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Look past the twirling locks of honey-colored hair, framing yet hiding the deep lines on my face. Look past my ankle-length skirt to see the shame deep within. Look past the frumpy shirt with enough material to pinch on both sides of my chest, and sees the scars underneath. See the scrapes, cuts, and bruises that most never dare to see. They desire only to see the pantyhose with three-quarter sleeves, rather than the wound bandages underneath. They can’t see the deep grooves on my arms, the ones deformed from healing incorrectly, and the others still fresh from today.

Does God see my hurt or does He only see that I’m not pouring into the Bible day by day? Does He see the blood oozing out or does He only care that I haven’t prayed? Does He see past the modesty and shame-facedness to actually see my shame? Does He see that I’m aching and broken? Does He see that I’m battered and bruised?

Does He see that it’s not that I want nothing to do with Him, but that I’m not sure how to trust again? I’m shattered at the core and have yet to figure out how to begin the repair.

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This is a little different from the norm for here since it’s not about spiritual abuse per se. However, the holidays, in general, are tough for a lot of people. In my case, it was a combination of old, painful memories from childhood and more recent memories from needless blended family stress.

The blended family-related stress did, however, have a major impact simply because of its scope. Unnecessary stress over who bought what for whom, spending too much time preparing food for a crowd of varying size, and wondering which of the visiting kids is going to end up breaking something is something nobody needs. Yet, these types of things happen in too many homes during this time of year because we’ve let what we say we’re celebrating get out of focus.

We don’t know for certain what time of year Jesus was born – traditions and the changing religious landscape of Western Europe gave us the Dec. 25th date, not Scripture. However, for a celebration that’s supposed to honor his birth, we’ve allowed Christmas to become anything BUT Christ-honoring.

Some of the “delights” many of us have to cope with:

• Annoying invited or non-invited guests more interested in an additional meal
• Rude drivers and nowhere to park when you finally arrive
• Snide comments directed at one’s choice of churches
• Little chance to enjoy time off work because of too much time spent preparing
• Radio stations and TV programming that offer little respite from holiday options

For the effort that many Christians put into “Keeping Christ in Christmas” and “Remember the Reason for the Season,” these are mere platitudes for a lot of people who see the holidays as something to endure. Maybe the ones we need to remind about the why of Christmas are ourselves.

One of my biggest takeaways as having formerly had a “difficult” relationship with the holiday season has been making a distinction between the popular trappings that are unfortunately a major stressor for many and the feast of the Nativity that has Jesus as its focus. Elements of both the secular and sacred overlap, of course, but when Jesus is first and foremost, it’s easier to choose the things that draw us closer to him.

Do our holiday celebrations draw us closer to God and to each other? Maybe that’s what we should ask the most this Christmas.

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It’s often difficult for people to resolve the bad stories they heard preached often when they leave unhealthy churches. Korah, the man who gathered sticks on the Sabbath, Ananias and Sapphira, Hymenaeus and Philetus, Achan, Jezebel. These are the names that still ring in my ears nine years after leaving. They are individual stories that seem to show God as punishing and demanding (“kill them if they don’t obey”) BUT those don’t match the overarching themes of the Bible. Love does.

It’s scary to not take these stories as threats. We were taught that they showed a big part of who God was. But what can we do with them after leaving?

To me, the ones that stray from the central themes I consider more people’s perspectives or their own desires. They don’t change the central themes, but they show peoples’ struggle to understand, perhaps.

This may be a leap, but this helps me put all the other stories in perspective:
It’s kind of like the book of Job… there are people who quote Job’s comforters as “truth.” And yes, their statements are part of the story, but not the central theme. Their stories don’t give accurate information about God, even though they talk about God. They show something, but they’re not the part that shows God. Job’s part and God’s part show that. Not the comforters.’ It’s the same way with things throughout the Bible. It’s the Jesus part that shows God. The rest shows people trying to understand, some for better, others for worse, but none shows God like the Jesus part. The Jesus part says God is love.

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Below is what one woman experienced being raised in an unhealthy church, how it distorted her view of God causing her to become angry and bitter, and how she has been recovering since leaving. I have added some commentary after it that deals with the standards.

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Here are the facts/reasons why I left the United Pentecostal Church organization when I was 19 years old after being brought up from birth in the same church/organization.

I left as an angry and bitter teenager. I left thinking God (if there was one) was far too unobtainable. He appeared to be angry all the time and was looking for ways to keep me out of heaven. No matter what my parents said to me, it was never enough, it would never heal my broken spirit from all the manipulation and control and mean things that the oppressed members expressed towards me. I hated that they were so devoted to a man that always seemed angry and mad. There were so many things that I could not understand as a young person that I just couldn’t stomach it. I would lay in bed and dream of the day I was old enough to leave.

I hated feeling scared to go to church that he (the pastor) just may call me out because he could read my mind. I felt like I was always being preached at because I am sure he could tell that I was growing cold more and more. I just didn’t care about the people, I thought they were all foolish and weak. They couldn’t make decisions on their own. It was a little church that never grew. One person came in, two were leaving. Most didn’t stay. Only the weak would stay. Asking if you could go on vacation or take a job that would cause you to leave the church for another one was not acceptable. You were always told that it was out of the will of God. Just who did they think they were to tell you what the will of God was or was not for your life? Was it for the money? If your family left that would leave a big gap in the financial stream.

I got so tired of being told on to the pastor by one woman in particular if my hairdo was not holy enough or I curled my eyelashes or… the list goes on.

I so wanted to have a normal life as a child. I wanted to be involved with the outside world but I was so fearful because everything was wrong. I finally came to the resolve that I was just a bad person and that God couldn’t love me and stayed in constant fear that God would come and I was certainly going to Hell. I loved bling and beauty and I hated that I had to look like everyone else and think like everyone else and act like everyone else. I didn’t want to look frumpy, I wanted to have my own personality.

Why can they now do the very things that were forbidden when I was a kid? I remember watching TV at the neighbors (some after school program). I was sent home, scolded and had to pray in my room for an hour to ask God to forgive me. I was so fearful because I was told I would have to tell the pastor. Now they can watch TV, go to movies, go to concerts etc. All the things I wanted to experience was forbidden. What happened? God changed his mind? Did he say, “Pastors, it’s okay as long as everyone pays their tithes and all the other offerings”? Hmmmm not sure about that……

My step son went to a concert and on the way home was in a terrible car accident and the pastor told him that God did it to him because he was rebellious. Really? That same pastor years later had tragedy strike his family and I had always wondered what happened. What was God punishing him for? Oh it wasn’t punishment. I believe now that it rains on the just and the unjust. I don’t feel any ill feelings towards this man, I just feel bad for him that he actually felt this way. (I’m not sure what he feels now because people on his board at the church go to movies, concerts etc.) By the way, my step son is an atheist now.

I never really dealt with the pain that this church caused me. The only way I knew how to deal with it was by being angry. That seemed to help me. It wasn’t until eight years ago that I was in a business meeting for leaders when I heard a speaker that was a Christian teaching us about leadership. I would usually get up and walk out. This time, I couldn’t, it was like I had weights in my behind. I just sat there listening. I totally got what he was saying and something changed in my heart.

You see, when I was little I tried to be a perfect little girl for Jesus. I loved him, I wrote to him in my diary, I wrote songs to him. Then I realized that he was demanding and wanted to see me go to Hell and that is when everything changed. I knew I could never be good enough, I could never please him. I felt when I was created God must have made a mistake. I just couldn’t be like everyone else. I was told that I was rebellious etc. I was so tired of being told that I was bad, not good enough. I think back, I was a pretty good kid that had a little OCD and just wanted to be perfect and excel in everything.

When I got married to my husband we made a vow that we would never go to church except for funerals and weddings. He, too, was a former UPC survivor. We made that vow and all was going great. Then here we were at a weekend event for leaders and we are now listening to this man speak and our hearts actually opened to receive what he had to say. Long story short, we both wound up receiving Christ into our lives in a new, fresh and beautiful way. It changed us on every level. No, we did not do anything like we were taught in the UPC ways and yet God transformed our hearts.

What I have noticed is that even though life is good, there is still residue from my old life in the UPC. I don’t really care what others say or feel about me, but I did care what God felt towards me. I am sorry to say that I had felt that God hated me because I was different from them. I wanted more, I didn’t want to be judgmental, I didn’t want to be like them in any way. When I am with my family I stick out I am sure, but that’s okay. The hard part is, they try so hard to include me but I feel at times that they don’t know what to think. They see I have a walk with God but it’s not anything like what I was taught. I am sure this is confusing to them and that makes my heart sad at times.

What I have learned is this, what matters is what God thinks of me and He is pretty crazy in love with me. Do I have battle scars? Yes. Am I still recovering from a brainwashed life of manipulation and control by man? YES. Will I ever be free from it? YES, not sure if it will be in this life… but I know one thing, I don’t want to be old and bitter so things better change soon because time keeps ticking by…lol. Seriously, not bitter but still dealing with being wounded. My advice, don’t cram it down and pretend it never happened, deal with it and move on.

That’s all for now. My heart tells me that God has something very special for those that have been thrown out for being a rebel, misfit and uncontrollable by religion. Jesus is the same Jesus that walked the earth and He was quite the rebel in the Pharisee’s eyes. He came to give us Life and give it more abundantly. He didn’t come to judge but to love us. If we can only grasp what that truly looks like.

Thank you for listening/reading….

Be Blessed,

Constance

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There are some in the United Pentecostal Church who erroneously believe that the organization now allows the viewing of Hollywood made movies and television programs. This misunderstanding arose when they removed the ban on ministers owning a television set in 2013 and also dropped two position papers (video restrictions and technology) and added a new one on the use of media. I have heard that some ministers almost immediately went and purchased a television set after this change, though some had already been using it for years.

While some individuals and even licensed ministers have taken these changes to mean that things previously prohibited are now permitted, the UPCI has NOT changed their stand against them. The Articles of Faith still state what they have for years: “We wholeheartedly disapprove of our people indulging in any activities which are not conducive to good Christianity and godly living, such as theaters, dances, mixed bathing or swimming, women cutting their hair, make-up, any apparel that immodestly exposes the body, all worldly sports and amusements, and unwholesome radio programs and music. Furthermore, because of the display of all these evils on television, we disapprove of any of our people having television sets in their homes. We admonish all of our people to refrain from any of these practices in the interest of spiritual progress and the soon coming of the Lord for His church.”

In the UPCI Manual, it is made clear what ministers may and may not view when it comes to the use of media. Article VII, Section 7 and 29 states, “The use of all media technology must strictly be limited to educational, religious, inspirational, and family content that is consistent with wholesome Christian principles. No minister shall use television or other media technology for the purpose of viewing worldly, carnal and unwholesome media; endeavouring to maintain a Godly atmosphere and influence in their lives.”

So while some ministers, churches and church members have let down on these standards, the United Pentecostal Church still states that they are against such things.

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Looking back, I still remember the first time I felt hopelessness completely overtake my life, enveloping all joys into sorrow, and laughter into days of tears. The compassionate mentor who became an explosive dictator demanded to know every detail of my past sexual encounters. He likely wanted some form of company as his black Grand Prix was struggling to shift from first to second gear on the highway, plugging its way home on a grueling one-hour drive from work.

At first, I refused, knowing the phone conversation to be inappropriate between a forty-something year old married man and an eighteen-year old college student. He repeated his demands through coercion and manipulation until he finally resolved to threats. His wife- we’ll call her Mrs. Julie- was my friend, mentor, and accountability partner and we were supposed to talk on the phone in a few minutes, at four-thirty as we did every weekday. We would go over a list of daily questions, had I given in to any one of multiple temptations, as well as any other issues to discuss in the spiritual walk of a college girl. He knew I was emotionally and spiritually dependent on her and he used it to his advantage. Once again, he cut off all communication between Mrs. Julie and I until I conformed to his wishes. I also wasn’t allowed to tell her that he cut off communication, but simply leave her in hurt, broken trust, as she was a woman who highly valued dependability, loyalty in friendships, and keeping one’s word.

He was jealous of the time his wife spent mentoring teenage girls, and particularly her time with me. He often accused me of loving his wife sexually and would even direct me to a different room in his house to establish that his wife was his property. Now, with his vehicle falling apart, requiring expensive repair,  he needed some semblance of control. Or maybe he needed some sick fantasy to aide in the time and distract him from the stress of the current situation, probably because he withheld from his wife as a form of sexual and emotional control as well. Defeated and concerned about Mrs. Julie, however, I gave in to his perverse commands. Thankfully, as a virgin, the account was limited, but he wanted to know every detail of petting, kissing, touching, and discovery.

When I was finally able to call Mrs. Julie, I had to explain why I was so late. But upon hearing the circumstances, she wasn’t angry with her husband- we’ll call him Brother Thomas- she was furious with me. She was livid and tried to have me see it from her perspective: a young teen girl expounding to her husband about her sexual life. I had crossed a line that no one knew how to rectify. Once again, I was the wedge between her and her husband. I was the one who caused the argument.

I was caught between a rock and a hard place, simply longing for all to be at peace. If Brother Thomas cut off communication entirely, Mrs. Julie would never forgive him, driving that wedge yet deeper. It would literally break Mrs. Julie’s heart for either one of us to break off our friendship, but here I stood: between Brother Thomas and Mrs. Julie, always trying to do the right thing, but continually making it worse.

There was no solution except for me to just be out of the picture so no one was to blame. And so began what I would later learn are called “intrusive thoughts”:
“What if that truck behind the church swerved just enough to hit me where I stood?”
“What if the shuttle driver over-corrected and we went into a ditch?”
“If only that car lost just enough control, and I would no longer be a detriment to their marriage and Mrs. July would be able to move on without the continued heartache.”

Looking back, I see how Brother Thomas was perverse. I see how Mrs. Julie placed the blame on me when her anger should have been directed towards her husband. I see now how it’s better that my life didn’t end that semester- I now have a loving husband and beautiful children! -and I can see now how they weren’t worth my life. But people continue to say that “suicide is selfish.” Let me tell you, it’s not always selfish. Sometimes it’s selfless.

Sometimes it’s from being beaten and berated to the point that one no longer sees the value in their own life, only that the end of their life would end the torment in another’s life. It’s not true, but nearly impossible to see in the moment. Depression and suicide lie. Spiritually-abusive cults continually remind us that we are as worthless, sinful worms in the eyes of God, when in reality,  we are His treasure.

***If you are contemplating suicide, there is no reason to be ashamed nothing good comes out of a life lost. You are truly precious in God’s eyes. Seek out a friend or family member, a general care provider, or call the Suicide Hotline at 1(800) 273-8255. You can also text 741741 and a crisis worker will text you back immediately and continue to text with you. It’s a free service to anyone who lives in the United States and it’s run by the Crisis Text Line. Suicide isn’t always selfish, but it fails to show that there are other ways and your life is worth living.***

When Suicide is Selfless (Part 2): A Mother’s Love

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