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This is only open to those with a USA mailing address. Warning: For those who might be offended, the first chapter is sexually explicit but can be avoided, though there are some other brief mentions. For those who may all too easily dismiss and not read this memoir because the author is no longer a Christian, I believe that would be a mistake. There are things you could learn, especially what not to do in raising your child(ren). People leave the United Pentecostal Church all the time and some of those walk away from Christianity. If you would learn of the author’s childhood and what she endured, perhaps you would gain some insight as to why. Whether anyone chooses to believe it or not, the truth is that many preacher’s kids have walked away from the UPCI and their teachings.

The quotes in this article are taken from the book.

The United Pentecostal Church did not fool around when it came to outlining the rules. Daily life was defined by the forbidden, the church’s claws reached far beyond mandatory attendance twice on Sundays and once on Wednesday night. Maintaining a sense of separateness from the world was easily accomplished as our appearance announced our affiliation wherever we went. Strict decrees regarding entertainment and leisure activities also set us apart. Church members were not allowed to play or watch sports of any kind; card playing, television, and movies were absolutely forbidden, secular books and music severely limited. Association with non-church members, including neighbors and family, was discouraged. All of these parameters were designed to keep us saved and to ward off temptation and thus, Satan himself.

This is your chance to receive a new copy of The Uncomfortable Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid by Ronna Russell. Two copies will be given away. The book was released this month and is the author’s first. Selling for just under $18, there is a Kindle version available for only $5.99. Uncomfortable Confessions covers her upbringing in the United Pentecostal Church, of which her detached father, Donald Wayne Fisher, was a licensed minister.

Born in 1939, Don Fisher was very involved in the UPCI starting in his childhood and he held many positions throughout the years. He left home at the age of 14 to attend a UPC school that was hundreds of miles away. He was an assistant pastor at more than one church, a home missionary to Alaska, a pastor for a couple years and he worked in the Youth and Foreign Missions Divisions.  He was the founder/editor of Word Aflame Publications, a vice-president of the Jackson College of Ministries (1976-1981) and a president of Conqueror’s Bible College (1981-1983). [These are two now defunct UPCI Bible colleges.] Don started the national Bible quizzing program and was responsible for coordinating the first international UPC convention in 1976. [Information taken from Heretics and Politics: Theology, Power, and Perception in the Last Days of CBC by Thomas Fudge.] I found it interesting to discover in Heretics and Politics that Don Fisher was a UPCI PK himself and that his father had not spent much time with him as a child because he “was too tied up in the church.” Unlike Don, his father later regretted this. The influence of Don Fisher on the United Pentecostal Church cannot be denied, yet at the same time his influence on his children was something quite different, so much so that Ronna has never missed him since his passing in 1995 as a result of AIDS.

Ronna, one of Fisher’s three daughters, shares her painful and lonely upbringing. She longed to belong and fit in somewhere and not feel suffocated by her father’s rules and control. She was starving for attention. Some people envy PKs, thinking they have life great, yet many do not and reading this memoir will cause you to reconsider such a thought. Not permitted to spend time with classmates, Ronna was also hindered in school as she was uninformed of world events and culturally unaware. It wasn’t enough for her to stay away from school classmates, she was also prohibited from spending much time with children from church. She had a childhood filled with fear of being lost, being left behind and fear of her father’s quick temper, never knowing when he might explode.

Their philosophy on childhood friendships was unusually strict, even by church standards. Free time before and after service was to be spent on my knees in the prayer room, not standing in the hall talking in clusters with other kids. Sitting by boys during church was forbidden, speaking to them at all prompted accusations of misbehavior from Daddy. I was not allowed to attend the church girl sleepovers, not old enough at ten or eleven when the invitations stopped coming. Asking to spend times with other girls was risky, especially if it was a spontaneous plan cooked up at church. Such a request might be met with rage, I never knew.

Ronna takes her readers on a journey through her childhood with all the changes as her family moved from place to place. Walk alongside her as she shares of Fisher’s involvement with the UPCI Foreign Missions Division and a family trip to South America, a trip that caused Ronna to be both scared and fascinated. Feel her struggles as the family moves to Mississippi so Fisher can work at the Jackson College of Ministries where her father’s fits of rage increase. There she witnesses something very disturbing that he does with a mouse. Next comes a move to Oregon where Fisher took over as president of the Conqueror’s Bible College. She starts gaining weight and deals with her father stealing money she earns at her part-time nursing home job. Under intense scrutiny and pressure, Fisher resigns froms CBC and moves his family to Sacramento, California where they become involved in an independent evangelical church and Ronna survives an ectopic pregnancy. It is while they are here that her father’s homosexuality becomes known.

Her story isn’t only about her upbringing in the UPCI, but she shares her struggles through life after leaving. You will read about her mother’s battle with cancer and when Ronna discovered her father had AIDS and was dying. She ends up marrying a man who hid his homosexuality from her, just as her father hid his for the majority of his life. The discovery of his secret was the final straw in an unhealthy marriage. She fought hard to make it as a single mom. Ronna has since remarried and is now in a loving relationship.

Ronna is a survivor and her story should be heard. Will you listen?

This giveaway is a drawing and not a first come, first served giveaway. To enter, just leave a comment to show you wish to be included. The drawing will close on April 20th at 10pm (eastern time), after which I will draw the two winners. You will then need to email me your mailing address if I do not already have it. There is absolutely no cost to enter. Don’t be alarmed if your comment does not immediately show as they require approval when you are commenting for the first time.

We always provide these at no charge to our readers.

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How does your breathing change in a moment of crisis? Does it become fast and shallow? Is it difficult or painful? Do you hold it in as if it is the last bit of air to ever pass through your lungs? First tightening into a knot, my chest shifts to rapid, shallow breaths, leaving little room for oxygen to pass in or out. This exercise is an opportunity to evaluate changes in the patterns of depth and duration of breaths through mindfulness techniques. After experimenting with various strokes and lines/squiggles, a wave pattern felt most natural and comfortable to me, though awkward at first. Closing my eyes made it easier to focus on my breath, getting evermore shallow as the five minutes seemed to go on for ten. Upon opening my eyes, I saw on paper the result of heading towards an anxiety attack and my inhalations increasing in number, but decreasing in duration. While this exercise shows that not every tool works efficiently for every person, the second part of this gave me the key to working on mindfulness through breathing.

For the second step, I was supposed to count or use a mantra through the breaths, creating a longer inhale and exhale while decreasing the number of breaths, drawing the pattern of breaths for the same duration of time: Five minutes. The second photo shows the stark difference between the two.  I felt my chest getting tighter the more I focused on my breath, however, a phenomena my therapist and I discussed in our next session. What I pulled away from this exercise, though, was a mantra to help calm me down. For three counts in, “I-can-breathe,” and four counts out, “I-am-safe-now.”  When I cannot seem to focus my breathing by counting, this mantra now reminds me that I am safe and that there is room to breathe because the lack of air tends to send me into greater anxiety. So, while this exercise did not work the way it was intended in my case, it gave me an unexpected tool that has been invaluable.

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.”

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       Many believe in a “God” who hates or condemns those they find objectionable or whose faith they disagree with. No matter whether the excuse is “It’s what the Bible says,” “It’s part of our tradition,”  or “Pastor Whatsis believes that,” the problem is the same: The image of Christ’s self-emptying (kenosis) for our reconciliation is being distorted. Trying to “remake” God because the mercy given to us in the form of Jesus is too much to swallow is one of the biggest traps we often fall into.

     They have tried to create a deity in their own image, a deity whom they want to hate those who differ from them or who gives them license to impose their twisted doctrine on others. The commandment against creating graven images doesn’t just refer to statuary or the other forms that “idols” from various religions take. At the heart of this commandment is not putting anything in God’s place, which is exactly what happens when people try to remake God in their image.  

     Such behavior on the part of professing Christians shows a lack of trust in the One who made them.  In distorting God to suit their prejudices or legalism,  they are demonstrating that lack of trust. Trying to dictate who is or isn’t worthy of salvation based on Scripture-twisting or otherwise attempting to fence God off from those seeking salvation aren’t behaviors of those who put all their faith in the One who made them.

     Fear of The Other dominates those who think this way and their prejudice can have dangerous effects. There is often a fine line between disagreeing with someone’s actions and condemning the people themselves. If we’re to follow the Way of Christ, it must be a way of love.

     God is far more powerful than these distortions and those who create them, as powerful as they may seem to us. When we move past these distortions, we can have a greater appreciation for our Redeemer. Peoples’ distortions of God may seem all-powerful, but we need to remember that God is greater still.

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Disappearing down the quiet trail, the morning breeze still saturated with the early dew, bright fluorescent lights shatter the darkness, illuminating the university track and field course, a mere hour before dawn. Jared’s strict regimen of daily work-outs and meticulous counting of proteins, calories and carbohydrates begins his marathon sprint to losing one hundred pounds by next school year. Because exercise and nutrition are vital to physical and mental health and stamina, a balanced strategy and program is imperative to ensuring the weight-watcher continues to maintain adequate sustenance without overexertion in order to develop a healthier lifestyle. This includes a baseline intake of calories, proteins, complex carbohydrates, potassium, electrolytes, vitamins, and the right form of cholesterol, all while burning adequate amounts of fat without consequentially destroying muscle and bone density. Without this guideline, the dieter creates a phenomena where the outside appears substantially healthier, but the inside is weaker and damaged from the extreme conditions imposed on the body. In like manner, the rigid music and dress standards of Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) churches, imposed by pastors and by the congregants themselves for the sake of a healthier, well-nourished spiritual-life, are just like a bad diet plan.

While the outside seems to adjust by leaps and bounds, intricately constructed within the framework and silver-lining of legalism, the inside lacks true nurture and development, focusing rather on a performance-based relationship with Christ and ministry. Strict musical standards formulated around trepidation of crossing into a mystical “beat of the world” quickly creates repetitive and dry worship services, leaving church leaders and congregations horrified of potentially allowing the flesh to even minimally react in accordance with the moving of the Holy Spirit.  For fear of causing a man to stumble in his walk with the Lord, women are shamed into over-covering their God’s given bodies, placing the burden of responsibility solely on the woman and other women around her to do anything necessary to prevent alluring the eye of a man in any manner. This in turn results in outdated, frumpy clothing, and limited jewelry or make-up coined as Biblical modesty. While this develops a culture of pride in fulfilling one’s duty towards modesty, a stark contrast that focuses on business attire promotes the facade of a mature spiritual walk in a vast quantity of churches, passing judgement on a man not wearing a suit and tie, or on a woman for not having her hair, make-up and jewelry fashioned in a way that is considered “presentable before the Lord.” Outfits and appearances, as well as songs and performance styles, are scrutinized to the fullest extent of Pharisaical law, creating a false sense of spirituality that not only justifies and covers sin, but neglects the true mental and emotional needs of the congregants and visitors to come.

*Disclaimer* This series, “Why Am I a Baptist?” is NOT an exhaustive list of IFB doctrine. Because of the autonomous nature of IFB churches, this evaluation is of the movement as a whole, rather than a hard-and-fast rule. It may be possible to find healthy IFB churches, but they are few and far between because of various associations known as “camps,” typically surrounding well-known preachers or preference of worship style.

Why Am I a Baptist?
IFB Doctrine: The Baptist Distinctives
IFB Churches: Patriarchy in Church Polity (Part One)
IFB Churches: Patriarchy and the Leading Lady (Part Two)
IFB Churches: Patriarchy in Marriage (Part Three)
IFB Churches: Patriarchy and Keeping at Home (Part Four)
IFB Churches: Patriarchy and Sexual Obedience (Part Five)
IFB Churches: Patriarchy and Domestic Abuse (Part Six)
IFB Standards: Rigid Music and Dress Standards (Part One)

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Take a moment and allow your mind to drift off to a specific location or place where you have experienced comfort. Are you by a river or stream? In the forest? In a log cabin far away from any living soul? Are you reading a book or taking a long, hot bath? Is anyone there with you or are you by yourself?

For me, we established my safe place when I was nineteen weeks pregnant, panicking over relationships at church over needless drama and preparing for the birth of our third-born in the same traumatic setting as my first. My anxiety skyrocketed to the point that it felt like my skin was crawling. Not long after, I felt my husband come up behind me, his hands on my shoulders, massaging my back. As he encouraged mindfulness techniques through imagery, my mind found solace under a tree, in his arms, away from everyone else. A hidden place away from the spiritual demands and drama, the gossiping and lies, away from the fears of repeating my first’s traumatic birth story. Birds danced through the breeze, chirping sweet calls of the day, while the water splashed gently against the rocks in the flowing river. The grass moved softly in the gentle wind, as far as the eye could see until mountains kissed the skyline. My husband’s warm arms wrapped around me, holding me safe from harm, protecting me from the people who could not care less about the consequences of their actions on my family. This imagery previously guided me through my son’s natural birth, reminding me of safety and protection in my own birthing space filled with dimmed candle light. I had no idea that this location would become my safe place following a church service after opening the art therapy book for the first time.

Sitting in the pew of a church we were visiting, I felt nervous but calm as I had the Sunday before. Unfortunately, also like the previous Sunday, an anxiety attack swept over me as we walked out the automatic doors, as if someone suddenly knocked the wind out of me. In the truck, as my husband attempted to help me re-focus, my mind wandered back to the safe place I started pondering the day before. I felt my husband’s arms. I heard the river. I saw the leaves brushing against each other in the tree above. I-WAS-SAFE. I forgot about analyzing the church’s music and dress standards, and I forgot questioning when their skeletons would come out of the closet. I forgot questioning if the pastor is real or just a facade, waiting for him to show his true colors of abuse that may or may not actually be there. The hurt of the not-so-distant past was still very real and painful, but I was safe from its grasps for just a little bit, for a chance to heal.

Following the next service, when I had another anxiety attack walking out the door, my husband was able to help me draw back to my safe place under the tree, by the river. It is a place I can hide away when I cannot physically escape my triggers and fears. The best part is that one does not have to be a skilled artist. It can be boxes and stick figures if necessary, or simple scribbles on the page. The point is developing a place to escape to within because during and after trauma, we often lose a place of safety away from everybody else. The art therapy book recommends placing this picture up in a room that feels safe in your house, or even in the bedroom until one becomes more accustomed to quickly finding that safe place, internalizing it to be make it easier to reach in times of trouble. It is my reminder that I am no longer in the abuse. Even if there is a questionable or spiritually abusive situation going on around me, I can still be safe inwardly, no matter where I am.

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.”

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