God is still good, even when his people aren't

     Church hurt is real and it can cause a lot of damage. Church is supposed to be the place where we are safe, the place where we learn to be our full selves, the place where we find hope in a good, good Savior. But the church is also made up of humans and humans are messy and they make mistakes and humans hurt each other. Unfortunately, the hurt from messy and sinful humans can make the church no longer a safe place, a place where you never feel like yourself, a place where you forget the hope of the Savior. But I am here to tell you, that even when God's people are messy and sinful, even when that church is no longer safe, our God, HE is still good.

     I have spent a lot of time over the past few years working through and naming the hurts that were done to me at our last church. I have shared my side of the story, the part that very few knew because my voice was silenced. I have written about my hurt, I have shared with close friends about my hurt, I have done artwork about my hurt, I have cried about my hurt, and now I am working on letting it go. So I'm doing a little something different, I'm going to list out all the ways that God has shown me he is GOOD and the ways that God has reminded me that he hurts with me and he has not once left me in all of this. I am going to tell you about my good, good Savior and the evidences of his grace. 

    First and foremost, my husband is evidence of God's goodness and grace. That man took a beating at our old church and he fought so hard for me. He bore the brunt of the accusations and the interogations and never once made me feel like it was my fault. He has held me when I've cried, he has listened when I have vented or had to process out loud, he has read every single blog I've written to make sure I wasn't mis-remembering, and he has been by my side the whole time. Even when he was feeling the tug to go back into vocational ministry, he was gentle in telling me and re-assured me over and over again that he would not do anything until we were BOTH ready. He has supported me while I have gone to therapy and he has loved me so well. And he never once told me I was wrong, in fact, he told me that I was right to fight and to speak out, and that meant so much. 

   God has given me amazing friends. Friends who got the story as it was unfolding, friends who listened to me process, friends who have stood by me when I felt so isolated and alone at my old church. These friends helped get me through a really dark time and they are still holding tight to me today. I mean it when I say that my tribe is a lifeline for me. They have broke through the walls and pulled me to safety more times than I can count.

     My family has supported Aaron and me every step of the way, even when they didn't hold to our same convictions. That is really powerful. My family was able to see past the our difference in convictions to see the sin being done against us and they stood by us the whole way. They were also a safe haven for us that first weekend after leaving our old church - a place to be away from the chaos. For that I am forever grateful. 

     We may have left our old church, but by God's grace we did not leave THE church. Years before we entered the doors of our old church we were members at Sojourn. Aaron and I both were interns at various points and we served in many capacities during our time there. One of the elders that Aaron had been an intern for was now the main teaching pastor at our local Sojourn campus, so we knew that was were we would move our membership. And I cannot express enough how valuable and precious our time there has been. Our church is a special place, a place where so many of the members are healing together. We are a church for the broken and hurting and it is beautiful. We have incredible leadership that has stepped into our mess and loved us through it all. And I cannot tell you how important it has been for me personally to have multiple male leaders tell me that they are sorry for what happened to me, that what was done to me was wrong, and that my voice and presence not only matter, but are desired. What a powerful thing! They have given me the courage and weirdly the permission (I know now I didn't need it, but it was still important in the moment) to process my pain, name my hurts, and get help.

     I have been in therapy for almost a year now. I knew that if I was ever going to be able to step back into the role of pastor's wife, that I would need to work on my mental health and develop strategies to cope with the hard and mess that comes with doing ministry. I have spent time processing childhood trauma and unpacking the ways that I was seeing God through the wrong lens and every day I am little bit stronger. God created our brains to be able to heal and because of this therapy has been a wonderful experience for me.

     It took a long time, but I am able to see that God did not make me wrong and it is okay if I take up space. My voice is valuable and I have something to offer and I am more than someone's wife and mother. I am my own person and that is okay. God made me uniquiely me and I do not have to fit some manufactured mold. God gave me the Holy Spirit too and I am allowed to hold to my own convictions and opinions. I have been reminded that God is big enough for my doubts and my questions and my hurts.   

 There are some who want everything to be black or white, right or wrong, but life isn't like that - life is full of gray and nuance. But in the gray and the nuance and yes, even the mess, there is beauty. The ability to see God's goodness through the mess. The ability hold the tension of a good God whose people are sometimes not. The grace and mercy to hold tight to God when it feels like there is nothing else left. God never left me and I'm working to live more and more in that truth every day.

     So yes the church and God's people caused me a great deal of hurt because people are sinful and messy. In any relationship, be it between Christians or non-Christians, someone will get hurt, be it big or small. That's the risk of being vulnerable with another human. But God is not human, he is, simply put, God, the Great I AM, and God is always good, even when his people are not.

     

*All artwork featured was painted by me over the past year.*

So what happened in 2020?

      I have a bad habit of being really passionate about a thing, doing that thing everyday, then once the buzz or adrenaline wear off or life simply gets busy, I step away and then forget what I was so passionate about. That's why you will see literal years go by between blog posts. I forget until I remember.

     I also avoided the blog because I knew it was time - time to share what happened at our old church in 2020 - time to lay it all there - share my side of the story - explain why we made the choice to step down from ministry and leave that church. But every time I sat down to write, I just couldn't find the words. It was still so fresh and it still hurt so much and still made me so angry, that I would just stare at the screen, not able to put the words on paper.

     But I think it's time - so I'm going to start writing and see where it goes. 

     I think we can all agree that 2020 was the worst. We faced a global pandemic that put us on lockdown and we were isolated, and the busyness of life that normally kept us distracted was gone, so we were left to see things as they really were. I was in the camp of at first thinking this Covid thing was being blown out of portion until I realized the danger it posed to my youngest daughter - the daughter who had pulmonary hypertension and chronic lung disease and was in the group of people most at danger of dying from Covid. My daughter was in that small percentage of people that the rest of us were so desparately trying to protect. So in March, when lockdown went into effect, I stayed home with Ellie. We didn't go to church, we didn't go into the grocery store, we didn't do therapy, everything was done via video chats and live streams. Eventually I started keeping the big kids home as well so as not to risk them being exposed and then passing it along to their baby sister. So in our final months at our church, I only stepped in the building a handful of times, but watched the live stream every Sunday morning.

    But Covid wasn't the only hard part of 2020. 2020 was also the year that we watched George Floyd be killed at the hands of police. 2020 was the year that learned of the murder of Ahmaud Arbery at the hands of 3 white men who literally chased him down in their vehicles because they decided he looked like someone who might have broken into a construction site. 2020 was the year that Breonna Taylor was murdered in her home in the middle of the night after LMPD issued a no knock warrant that we later found was retrived under false information. 2020 was the year that we watched protests happen all across the nation calling for change, for the end to systemic racism in our judicial system. And I was a vocal advocate, using my voice and privilege to call out the injustice I was seeing, to declare the truth that "Black Lives Matter". 

    I remember the weekend after George Floyd was murdered I looked at my husband, who was the worship leader at our church, and I asked him, "what are you going to say on Sunday? I don't think you can remain silent on this issue." I had this overwhelming feeling that being silent was being complicit in what was happening and that to love God and to love his image bearers meant speaking - pointing out the injustice, fighting for change, and opening our mouths to speak. We could not remain silent anymore.

     So I started posting on social media. A lot. I was posting pretty much every day, sometimes multiple times a day. And I was using the hashtag, #BlackLivesMatter and #BLM, not because I supported the organization (because I didn't and still don't), but because as I continued to watch black bodies be murder I couldn't help but see the black people in my life. My nephew, who has autism - I couldn't help but think of how easiliy Elijah McClain could have been my nephew. My brother-in-law, who travels all over the country as a musician - I couldn't help but think that Ahmaud Arbery could easily have been him. My neighbors two houses down, who also happen to be the parents of a friend - I couldn't help but think of how easily the wife could have been Breonna Taylor. And the list goes on and on. I knew the stories, I knew the systemic racism, the implicit bias that was pointed at them, and I knew that their beautiful black lives mattered. So I used the hashtag and I made the posts.   

Then my son and I attended two protests. The first was in Louisville with other families. We made signs and we stood on a busy street in a predominately white part of town and shouted the worth of black lives. We stood in solidarity with our black brothers and sisters saying, we see you, we see what is happening, and we will not stand for it anymore. I think my favorite memory from that day was watching the faces of the black people driving by, the smiles of being seen. And watching my son soak it all in and having hard conversations about what we were trying to do. We also attended a protest in New Albany where we wrote the names of those killed by police on the sidewalks and kneeled on the hot sidewalk for 8 1/2 minutes in silence. We were putting our privilege where our mouth was. And this was all shared on social media.

     Not long after my son and I attended the protests, Aaron was called into a meeting with our interim pastor and the pastoral intern (you may remember him from earlier blog posts as the Sunday School teacher who dismissed me and treated women poorly). As Aaron sat down, this man dropped a STACK of papers on the desk. He had actually printed off every post I had made over the prior months and wanted Aaron to explain them. He wanted Aaron to make account for the things I had said - he wanted to know why Aaron couldn't control his woman. Aaron understandably got very upset and defended me and was less than pleased when he came home that afternoon to relay what had happened. And he did encourage me to make sure that all that I was saying was rooted in Scripture.

     So I kept posting, but I tried to make sure I was very clear that I was upset because of my love for

Jesus. I believe that we are all image bearers of God and that as such deserve dignity and protection. I believe what Scripture says in Micah 6:8 "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" [ESV]. I believe what it is says in Ecclesiastes 3: 1 and 7, that "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven...a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;" [ESV]. I hold that our call is that of Isaiah 1:17 "learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause." [ESV]. And that we are to do as it says in Proverbs 31:8-9 (which by the way is the same scripture we love to quote on Mother's Day as to the epitome of a Godly woman) "Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and the needy." [ESV]. I was outspoken BECAUSE of my love for Jesus, not in contradiction to it. While I do believe that the gospel is ultimately what everyone needs - to see their need for Jesus and his salvation - I also believe that you can't feed empty bellies Jesus and that sometimes people don't need to be given a pamphlet, but instead need your presence beside them in the fight.

     Then another meeting was called, this time with a church member who also raised conerns that because I was using a hashtag that I was now a full supporter of an organization and that I was now an appostate who had lost my salvation. And I should mention these concerns were not brought to me, the person doing the posting and using the hashtag, no the concerns were brought to Aaron and he was once again implicitly told to go get control of his woman. I can't remember, but I think there was a third meeting between Aaron, the interim pastor and the pastoral intern and finally it was decided that Aaron would sit down with the personnel committee and the deacons to answer questions and give defense for the things I was saying.

     I still remember the day that Aaron came home and told me that because of everything, our interim pastor had decided to not move forward with Aaron's ordination. That was the first real gut punch of all of this. While Aaron was on staff at the church and was leading worship every Sunday and preaching in a regular rotation, he has not yet been ordained as a pastor. But he had gone through all the steps, he had been vetted, he had sat before a counsel of other pastors for hours and answered questions about doctrine and his theology and at the end of it all, these men had recommended him to be ordained as a pastor. Then because I had the audacity to speak out about injustice, one man decided to withhold that from Aaron and that hurt so much. Not long after, Aaron told me that we were being asked not to make anymore social media posts until after the meeting with the deacons and personnel committee. So we complied and I stopped posting.

     In the days leading up to the meeting, Aaron was provided a list of questions that would most likely be asked so that he could have some time to think and prepare. Aaron then offered, more than once to arrange childcare so that I could attend as well. It seemed only appropriate that I be a part of the conversation since it was my words that had caused all this. And he was told, more than once that it was not necessary for me to be there. So Aaron went into a room and spent hours being questioned and having to make an account and defend me. And he walked out of the meeting feeling defeated and less than hopeful about our future at the church.

     The day before we were to leave on our annual vacation, Aaron had a meeting with our interim pastor, where he was presented with the "first steps" that would need to be taken to move foward with reconciling and staying in leadership at the church. In a gist, we were to apologize for what we said and any discomfort or offense it may have caused, I was to remove all of my posts involving "black lives matter", all hashtags, and any future posts would need to be run past the interim pastor to make sure they were "appropriate". We were told that our convictions were not wrong or unbiblical and in fact Aaron had made a strong biblical argument for them, and that while we could still hold to those convictions, we would need to remain silent about them in public. There may have been more, but this is what I remember. Aaron almost drove up to the church the next morning before we left town to turn in his resignation, but ultimately we decided to take the week to pray and sit on everything before we made any decisions. Then when we returned home Aaron submitted is resignation and agreed to stay on for the next 30 days. 

     This was such a hard decision, but ultimately, we felt it was best for the church as a whole. You see our church had already been through so much, including a really nasty split that had left only a handful of families. We could stay and fight and most likely we would win, but at what cost? How many people would be caught in the cross fire and hurt? For the sake of the unity of the body, we were going to step down and the public reason would be because of a difference of conscience, but not of any fault or any disqualification. We had asked all involved to honor our wishes to not give specifics to the congregation, again because we believed unity in the body was the most important thing in this situation. And then a week after Aaron's resignation was annouced, the interim pastor got up on Sunday morning and told everyone that it was because of some social media posts and that was the final nail in the coffin for me. I knew that we were done at that church and would never be back.

     It's been almost 3 years and I still get angry about it. I am mostly angry for how little I was valued in the whole situation. Not once in MONTHS of concerns did anyone ever speak directly to me or ask me what I meant. Assumptions and judgments were made about me without ever once asking me for clarification. I was deemed a problem for Aaron to deal with and as such no one needed to actually speak to me. And that was the worst part. It was MY words, MY posts, MY actions that were cause for concern, but not once was I allowed to speak in my own defense. I was a woman under the headship of my husband and therefore my status was less than. I was taking up too much space and this was a way to silence me. And it worked, I haven't been the same since.      

My thoughts on Turning Red

There has been a lot of conversation lately all over social media about Disney Pixar's new movie "Turning Red" and I thought, why not add my thoughts to the echo chamber of social media. For the record please know that I am speaking as conservative Christian mom raising a teenage boy and pre-teenage girl who has actually seen the movie. 

The most common complaints I have seen about this movie, aside from the period issue, is that this movie depicts a 13 year old girl who thinks she is grown, is disrespectful and rebellious towards her mother and has "sexy" dreams about boys and this movie is brainwashing our daughters to think that it is normal and acceptable to go against your parents and only seek out the advice of your friends. So here is what I saw, when again, I actually watched the movie. 

As a parent of a 13 year old and 11 year old, who most times think they are grown, and as a former 13 year old girl who at many times thought having "teen" at the end of my age magically made me an adult, this was accurate. Mei, the main character, talks a big game about being "her own woman" now that she is 13, but then rushes home from school everyday to help her parents in their family temple. She acts confident and independent at school but is desparetely seeking the approval of her mother. For a girl who claims to be her a grown up, she works hard at school to make straight A's and proudly presents those grades to her parents and lights up at their praise. I said, out loud, multiple times, "oh that poor girl" because I could see the huge amount of pressure she was putting on herself to please her mother. 

Yes, there was "rebellion" in the movie. Mei decided to "rebel" against her mother and to embrace her panda and make some money to buy tickets to a concert with her friends. Again, I speak as a parent to kids around Mei's age and there is just a lot of assuming and feeling entitled to things at this age. My kids will walk in the room and declare, "oh sweet tonight is game night at so-and-so's house, I'm so excited." Nevermind that my child hasn't once asked to go to this event or even mentioned it prior to 2 hours before it is supposed to start, they just assume they can go. Or my kids come inside from spending a few hours outside and they are holding cash, because without telling me they have been canvassing the neighborhood offering to rake leaves or pick weeds or whatever to make some money on the assumption I will take them to the store to spend said money. 13 year olds assume a lot of things and make impulsive decisions, but they don't do it because they hate or disrespect their parents. They just want to do something and they do it. Instead of refusing to let your kids see this behavior on screen (which by the way they figure out how to do all on their sinful own), watch it and TALK WITH YOUR KIDS. Talk about what is going on and what you expect instead. Also side note, so much of the conflict of this movie would have been avoided had the parents, especially the mom, just been having conversations with her kid. 

Finally, the thing that has frustrated me the most. I see a lot of people talking about how Mei has "sexy dreams" about a boy and how the movie is trying to normalize sexuality for our poor innocent children. So, here is what actually happens. Mei is doodling in her notebook and draws a picture about the boy who works at the local convienent store that her friends all think is cute. She starts drawing a shirtless picture, adding unrealistic abs and muscular arms and then draws pictures of this boy as a merman. There are pictures of Mei and her merman dream boy embracing, and maybe a picture of a kiss or almost kiss. Mom comes in and Mei tries to hide the notebook, because she is embarrassed. Mom sees the notebook, sees the pictures, and FLIPS OUT. Mom is assuming so many things and then storms down to the convienent store to confront this boy, that by the way has never seen or spoken to Mei, accusing him of taking advantage of Mei and poor Mei is so ashamed and embarrassed that she can't speak. We then see Mei pacing in her room in the middle of a full on shame spiral and this is the first time the word "sexy" is used. As Mei is shaming herself, she asks herself, "why did you do that? why did you draw those sexy things? you are a bad girl". Mei was innocently exploring feelings for a boy and her mom completely overreacted and heaped so much shame on her daughter. 

As I said before, so much of the movie's conflict could have been avoided simply by the mom being willing to have honest conversations with her daughter. The most clear example was that Mei will turn into a panda, which Mei didn't know about until she woke up as a panda. This is where the period parrallel comes, Mei was not prepapred for the changes her body was going through because the grown ups in her life were too embarrassed or thought they had more time. But in the more nuanced moments of the movie, communication between mom and daughter was what was missing. When Mom found the notebook of the "sexy" drawings, instead of opening the lines of communication so that her daughter would feel comfortable coming to her about these feelings, the overreaction told Mei that her feelings were bad and had to be hidden. 

I've seen so many people criticize how the movie doesn't portray Mei going to her mom for guidance, but watching the movie you can see why she doesn't. The generational trauma of her family's culture is on full display - parents are to be honored and obeyed at all costs, children are to perform and behave in a manner that brings honor, and anything uncomfortable is hidden away and not spoken of. Speaking from real experience, if you want your kids to come to your for guidance and to tell you things about their lives, you as the parent have to foster that from an early age. You have to have the awkward and hard conversations early and often. You have to allow questions and not freak out over them. When your kid comes to with you with something think you won't like, how you react matters and tells them so much more than your words. 

These are just the thoughts of one more mom and most likely aren't groundbreaking or opinions that haven't already been expressed, but I just wanted to add my voice. Turning Red was a good movie and provided opportunities for conversations with my kids. I am a huge fan of recent children's movies that are attacking generational trauma head-on and portraying cycle breakers. I'm not saying this was my favorite movie, because it wasn't, but it isn't the brainwashing, sexualizing, rebellion-fostering movie that I see many in the evangelical camp are making it out to be. Your kids are not going to watch this movie and start rebelling against their parents or starting twerking in the streets or have sex dreams about boys. Your kids will laugh, love the cute red panda, and if you're lucky, will ask you questions. 

I think we sometimes believe that movies have a lot more power than they actually do. We think that if my kid sees something on a movie they will immediately go out and do said thing. But movies just don't have that kind of power, especially when we go into a movie understanding this is FICTION and meant to be enjoyed. Again, communication with our kids has a huge impact on them, so if you talk to your kids about how we view movies, they will often see movies the way you taught them. Communication with kids about how we see the world results in our kids seeing the world the way we want them to. Our kids learn from us, if we are willing to teach them.

False Dichotomies and Harry Potter

    

Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash

    I became a fan of the Harry Potter series as an adult. I read the first book when I was around 34 years old, but quickly became a fan. In fact, I would go so far as to call myself a Potter-Head. I took the official quiz to know my house (Hufflepuff), I own a ridiculous amount of merchandise, own multiple copies of the books (illustrated editions included), own all the movies, and even make my kids have Harry Potter themed birthday parties when they turn 11. I fell in love with the stories and the characters. But there is a reason why I was 34 before I ever touched a Harry Potter book.

     I was raised in a small town in North Carolina by two loving parents who loved Jesus. My family was always involved in church, and if the doors were open, odds were good that we were there. Church life was a huge part of my upbringing. Over the years, my parents dove deeper into their faith and the outpouring of that took some different turns.  

     My mom worked part time at a Christian bookstore for a period of time and became very good friends with some of the other employees. A few of these people were heavy into spiritual warfare - they annoited people and objects with oil as protection and there were even stories of them casting out demons. There was a time when my parents were very involved in this as well. The fear of a demon getting a hold on someone in our home became so great that my parents made us get rid of books and CDs. In middle school I loved R.L. Stine and juvenile horror stories - bought them at every book fair or ordered them every time the Scholastic flyer came home with me. But when my parents became deeply involved in spiritual warfare, all those books had to go. Anything deemed demonic or evil was thrown out.

     The first Harry Potter book was released the year I turned 15 and my parents were definitely in the camp that it was evil and demonic and taught little kids how to do witchcraft. They believed what someone told them and so I was not allowed to read the books. At the time it didn't really bother me because I thought it was a book for little kids any way and I was rebelling in other ways, so this just wasn't a battle I wanted to fight.

     Over the years, I too believed what I had been raised to believe, Harry Potter was evil and taught kids about witchcraft and not something a Christian should read. It wasn't until my senior year of college that I really began to unpack this falsehood and realized that my view of the series was most likely wrong. But even with this shift in thinking, I still wasn't sure how I felt about the series or how to reconcile it with my faith.

      Fast forward many years and we are friends with an amazing family who have a son the same age as our son. This is the family we have been doing life with and I felt comfortable being vulnerable and asking tough questions with them. We were hanging out with them one weekend and Harry Potter came up because her son was starting the series. So I frankly asked her how they handled Harry Potter being Christians. We had a long conversation and I walked away finally realizing that this is truly a fiction series, there is nothing demonic or evil about it, and Christians can absolutely read and enjoy the series.

      That night on the way home, Aaron and I talked for a while about the books and I brought up the fact that E would want to read the books since his best friend was reading them, and I should probably read them so we can discuss the books with our son as he reads them. So I went to the library and checked out Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I probably read the whole book over the course of a weekend and I enjoyed it for what it was, a well written children's book with an intriguing story and a twist I didn't see coming. Then I read the next book and the next book and so on. I fell in love with the series after reading book four, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I became a Potter-head after finishing the series. I was hooked and have since read the series a few times and watched the movies oh so many times.

     The first time my love for Harry Potter became an issue within the church was after E's 11th birthday party. We had a Harry Potter themed party complete with sorting hat cupcakes, games themed after Hogwart's classes and even a "divination" magic trick. E wanted to invite a new friend from church, but having spent some time with the family, I had a feeling they may not approve of Harry Potter. Because I wanted to honor their family rules, I sent the mom a message detailing everything that would be at the party, and ultimately the mom decided that her son would not attend the party. I understood, said as much to the mom, and walked away from the conversation thinking all was well. 

     It wasn't until a week or two later that this mom asked to speak with Aaron and I in his office after the Sunday service. During the conversation, this mom repented and asked our forgiveness because she had been judging our parenting style and looking down on us because we let our kids read Harry Potter. We offered forgiveness and had a long conversation with her about personal convictions and Christian liberty and how we as a family did not feel there was anything wrong with reading Harry Potter. The conversation ended well enough, but the mom made it clear that she still believed we were wrong and that we just needed to learn what she had learned and we would come to realize it too.

     While I admired this woman's willingness to seek repentance for what could have been left a "secret sin", I never felt fully comfortable around her again. We were a part of the same circle of friends through the end of our time at our old church and I felt like I always had to guard my words or justify my parenting choices when around her. I felt like I was always under a microscope and every choice I made was being scrutinized. This woman and her family would go on to bring "concerns" about my husband and I to the church leadership and played a big role in our decision to leave the church. 

      The next time my love (or "obsession") of Harry Potter was called into question came in 2020. In a future blog I will go into more detail of what happened that year, but short form, we were brought before church leadership to account for and defend some social media posts and beliefs and were ultimately told that while we were not wrong in our convictions, we would not be allowed to talk about our convictions publicly moving forward. We came to the hard decision to step down from ministry and leave our church. It was after we made the public announcement that we were leaving that a woman, whom I loved very much, came to Aaron with concerns about our family's Harry Potter obsession.

     An older female member approached Aaron at the church one weekday after the announcement was made. She told Aaron that she was concerned about our family's obsession with Harry Potter and the spiritual warfare that follows it. Aaron talked to her at length about our theology on films and how our kids absolutely understand these books and movies are make-believe. He also went on to explain how the church is okay with sorcery and witchcraft, just look at the Lord of the Rings series or Chronicles of Narnia. He also made the point that liking Harry Potter is no different than liking Star Wars. But in the end, she believed that our "obsession" was wrong and was allowing a foothold for spiritual warfare for the devil. She also implied that all the things that were happening to us and our having to leave was brought about because of my love of a children's fiction series.

     I need to make it known that I adored this woman. She was like a grandmother to my children. I loved her, thought the world of her, and when I found out about the conversation she had with Aaron, I was taken by great surprise. Then I was hurt and then I was just angry. I felt like she blamed my love of Harry Potter for the bad things happening to us. Nevermind the actual facts of what was happening and the mistreatment of us- it was the Harry Potter.

     The few months leading up to this conversation were some of the hardest of our lives, and most definitely the hardest of our ministry. We were mistreated, misrepresented, and had our understanding of the gospel and God's word called into question. We were called names, had charges for church discipline brought against us, and we felt so alone and hurt. I no longer felt welcome in my church and my heart was broken over my husband losing his ministry. It was a horrible time in which many wrongs were done to us and to have someone minimize that and put the blame for sins being done against me and my family on my love of a book series was infuriating. 

     I spent so much of my time at our old church hiding parts of myself and this was just one more example. I felt like I always had to justify my choices and work so hard to prove that I really did love Jesus. Through this time of healing I have come to see just how unfair this was. I am thankful that I have come to a place where I realize that I can love Harry Potter and love Jesus, I don't have to have choose. God gave me a love of literature and critically speaking the Harry Potter books are incredibly well written and really good stories, and there is nothing wrong with me acknowledging and appreciating that. 

     There is a false dichotomy at play here - this idea that loving Harry Potter automatically means I'm letting Satan have a foothold in my life. And false dichotomies played a part in our leaving. Life is full of nuance and very rarely do we actually need to draw a hard line in the sand on issues that are not central to the gospel. We serve a big God who extends much grace to us and as long as we believe the core of the gospel, "that we enter God's kingdom through God's cross by God's grace" (Northstar Catechism  (c) 2013 Sojourn Community Church), then so many other things we fight about are tertiary and up to personal liberty and conviction. When we make secondary things the big things, we place an unnecessary weight on people to fit into a certain mold and of people who prescribe their preferences to others.

     I share my story to give hope to others who are feeling the weight of false dichotomies - that to love Jesus means you have to give up everything in your life that doesn't involve reading the Bible, listening to Christian music, or going to church. We serve a creative God who gave us the ability to create and enjoy the good things in his creation. Loving a part of creation does not mean you don't love Jesus - you can love both. And Harry Potter doesn't open the door to Satan and his minions, it just doesn't.

Peace out 2021 - I won't miss you

      The second half of 2021 was REALLY HARD and a lot of awful. 2021 was harder for me than 2020, but it didn't start out that way. In fact, 2021 started out filled with promise.

     At the beginning of 2021 I decided to take control of my health and started doing Noom and it was great. I developed a healthier relationship with food and was the most active I had been in many years. I even did two 5Ks in 2021, one of them I RAN half of it!! And there were things in 2021 I was looking forward to, especially my fifteenth wedding anniversary.

     Aaron and I were so excited because we had the money for us to go to Disney World to celebrate our anniversary. We were going to spend our actual anniversary at EPCOT and then spend a day at Hollywood Studios and visit the new Star Wars land. It was the first time we would be going away together since bringing Ellie home in 2019 and the expectations were high. We made our dinner reservation and made the lists of all the booths we wanted to visit during the Food and Wine Festival. It was supposed to be a magical second honeymoon.

     The night before we were to leave Aaron made the comment that he wasn't feeling well and thought maybe one of the burgers he had for lunch wasn't fully cooked. By the next morning, Aaron was feeling worse, spent most of the day in bed, and I wasn't sure if we were going to leave that afternoon. Aaron convinced himself that he had a bad case of food poisoning and by sheer force of will got up and we headed to the airport.

     It was a pretty miserable flight for my guy, but he was rallying and determined to go to Disney World the next day. He thought he pulled a muscle vomitting because he was having a hard time standing up straight and was moving very slowly. The next morning we got up and he was still determined to go to EPCOT, but I insisted on renting a wheelchair to make getting around easier for him. 

     So I spent our anniversary pushing my husband around EPCOT in a wheelchair and forcing him to drink plenty of water and pushing food in him. I was fighting disappointment and trying to not let my unmet expectations turn to resentment towards Aaron - after all it wasn't his fault that he got food poisoning. I kept reminding myself that this was what marriage really looks like, sacraficing and making the most of even the worst situations. We made it through the day, but it came at a cost and poor Aaron was exhausted and ready to leave before the nighttime show.

     Friday morning I woke up early and asked Aaron (for probably the 500th time) if he wanted me to try for boarding passes of Rise of the Resistance and he said yes. So, I tried and by God's grace did NOT get one. Then I started looking up Aaron's symptoms myself and I realized that maybe this wasn't food poisoning after all. I told Aaron that I thought we needed to go Urgent Care, which he didn't fight. Urgent Care took one look at Aaron and told him to go straight to the closest ER.

     Within a few hours it was confirmed that Aaron had appendicitis. A few more hours later and Aaron went back to surgery. The surgeon came out and confirmed our fear, Aaron's appendix had burst (probably Wednesday evening on the plane), his abdomen was full of excrement and he was septic. Aaron spent the next few days in a hospital in Florida with a tube coming out of his abdomen. I came close to losing my husband and it was scary.

     Once we finally made it home, it would be another 2 weeks before he would be able to go back to work or lift anything. Then a couple weeks after that he would develop the beginnings of an abscess and have to go back on antibiotics to treat it. It would be September before Aaron started to get back to normal. 

     During that time I stopped prioritizing myself and my health. I was focused on being Ellie's primary caregiver and Aaron's caregiver and keeping everyone alive. I stopped being mindful of my eating and I stopped working out. I made excuses and before long I just felt icky and crummy. I lost myself and I was miserable.

     In the last few months of the year I also started doing a lot of personal reflection and processing of past hurts and trauma. I started blogging again and sharing/processing the hurts from our prior church. I also started digging into the baggage I have carried from my childhood and started sharing with Aaron things he didn't even know. I've spent the last month or so really digging deep and processing a lot of stuff and mess and baggage. It's been hard work, but I know it's worth it.

     I decided a few weeks ago that I'm sick of being miserable and unhappy and that it was my own dagum fault. So I decided to make some changes. I finally made the appointment with the chiropractor that I've been putting off for years. I restarted Noom. I got a haircut, not just a trim, but an actual styled haircut. I'm working on setting boundaries and keeping them. I'm having the hard conversations. I'm leaning into my tribe of women and being vulnerable with people again. I will not feel mom guilt or believe the lie that I'm being selfish by doing things for myself. I'm taking back my life.

Woman, Don't Speak

      I hold to a complementarian worldview of gender roles. I believe that God made us male and female and that we have separate roles that are meant to complement each other. I believe that wives should submit to their husbands and that husbands should love their wives as Christ loves the church. I believe that the title of pastor is reserved for men, but that doesn't mean women can't be leaders. I believe that men and women are equally image bearers of God and that our heavenly Father does not see one sex as lesser than the other. I believe we are all gifted in different ways and that we should use those gifts to bring glory to God. I believe both men and women should learn solid theology and that we should serve one another, calling each other to holiness.

     But I have also seen how complementarianism has been twisted by some into toxic patriarchy, where women are not equal image bearers, but are instead seen as less than. Where "wives submit to your husbands" is twisted to "women submit to men". Where "only men can hold the office of pastor" is twisted to "only men can be leaders of any kind". Where a woman's lesser than status means she cannot even speak in mixed company as she might be trying to teach men. Where being submissive means being a silent doormat who cannot make decisions. Where a woman's role is diminished to peaceful, homemaker only and any woman who deviates from that is looked down upon. This is wrong and disgusting and has no place in God's kingdom.

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

     At our old church I experienced this toxic patriarchy, not from the church as a whole, but from a few, and from one person in particular who would go on to hold a leadership role and ultimately played a role in our eventual departure.  It eventually got to the point where I didn't want to be in the same room as this person because of how he treated me. When we first started at our former church I was working full time in an office job and our kids attended public school, which were automatically two strikes against me. I also had attended Women's School at Sojourn a few years prior which Aaron has said was like a mini-seminary and I learned quite a bit of theology. I was outspoken with my beliefs and my knowledge and I was pretty confident in who I was a woman. As I sit here now processing what happened I am just now realizing how so much of that was beaten out of me over our time there.

    Sometimes the toxic beating was subtle - a comment about my parenting or housekeeping skills. The feeling of judgement because I worked and wasn't always available to serve at every event. The feeling of isolation from the other pastors' wives. The comments made about me to my husband. The expectation to fit a mold of what everyone else thought a pastor's wife should be. The slyly hidden "rebukes" for things I let my kids watch or read or listen to that were just judgements hiding behind a farce of caring.  But sometimes the toxic patriarchy was blatant and in my face and I was met with it early in our time there.  

    When we first started attending this church we joined an adult Sunday School class that was geared towards couples. The class was led by a couple, the husband being the person who would end up causing our family the most hurt. Aaron and I attended together for the first few weeks, but it didn't take long before Aaron was pulled into serving and I was left to attend alone. Eventually I found excuses to not attend because I could not handle the way this man treated me, and women in general.

     This man led the class, which was meant to be a time of discussion, as more of a lecture in which he was the professor. And it quickly became clear that if HE asked a question, especially an academic or theological one, he expected a man to answer it. Women were free to answer the questions asked by his wife or the "feelings" type questions, but not the deep, theological questions. There were several occasions when this man would ask an academic or theological question and I would answer, often correctly, but my answer would be ignored only to have a man in the room give almost the same answer and that man would be praised. It didn't take long for me to realize that my voice was not valued in that room, so I just stopped going. 

     In the beginning, it was easy to just avoid this man. I served in different ministries and he was not yet in leadership, so was not in our close circle. When Aaron first started serving in leadership, first as an intern and then eventually being on staff, we were serving with other couples. But over time these couples would leave to serve in other churches and eventually our circle included him.

    I wasn't the only woman to have issues with this man. His view of women was that we were hysterical and emotional and not to be trusted. When he would hurt a woman, he had to be forced to apologize and then the woman was expected to immediately forgive him. His view of masculinity was rough and rugged and honestly toxic and he was very quick to judge any man who didn't fit that idea. He was legalistic and would often prescribe his preferences, that's to say he would teach (or preach) his personal preferences or conscience as if it was biblical law. He was a man who had decent orthodoxy (beliefs/theology), but lacked greatly in orthopraxy (biblical practice) and did not see the importance of treating people, especially women, well.

     As this man was brought into the circle of leadership at the church, my distaste for him only grew. He was extremely critical of my husband and rarely in ways that were edifying. I found myself being angry at him a lot, because of the way he treated my husband and how he treated me and other women. And when "the event" occured in 2020, the event that eventually led to us leaving the church, his attitude towards me was dismissive, at best - he only ever spoke to Aaron and it was always in a "man, why can't you control your woman" tone. This man had issue with things I had said, but never once came to me about those issues, he only EVER spoke to Aaron. I felt as though I wasn't worthy to even be spoken to, as if my voice did not matter, and I was just an out of line, hysterical woman who had forgotten her place.

     I don't think I fully understood just how much I allowed to be taken from me until I sat down and actually started writing it all out. When we started attending that church I was a different person and let me tell you, I really miss her. I allowed other people's judgements and criticism to creep into my subconscious and I put on a mask. I allowed other people's treatment (or mistreatment) of me and my husband to take root in my heart making me angry and bitter. I allowed fear of what other people thought of me to silence my voice and make me feel like I didn't have anything of value to offer. I allowed who I truly was to be squashed and beaten out of me. By the time we left the church, I didn't recognize the woman in the mirror any longer.

     My hope is two-fold through this process. First, I hope to give some validation to the other women, especially pastors' wives, who have gone through something similar. I want those women to know they are seen and known and not alone. Secondly, I hope to find that woman I used to be. The woman who was excited about her faith and had a voice willing to speak and share all the Lord had done for her. The woman who knew who she was and wasn't afraid to just be herself. The woman God made me to be and who didn't feel like she had to meet some arbitrary standard that someone else set. I hope to find me again and in doing so reclaim my love and passion for the creator who made me. It's so messy and painful and sometimes it's hard to find the right words. And the fear and doubt and judgement and all the other mess still creep in and I just have to acknowledge that they are there and keep moving forward. 

     I've spent so many years suffering in silence, speaking of what happened to only a few people. Our exit from our former church felt abrupt to many, but there was so much that happened behind the scenes that so few knew about. I've held onto this anger and bitterness for too long. I'm ready to be free and this is how I move towards that freedom. I will not be silent and I will not hide anymore. I will share what happened and I will move on. I will process the hurt in the way that makes sense to me, which is writing it down and putting it all out there. And I trust that God is going to bring beauty from the ashes and he will restore.

Less Than

      Yesterday, we went to the funeral home to visit with a family from our old church whose father/grandfather recently passed. While we were there we ran into several people from our old church. There were lots of hugs and "we miss you guys" and "how are the kids". We ended up spending almost two hours there catching up with old friends. It was a nice time, even if I was exhausated by the end and my voice was shot. 😁

     As we were driving home, Aaron asked me how I was doing after seeing so many people from the place that has been a great source of hurt for me. I could honestly answer that I was doing okay. It was nice to see everyone and pretty much all the people who caused me hurt have since left the church. I told him that there was really only one point when bad memories were stirred up and it's one the hurts that I haven't wanted to write about yet because I'm still processing it. So I'm going to tackle another "easy" one.

    Aaron and I enjoy the occasional adult beverage. We enjoy touring bourbon distilleries and having a nice drink out during date night. And of course I have been known to post pictures on social media, because that's what people do. We believe that drinking alcohol is a case of personal conviction - drinking alcohol itself is not a sin, but drunkeness is, so we always drink in moderation.

     Back when Aaron first started interning at the church, the topic of alcohol came up in a conversation with our pastor. Our pastor agreed that drinking is not a sin, but he told Aaron that we needed to take down all pictures or references to alcohol from our social media. We could still drink as our conscience permitted, but we just couldn't let anyone know about it.

     So we spent our vacation that year going through YEARS of social media posts to hide any picture of a distillery tour or post of a selfie with a drink on the table. I also had to be mindful anytime I took a picture from that point on to make sure there wasn't any alcohol in the background or if we were somewhere with alcohol, like a bar or distillery, I couldn't actually tell anyone where we were. I remember being so angry and not hiding my frustration from Aaron. I thought it was stupid that while our pastor agreed drinking alcohol is not a sin, we hide to remove it as if it was. But I still did it, even if begrudgingly, because that's what a good pastor's wife does. She submits to her husband and church leadership and does whatever is necessary to help her husband fulfill his calling.

     This was the first time I remember feeling like I had to hide parts of who I am. It was communicated to me, whether intentionally or unintentionally, that there was an image I was expected to put forth and there were parts of me that did not fit that image and thus were not good enough. I had to be one person in public and a different person in private. When no one was around, I could be my full self, but if anyone was around, I was expected to wear a mask and fit the mold.

Photo by Motoki Tonn on Unsplash

     Over the years, this feeling that I wasn't good enough and that I had to hide parts of myself would just continue to grow. When I would walk into church, I had to make sure my "face" was on. I had to be careful of the words I spoke. I could never be truly open or vulnerable with other members because then they might see those "less than" parts of me. The Lisa our church saw was not the real Lisa, because the real Lisa was not good enough.

     This last year as been a time for me to find the real Lisa again. I have worked on being real, and not apologizing for who I am. I have tried to stop hiding parts of myself and accept the parts that for so long I was made to feel were "less than". I still have a ways to go, but I'm making my way back to me. I'm hoping that when I find myself again that I will be able to see that I am exactly who God made me to be. I'm hoping that at the end of this journey I will be able to crash that mold that I've been attempting to squeeze myself into and be fully and uniquely me.