys on a court. We were in the balcony. We saw them every day, and I simply had no interest in them in general because I DID know them. The same ones who threw snowballs with rocks in them at me. The same ones who followed me down the halls trying to grab me inappropriately. No, why would anyone be interested in that?

The girl who asked was supposed to be my friend, but she was a bully… and she had a strong influence from Pentecostal churches herself. She treated me incredibly poorly throughout junior high and high school. And no one really noticed. Definitely no one, to my knowledge, ever tried to stop her.

I didn’t have but one boyfriend in high school, and he was a jerk. I enjoyed going out alone much more than being with a guy who snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground behind him, expecting me to follow him. And so the questions continued in my small school. Usually quietly, but always from the same group when they arose, and generally at times when everything seemed to be going well for me otherwise.

I didn’t associate it with church or religion at the time.

In college, I joined a United Pentecostal church. Before I was even a member, the comments started.

“We wouldn’t have even known you were a girl, your hair short and you wearing pants like that.”
“Maybe you should wear a padded bra.”
“You just look so much like a boy!”

They’d tell me that I should spend more time with the ladies, but the ladies wouldn’t accept me and I didn’t relate well to their gender-divided culture. My parents and grandparents all shared work for the most part and interests and clothing colors weren’t divided by gender. I’d never been discouraged for learning to use hand tools or helping Dad work on the car (well, except maybe by Dad since my help usually led to extra work!) or playing cards “with the guys” rather than sitting in the living room “with the women.” We could choose what we wanted to do and who we wanted to be. We played with toy cars sometimes as well as dolls. There weren’t ‘boy colors’ and ‘girl colors’. (A church would later preach that if a man wore pink he was effeminate.) I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or get my hair done or go on shopping trips; my parents often told those things were too expensive or I didn’t need them.

But at church… around these new friends, there was ‘something wrong’ with me if I didn’t fall right in line with a very different culture, one where women separated from the men and kept to themselves, where hair and clothes were a really big deal and actually part of identity, and shopping trips were not just a thing to do once in a while, but actual events. Big events. Out of town, overnight, look-forward-to-this events. I didn’t get it then and I don’t get it now. And yet repeatedly I was labeled or shamed because I didn’t conform. And often my sexuality or sexual orientation were questioned.

I never married and people now ask why. I never met a man in church who could look past the labels and see me, respect me, and love me. And so being single became a very good thing, because who’d want to marry someone who couldn’t?

Did their labels or shaming change me? Yes, but I believe for the better. The labels didn’t change who I was, nor did they force me to conform, but in time they did increase my empathy and acceptance of others. I guess all their efforts backfired on them. And I’m glad.

Shaming and labeling… the tools of any unhealthy group to force conformity and/or to dehumanize those who are different in order to isolate them. It’s easier to hurt “the gay” or “the Jezebel” or “sinners” of whatever sort than it is to hurt “Mary” or “Joe” or “Jane.” Mary and Joe and Jane are people with their own lives and stories, but “sinners” are “bad people”. And so, they shame to try to force conformity and when that doesn’t work, it’s a short jump to labeling… and it is much easier to bully, to shame, to isolate and mistreat “those bad people” than a human being. It is also easier to label them “bad” than to consider there might be another way than their own to exist. And sometimes… sometimes they’re simply jealous. After all, it must be frustrating and even frightening to think that the people they’ve labeled “bad” are happy, free, and confident individuals, especially if they are freer, happier, and more confident than those who are doing the labeling.

If you’ve been shamed or labeled, be encouraged. Don’t accept the labels and don’t try to conform. Instead, simply become a better person as a result of them, and keep being the wonderful individual you are meant to be. God made you YOU. And even if you are the girl who likes the pixie cut or the guy who enjoys wearing pink, be you. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re exactly who God made you to be.

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