Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts

Escape till morning light


I remember the very first morning I noticed You walking with me. I crept out of the slumbering house in the pre-dawn, the whole world a royal purple. My bare feet flicked the dew off the grass and then squished through the muddy spot that was a perennial feature on the lawn. I could see the woodshed in the darkness, glimmering white in the last of the moonlight.

I felt very alone yet very safe, 8 years old, up and about before the grown-ups. I walked down the path from the shed to the woodpile, mincing through the bracken and thorns of the forest. Our giant red dog came snuffling behind me, searching for a woodchuck or squirrel to pester. Past the woodpile, I sat down with a sigh, back to the linear stack of split lumber. I was safe and secret in the silence. No one knew where I was.

I didn't cry. I rarely did. Safe at last, I grinned to myself. I had outsmarted you this morning and I would outsmart you again tomorrow. Warmth enveloped me and I closed my eyes with a smile still on my lips.


I thought no one saw my bleeding heart. My mother, though, years later...she saw and wondered and asked. I had been shamed into lies for so long that I didn't tell her the truth. I will never forget the ache of my heart, thunderous and building, when I lied to my mama. Could she help me, I wondered? Lips stayed shut tight as if sealed by a king's signet. Not to be opened until the date prescribed.

In every moment of searing pain, I could escape to a beautiful place in my mind's eye. This memory of my morning walk through Your kingdom saved me a hundred times as my body went through hell. I always felt you, close as close could be, whispering in my ear and intimating a better time. Redemption for the blood-stained sinners. Rescue for the bloody and broken hearted. Wrath at injustice and secrets in the night.




In the Aftermath: Shunning Part 4

Tereasa's Story: Part II
Tereasa is the author of His Pen on My Heart, where she blogs about freedom in Christ, healing from spiritual abuse and raising special children. She is a story teller, painting pictures with words and drawing the reader close to her heart. Her desire is to encourage those who are hurting and point all to Christ, the healer of our broken hearts. The abusive church she and her husband were a part of with their children is not related to any denomination and she wishes to keep the church's identity anonymous. You can read more about her family's escape from an abusive church and their journey to healing in Reflections of a Survivor. To read Part I of Tereasa's story, click here to read yesterday's post.


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The days that followed  our escape confirmed that our decision was right. We were love bombed for a week.  If they had been permitted by the shepherd, members would have driven four hours to bring us back to them. Our phones rang incessantly and our email inboxes were filled with pleas to return. The pain of their cries was almost unbearable. Words of love were spoken, but ever so subtly the conditions were made. “Be people of integrity… Repent and return... Love the shepherd and follow the teachings… Follow the order of God and hold to the statement of faith.”

Threats were also made in the form of concerns. “What will happen to your children without the protection of the community? How will your marriage survive if not planted in the church?”  Guilt was used along with fear, “You are forcing the church back into immaturity… You’ve hurt the body of Christ… You’ve allowed Satan into your hearts.” They even used their children to write us letters begging us to return! The ultimate threat which locked the door came in a final email, “We’ll know soon whether or not your leaving was God’s will.”


Both love and fear were used as a means of control.  Their attempts to have us return were no different than their attempts to make us conform. The use of control and power to manipulate others to serve oneself is abuse.  In living there and by leaving there, we were spiritually abused.

Upon leaving the community, we returned to our previous hometown. Close to family and friends, far from those who loved us conditionally, we have a better chance to recover. The process has not been without grief and fear. All of us, including the children, have had to work through very intense emotions.

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Even though we are far away, we continue to live daily with the community.  They have been with us in our dreams and in our habits. Healing from spiritual abuse is like tending a garden. With consistent labor, the weeds decrease. Occasionally, surprises break through the soil and need to be removed before they grow and take over what is good.

We often feel like we’re nearing the end when another depth of hurt or another hurdle of healing must be faced. Perhaps, this will always be the case. The experience is like any other, a part of who we are. When circumstances arise, we come to new levels of healing.  It will be like climbing a mountain in a circular fashion.

There will always be things that trigger remembrance. Honestly, I do not want to forget. I love the people we left behind.  Nothing will change that. While I do not intend to purposely walk back into their lives, I do hope to be available. I hope that when another leaves, I can be there for support.
Next week I will be in a place where a chance meeting is possible and part of me is afraid.

It is not the first time I have feared, though.  The last time I was afraid, I asked the Lord what to do.  He reminded me that there is no fear in love. 
“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”  – 1 John 4:18
It is the very verse by which the shepherd taught that if you fear, you do not love.  I now know that I need not fear punishment because I am in Christ who is love and it is by him that I am perfected.
“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” - Romans 8:1
If I ever run into anyone from the community again, whether it is next week or next year, I will stand confident in the love of Christ.  I will offer that love, as well. It will not be natural for me to do so, but it will be possible by the grace of God. I will do this because the freedom I have found in Christ is more than I deserve.  When others are shunned I will be there to hold their hands as they recover.  I will help them tend the garden and climb the mountain.  


That is why I am so thankful for this series. If you find yourself in a place of fear and confusion… If you feel that you are alone and wonder if you will survive life beyond abuse and abuse and shunning, there is an entire community of bloggers who have walked the path before you and have overcome.  You are not alone. 


"I've watched how lies can die in foregivness" - Witness, Nicole Witt
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This post is part 4 in a series on shunning in the Christian church. If you have a guest post to share, please find me at http://TurquoiseGates.com and leave a comment or contact me to let meknow. Please refrain frm rude omments directed t owardthe brave who have stepped forward to explain these painful chapters of their live. If you have a post, old or new, about shunning or church discipline, please link up below so we can read YOUR story!





Escape in the Dead of Night: Shunning Part 3

Tereasa's Story: Driving Away
Tereasa is the author of His Pen on My Heart, where she blogs about freedom in Christ, healing from spiritual abuse and raising special children. She is a story teller, painting pictures with words and drawing the reader close to her heart. Her desire is to encourage those who are hurting and point all to Christ, the healer of our broken hearts. The abusive church she and her husband were a part of with their children is not related to any denomination and she wishes to keep the church's identity anonymous. You can read more about her family's escape from an abusive church and their journey to healing in Reflections of a Survivor.
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My heart beats faster and my breathing becomes shallow when I think about shunning. My first thoughts are steeped in confusion. “Were we shunned or did we shut them out?” questions the broken record in my mind. The answer is fuzzy because the shunning was subtle.

“Why did you leave the way you did?” a friend asked. “Why not stay long enough to pack up your things and say goodbye?” (I welcome questions, because talking about it clears my thoughts and solidifies my stance.)

Simply put, it was the safest choice. We knew the alternative would destroy our family. The church we had been a part of for over a year was abusive and was known to divide families. Already, I had been told to choose the church over my husband if he did not agree with the teaching. The children would be told the same thing.  If we stayed long enough to say goodbye or even pack our things, the emotional stress would have torn us apart. Leaving immediately and without warning was the best decision.

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The church was a community with a very close-knit family atmosphere. Most of the members lived within walking distance of each other. Our daily lives were intertwined. We not only worshiped together, we worked together, taught our children together, ate together and more. It was not a commune, but it was close.  With that came a deep sense of belonging and being loved. The system was built in such a way that members were almost completely dependent on one another.

Dependence made it very easy for the shepherd to control the lives of the sheep. Not only were members dependent on one another, members were increasingly dependent on the shepherd. Love equaled obedience. Since it was taught God spoke through the shepherd, obedience to the shepherd meant obedience to God. If you did not obey the shepherd, you did not love him.  If you did not love the shepherd, you did not love God.  Sadly, this toxic theology was veiled in a shade of love and mixed with twisted scripture, making it ever so difficult to discern.

We had seen what happened to those who disagreed and we had occasionally been on the receiving end of it. Those who questioned were called doubters. Those who disagreed were dissenters. Those who did not conform were rebellious and those who left were said to be captured by Satan.

The teaching was that because there is one Spirit, any who thinks differently from the shepherd (who speaks from the Spirit) were being led by an evil spirit. It provoked fear and kept people quiet. Even in homes, one who brought up questions was said to put doubts in the other and was called a spiritual bully. Therefore, it was thought to be dangerous for a woman to ask her husband for understanding. It was even considered abusive for a man to share his concerns about the teachings with his wife. People were encouraged to go to the shepherd alone for the sake of unity.

We had taken our questions to the shepherd; we even dared to share a few with each other. As a result, we were publicly reprimanded.  Even that was subtle, as names were never used. The rebukes were passive aggressive and stated for a general audience so that all would learn, but everyone knew who the shepherd was speaking of at any given time.  The result was often anger and resentment toward the one who had brought the harsh words upon the crowd. Even that was shrouded in a cloak of love. The passive aggression behind the smiles and hugs were enough to suffocate anyone into obedience.

We knew what would happen if we continued seeking truth in that place. Seduced by the love of the community, we would eventually buckle and lose the connection Christ had died to give us. In order to survive emotionally, we would have to allow the shepherd to become the high priest Christ intends to be.  We would thus waste away spiritually.

On the other hand, we could continue to fight for truth and endure the conditional side of love. Our children would be turned against us and our marriage would be threatened. We would be love bombed while simultaneously having our rebellion held over our heads.  The emotional roller coaster would be comparable to that experienced by a battered wife.

It was the realization of that association which showed us what to do. This was not a time for games.  This was a matter of spiritual life and death. It could even affect the life of our marriage and family. Once the decision was made, we knew it was time to go.  We worked into the wee hours of morning to prepare after the children had gone to bed.  Then we left while everyone was at church the next day. (You can read about our escape in detail here and here.)

Some might say that because of the way we left, we were not shunned.  It is true that we were not asked to leave.  In the post to follow, however, I will show that shunning is not always blatant. It is not always neatly packaged and delivered as an act of disfellowship. More often than not, shunning is subtle and relayed in manipulative messages.


I'm the one that drives away
I am a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
Burning off alone

It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again

I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?
~Times Like These, Foo Fighters~