Words I Wonder About

For Wondering Wednesday...

I have a list of words I wonder about.  Words like:
protection
safety
sovereign
God's will

forgiveness

love
care
watch
guard
redeem
redemption
grace
prayer
joy
resurrection
bitter

These are all fairly straightforward words to one raised in church, right?  Well, yes and no.  These were all words and concepts that were twisted in their meaning in my theological past.  You may well ask how I know this and am I certain that it's not my present that is twisting these words.  Every move away from the IFB(Independent Fundamental Baptist) world I grew up in and birthed most of my children in, has been slowly untwisting the doctrinal tangle I was bound in.  I can follow the road and see where many of the turns were that led me closer to where I am now.  It's progressively improved so much so that I could almost have a post millenial like view on my theological journey.

My Friend, Dean

We moved to a new house in January of my third grade year.  It was a brand new house on a brand new street.  I made new friends in the neighborhood and school was okay.  My teacher was pregnant and spent most of the day sitting at the back of the classroom with her head on the desk.  We got to play on the good playground for one recess but had to play on the blacktop parking lot for the other recess.

I met Dean in the neighborhood, he was a few years older than me.  He taught me how to jump my bike and land level with both tires on the dirt course kids made out of the piles of dirt around the poured basements on the street.  I got pretty good.  He even let me ride his dirt bike, the motorized kind.  I knew I was hot stuff and special because he didn't let anyone else ride his motor bike. He also taught me karate moves and how to defend myself and fight. (Yes, I know it doesn't sound like girl stuff, but I liked the guy's kind of fun.  Barbies and board games get old real quick.)  His garage door was always open(if his parents weren't home) and that was the neighborhood source for all things illegal.  He never let any of the other guys there give me the hard stuff they were offering.  I could hang out there and smoke, but he wouldn't let me try anything with needles.  Sometimes he would shoo me out of the basement side of the garage(raised ranch style house) and it wasn't until my teacher at school molested and raped me all through the school year that I realized what all was going on in the basement side of his garage.  He was a good guy and I was safe with him.  Some days he told me I needed to leave, usually this was when his friends wanted me to go in the basement and hang out with them.  Later I realized what he was keeping me safe from.  I wish I knew his last name and could find him and say thank you.  He was kinda like an onery, getting in trouble older brother. He was my friend, Dean.

Life Together with Christians in my New World

I haven't written a blog post in a while, although I've been writing a lot for my own sanity elsewhere.  I've started reading another book, just a short little one, but it is packed with a whole lot of things new to me in some ways.  It's really not new, but reflects the cry of my heart that I've done my best over the years to bind and gag and bury it deep so I can't hear it any longer.  The book I've begun to read is Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Enter the idea of Christian community and confession.  Why in the world would I read such a book?  I don't know, I suppose it has something to do with the things I've been wrestling with for the last few months.  In good ole IFB language these would be the things I would mention as "unspoken prayer requests" back in the independent fundamental baptist church I grew up in.  Thankfully I'm not in that world anymore, but I still don't quite know how to safely navigate in the world I find myself in today.  Life Together is given as an example of how we should live life together in our Christian community.  Therefore I find myself reading it to see just what that entails.

There is a great amount of tension between confession and daily community life that I see lived out before me.  How much of your story should be known?  What sort of things do you confess and to whom?  Who can handle the really big stuff, you know, the type of things that you do need help with in overcoming, the struggles that are too hard to carry on your own?  Not too many people fit that description.  And the incredible risks involved are enough to drive you back to isolation and denial.  That's a lonely and emotionally frozen way to live.  I want to be thawed out, but I'm afraid I may be "freezer burnt" and never be able to function as a normal person in the community I am now in.  The big things like major depression that cycles around to various degrees of suicidal thoughts all the way up to the point of deciding to attempt it or not is not something most people can deal with.

Of course the ones who are "trained" to deal with it are the ones who have no answers.  What kind of help is that?  Listening to the Godless drivel that comes out and yet is called help, is enough to drive me to really go through with it.  Talk about truly depressing!  Yet these are the people that I would be referred to in the throes of being suicidal because evidently pastors, who are thoroughly trained in the scriptures and theology, don't have the answers I am in desparate need of during the times I am suicidal. (Did you notice the sarcasm here?)

QUOTES from Life Together:

"The physical presence of other Christians is a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer." p19

"The believer feels no shame, as though he were still living too much in the flesh, when he yearns for the physical presence of other Christians." p19

"The prisoner, the sick person, the Christian in exile sees in the companionship of a fellow Christian a physical sign of the gracious presence of the triune God." p20

"He knows that God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him guilty, even when he does not feel his guilt, and God's Word in Jesus Christ pronounces him not guilty and righteous, even when he does not feel that he is righteous at all.  The Christian no longer lives of himself, by his own claims and his own justification, but by God's claims and God's justification." p22

"God has willed that we should seek and find His living Word in the witness of a brother, in the mouth of man.  Therefore, the Christian needs another Christian who speaks God's Word to him.  He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth.  He needs his brother man as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation." p23

Theology Thursday--What the heck is joy?

All my life I've heard that Christians are supposed to be joyful.  I've even heard that joy isn't the same as happiness.  For the first time though I'm told at my church's ladies book study that joy is something the Holy Spirit does.  Now I have been taught that joy is a fruit of the Spirit, but anyone who reads Galations 5 can see it listed out plainly as one of the fruits of the Spirit, so that's an easy one.  A few times I've heard that joy is something that naturally comes out or shows clearly in a Christian.  See that's what I have a problem with.  I know how I feel a lot of the time and joy isn't it.  I'm not exactly sure what joy looks like.

I've seen people I know to be Christians walking around and they seem lighthearted and untouched by unusual tragedy.  Other Christians I've noticed seem to be dialed down a notch, but still have that something I can't identify, in common.  Then there are those whom I know that have incredible pain in their life that ebbs and flows like the tides.  I see the pain in their eyes, hear it in their voice, feel it in their writing and all the while, others say how strong they are, what a testimony they are, and all the platitudes that come with the comfort of others.  What they say is true, but the pain is still there.  Behind the brave smiles, and speech is pain; and the more other people tell you how strong you are and what a testimony the more constrained you become to hide the pain.  The days get better, sometimes you forget and then you remember again.  What makes the difference between daily agony, numbness, forced forgetfulness and joy?
There is an enormous gap between forced forgetfulness and joy.  How in the world does one get to joy?

So that brings me back to joy being a fruit of the Spirit and what that fruit looks like, especially in the lives of Christians who have had tragedy of various sorts.  Is joy possible with just the passage of time?  I say no.  Time doesn't heal squat; time gives you a chance to improve on your inner Spock. 
Another thing said at the ladies book study is that we don't have to act joyful.  Well that's a relief!  From what I understand the Spirit gives joy.  But I have several questions related to that: to whom, how, why, will He give it to me, and what do I have to do or be in order for the Spirit to give me joy?

A constant refrain I hear is that this is the middle of the story, this isn't all there is, God is still writing my story and He will finish it on time.  That's good to know and is actually a comfort; and for me there isn't much said that is intended to comfort which does in reality, it usually causes additional pain.
We are going through Ecclesiates and the book Joy at the End of the Tether by Douglas Wilson.  Perhaps I will have a better answer to what joy actually is and how it looks in Christians who have much pain by the time we finish this study.  At the same time my pastor just began preaching through Philipians, another joy topic.  Hopefully I'll learn something.  What I'm not looking forward to is hearing Phil 4:8 read and preached on.  That's a major trigger for me.  I think I'll stay home from church and bury my head on that day.

Themed Blogging Days

Thinking about ways of being more intentional with this blog and I'm going to try themed blogging days.  Something like:
Marvelous Monday, Mad Monday or Morbid Monday or maybe just to be a little more "normal" I'll do Monday Munchies.
Truthful Tuesday, Tuesday Triggers, Troubled Tuesday, or Torturous Tuesdays: a walk down memory lane
Wednesday Wonders, Wordless Wednesday(I like pictures and occasionally I take a good one)
Theology Thursday (I could probably write on this, pose questions, post about the crappy "answers" I've received over the years)
Fearful Friday or Fabulous Friday (That's really polar opposites, maybe I'll just skip Fridays)
Searching Saturdays (open ended theme that can work for a lot of things, even normal living life stuff)

My Lousy Balancing Act...

I've been trying out, in great seriousness and effort, another go round of counseling with a pastor and not just some pastor that I drive to go see that doesn't see me on Sunday or other times, but my pastor, the one who is charged with shepherding the sheep in his flock, of which I am one.  I'm not sure how well it's going.  Rather, I'm not so sure how well I am doing.  I don't know how to balance honesty, openness, anger and being nice.  I don't think I can be fully honest and nice at the same time.  I can be honest in a limited scope and be nice which is how you act with everyone else when you know they have neither the time, nor inclination to hear your deepest darkest.  And that's ok, that's life.  I sure don't want everyone I know to know all about me.  Hence the somewhat anonymous blog. hehe  But as far as maintaining civility and avoiding the appearance of anger while being fully honest and open, well I've never done that before.   Never is a strong word, but it might just fit this time.

I keep coming back to the difficulty I have in balancing emotions and behavior.  Being able to handle church, preaching, Bible reading, singing and physical touch without the necessity of retreating physically and/or emotionally in order to maintain a facade of normalcy is where I would like to be some day.  I'm tired of the facade.  When I let up and am fully, or nearly fully, open and honest then I am always the loser.  When I restrain myself and limit what I say or try to act like all is okay when I am falling apart on the inside; then I still lose because I think people notice and pull away.  I'm not sure if it's because they are bothered that I don't trust them enough to be real with them or if they are retreating to avoid any possibility of getting too close to my screwed up self.

I've been scarily honest in some emails with my pastor after counseling times, and didn't try to hide my anger.  Is that keeping it real or is it being a jerk?  Having to ask such a question reflects my lousy balancing skills.  Anyway, this has been a hell of a week.  DH and I had a medium sized fight last Sunday night, and of course he brought it up in counseling on Monday afternoon.  I wasn't nice.  I was sarcastic, rude, angry, hurt and scared, but didn't show I was hurt and scared, just used all the ugly ways of protecting myself from being known.  That was a dud of a counseling session,  I was actually asked to leave so the pastor could talk to just my DH.  It was just supposed to be for 10 minutes and then I thought I was coming back in, but that actually ended the session.

I've been in a funk, depressed, planning how to win the war with my husband, ended up being really sorry for some emails I sent and I've cried a lot this week. And to top it off,  tonight I was quite triggered by reading I John in preparation for the upcoming Sunday school series. And I didn't even read it, I listened to it on my iphone from a link for this weeks church news.  Like I said, this has been a rough week.  No let up.

Nouthetic Counseling is Bunk!

It finally makes sense why most of the "help" I have received has only caused more pain and feelings of hopelessness.
http://robinphillips.blogspot.com/2011/10/problems-with-jay-adams-and-nouthetic.html


Don't question God. Asking why shows you're doubting God's goodness. If you don't forgive; then God won't forgive you. Christ died on the cross for your sins, the least you can do is to forgive your perpetrator. (Is that word supposed to sound better than abuser or rapist?)  At least it's better than Wood and Mazak's "offender".

Singing the Psalms

Reading the Bible is very triggering for me right now, even though I'm avoiding the King James Version.  So I listen to good music that are heavy in the Psalms.  It's a balm for my soul and if I sing along, at least in my head, it doesn't trigger me.

So almost all day I've been listening to My Cry Ascends: New Parish Psalms.
Two of my favorites are Lord Jesus Think on Me and From Depths of Woe.  I know they don't sound all that encouraging, but those songs, especially, are keeping me grounded in the here and now; and I desperately need that.

http://www.ligonier.org/store/my-cry-ascends-new-parish-psalms-cd/

The Anguished Cry

O LORD, how long shall I cry for help,

and you will not hear?

Or cry to you "Violence!"

and you will not save?

Why do you make me see iniquity,

and why do you idly look at wrong?

Destruction and violence are before me;

strife and contention arise.

So the law is paralyzed,

and justice never goes forth.

For the wicked surround the righteous;

so justice goes forth perverted.

Habakkuk 1:1-4

I listened to a sermon on this the other day.  I think it was a good sermon.  I need to listen to it again and hopefully I can fully turn off the baptist tapes in the background of my mind so I can understand what is being taught. http://www.wordmp3.com/details.aspx?id=11631 

I only know what is before me in words, not the technical ways of understanding who the passage is for and what it's "really" saying.  I know that was the anguished cry of my soul as a child.   Those questions are still unanswered, but from a safe vantage point of time I am still asking them.  "O LORD, why?"

I finally admit to myself why I'm blogging

I'm pulling this out of my drafts.  I don't remember when I wrote it, but it is still true.

My reason for blogging has changed. Not really changed, but at least I'm admitting it more to myself. Dang, I didn't want to have a point. I've ended up creating a blog that I can't let my children see until they are a lot older. That's really great. I can't even write about the life I lived as a child and allow my own children to read it because they're not old enough. I lived through hell and survived, barely.

I want this blog to attract others who have been abused in IFB churches or schools. I really want the man who molested and raped me as an 11 and 12 year old little girl to be held accountable. (may he rot in jail forever) I think he is still teaching. I'll verify that soon.

I want changes to be made in hiring and firing in IFB churches and schools. The AACS had better get their act together as the middleman and keep track of their members personal and character references. They're not guiltless in passing around child rapists from school to school.

Still Paying the Price

It's been almost three years since I've posted on this blog.  I haven't forgotten anything, but I just couldn't write about things.  Trying to figure out how to make this blog do what I orignally intended for it to do is complicated.  I'm too much of a chicken to just put it all out there.  I've lost too many friends in too many places and quite a few of those losses were because of my past abuse.

We are once again in a new state, a new church and trying to see where we fit, or if we do fit.  As long as I manage to blend, I know we'll be okay.  But what about the dark times?  They always return and then I really don't want to be alone.  I want comfort, but that's the point where I am rejected or become someones project.  Is there a balance?  Does anyone besides me know how to be a friend to someone who is hurting without turning them into a project?

That sounds a bit arrogant, but I haven't seen people who have been able to be a friend to those who have been sexually abused without turning them into a project or outright rejecting them.  I don't want to be hurt like that again.  The abuse was a long time ago, but I'm still paying the price.  I'm the one with the memories that intrude at the wrong times.  (I'd like to know when the right time is and then maybe I can train my brain and body to save it for times I can handle it and am expecting it.)  I'm the one with the shaking and sweating hands.  I'm the one who works really hard to take hugs and pats from people at church, especially men, without panicing and having to hide in the bathroom.  I'm the one with the flashbacks.  I'm the one who thinks about what happened to me when sermons or songs touch on tragedy or God's love and care.  When forgiveness is discussed I am back in the hallway trying to know that I'm not really there again.  When someone keeps asking how can they pray for me I am terrified.  This is a person who is becoming a friend and all I can think of is how much it will hurt when they don't talk to me anymore and avoid me at church because I fully and truthfully told them how they can pray for me.  I want to say.  "Pray that the darkness doesn't get too dark, pray that I can stop being afraid, pray that I can be myself without losing friends or becoming a project, pray that the baptist tapes will be banished, pray that PTSD won't keep returning, pray that he will be caught and punished, pray for justice, pray for complete healing and hope that it is possible, pray that the memories won't come unbidden especially when I'm with my husband or in church, pray that the thoughts of suicide will never return, pray for me to be able to love God fully."
I don't say any of these things.  How can I?  The risk is too great.

Yes, I am still paying the price.