Welcome back to part two of my testimony of church/Christian-inflicted hurt, and victory over it. When I left off, I had told you about getting kicked out of a church for the heinous act of leading 24 children to the Lord at Vacation Bible School. I had been really hurt by a series of events, starting with the death of my childhood church.
Following our expulsion from the second church, we joined a new (old actually, as it had been founded in 1927), better church. I was accepted and loved. Evangelism was normal and acceptable there. The pastor would take the youth group out "soul winning" as he called it. Instead of getting in trouble for it, I was encouraged to do it. The church was a bit more conservative. They used the King James Bible, and mostly sang hymns. I embraced these things, because they felt safe to me. In fact, because I contrasted them to the church where I had been hurt (which used the NIV and sang more contemporary praise songs), I went through a King James Only stage that I have alluded to in other posts on here. I still love the King James Bible, and use it frequently. But I digress. I was still hurting and distrustful. If someone was kind to me, I wondered what their angle was.
That next summer, I had the opportunity to serve as a summer missionary with Child Evangelism Fellowship (the ministry we serve with now). They have a program for teens called Christian Youth in Action (or CYIA). I was really nervous to go, because I was terrified of being rejected, or having my body made fun of. I still carried that shame. But deep in my heart, I knew God was calling me to go, so I did. My life has never been the same. That was the best summer of my life. I encountered Jesus in a deep way. I met godly teens who became my friends, and accepted me. I felt included and normal for the first time in years. Sometimes, even today, I lean on the strength of that time. I was refreshed and renewed, and I know God met me there. The icing on the cake was that a few families from the church I got kicked out of sent their kids to some of the 5-day clubs we taught, and I got to see some of them come to faith. Two different parents from that church wrote me the sweetest thank-you notes for sharing Christ with their children. Clearly, not everyone from that church had a problem with me. Those cards they sent represent redemption to me, and I still have them to this day.
I often think of Mary Magdalene's encounter with Jesus after the resurrection (John 20:11-18). He had delivered her, and changed her life. It must have seemed all joy was gone when He died. She was so overcome with grief that she didn't recognize the Risen Lord at first, until he said her name in verse 16. Jesus' very presence must have flooded her soul with joy and resurrection power! That's how I felt that summer. It was as if Jesus said my name, and joy was restored to me. He is the joy-giver. I started referring to that summer as a "prelude to Heaven". I remember all the friends I made wrote letters to each other, and we'd sign them, "In Heaven if not sooner..." and then our names. I saw Jesus in those around me, but mostly, I enocuntered His presencre in my heart. Psalm 16:11 says, "...in thy presence is fullness of joy.... That is so true. That's how the Apostle Paul was able to write (from Prison) in Philippians 4:12, I have leanred the secret of being content. Jesus is enough. He fulfills us deep inside.
While the healing had begun, I still had a broken heart and didn't know what to do about it. I got addicted to doing ministry, because I wanted to encounter that joy, and felt it more when I served. As a college student, I had a chance to serve on a mission trip to Zambia. It was the most significant, wonderful, terrible, life-changing experience. I experienced a lot of hurt from fellow Christians, and I'll only briefly go into it, but really it was compounded by my much deeper, earlier hurt.
A young man--a fellow missionary--demonstrated an interest in me right away at training. He almost acted like a stalker. He followed me around, stared at me, made weird little passes at me. What was I supposed to do with it? He wasn't acting normal. I had no idea how to respond. He didn't initiate normal conversation, or ask me to go on a walk or anything like that. He made passive-aggressive references to sex, and that really freaked me out. The thing was, I was attracted to him and interested, but didn't know how to respond to his odd advances. It wasnt all crazy, though. We had some really significant moments doing evangelism together, and he treated me like a hero for leading someone to Christ. That did a lot for my heart (which had been shattered by being rejected after witnessing). He told me he wanted to be a missionary because of me. I wondered if this was my future husband. He was pressing into a very needy part of my heart, the part that craved approval for doing evangelism. There was an attraction. But there was also confusion, because he'd go back to being weird and over the top. He made really bad passes at me, and one night, he came onto me too strongly. He hadn't made anything offiicial with me, but he was trying to get me to get romantic and (I'm convinced) into bed with him. It was a huge stumbling block to me. I can't even tell you how big. It both aroused and outraged me. I rejected his advance, and it didn't end well. We later had opportunites to continue the relationship, and he basically proposed. Not officially, mind you. He talked about our honeymoon, and how I inspired him, and how he wanted me to be his wife. I can't tell you what that did to me. The girl who had been rejected by a church was desired by someone. I was so confused, and it really affected the ministry.
Have you ever seen The Sound of Music? That's one of my favorite movies. There is a scene where the oldest von Trapp daughter, Liesl, has a romantic rendezvous with her boyfriend Rolf. In their little song they sing (Sixteen going on Seventeen), Rolf tells her he'll take care of her, and kisses her in the end, but then runs away as soon as he does. Liesl is standing there delighted. Why is she delighted? No real plans or commitment have happened. He ran off as soon as he kissed her. But her hormones have been stirred. Her hopes have been awakened by this young man (who ends up leaving her for the Nazis!). That's how it was with this mission trip guy. Nothing concrete was ever done or planned, but it was very much like Rolf and Liesl's rendezvous, only over a longer time, and a little less G-rated. Oh, and we didn't sing or dance, either. And no Nazis, but you get the idea. Much like Rolf, this young man later let me go, and denied everything.
That was a lot of hurt and confusion. More rejection, which I felt I must have deserved. People who didn't get invited to Disneyland birthday parties, had their bodies made fun of at youth group, and got kicked out of churches must deserve it. It started having panic attacks more regularly.
The other hurtful aspect about my mission trip was that I had to room with a terrible young woman who was a few years older than me. She was cruel, manipulative, and caustic. If I liked something, she hated it. If I made a totally innocent or innocuous comment about ANYTHING, she would move heaven and earth to try to turn it into a fight and disprove what I had said. If I did something, she would criticize and correct me in front of everyone. She had a fit one day because she didn't like how I peeled potatoes. While I was teaching, she would move the bookmarks in my Bible so I would use the verses she wanted me to use instead of the ones I had planned. If I put down any sort of boundary with her (such as, please don't move the bookmarks in my Bible), she would scream bloody murder and cry, and since everyone was sick of her, they blamed me for setting her off, instead of blaming her for her own sin. I basically couldn't speak if she was around. I sometimes pretended I was askeep so she would leave me alone. She had the nationals we stayed with wrapped around her finger, so they thought I was the bad one.
One particular day while we were in Zambia, we were walking to our next Bible Club. Two men ran up to me out of nowhere and grabbed me. They put their hands inside my clothes. I was terrified! I was convinced they were trying to kidnap and/or rape me. I screamed and kicked them. This evil teammate just laughed and pointed as I tried to fight them off. Our national missionary came up and yelled something at them in Bemba (the local language), and they immediately let me go and ran away. I was crying, feeling like I might throw up. I couldn't stop shaking, but I was still made to go teach the Bible Club ten minutes later. My teammate kept saying, "They probably went for Janelle because she's the most scared!" If I could have become a murder right then, I'd be writing this post from prison! No one ever brought up what happened again. I was supposed to just get over it. When I was still trembling a few minutes later, I was told I was selfish and that not everything is about me.
My consolation during these times was God's Word, and my own writing. I felt I had a deeper connection to God, and my own thoughts, being so far away from all who knew and loved me. This was still the 20th century (barely), and there wasn't a lot of technology to contact home, especially in a third-world country. I was really on my own. There was this church right next door to where we were staying, and I would often take my notebook there and write. God led me to write stories reminiscent of the church I had loved, that had died (only in my fictional version, it lived). These were the beginning of what would become my Riverside County Chronicles, and eventually the spin-off series the San Bernardino County Chronicles--a total of 15 books beyween the two series. These characters became like friends to me, and I got to know them. I feel that was a gift from God. A reminder of what was real.
So, over the years, how did I heal from all of this stuff--and other hurtful things that came up (because they do in this life)? How do we reinforce our faith, rather than deconstruct it? I can tell you what I did.
1) I stayed in God's word. I searched for answers. There were days I would write out verses and the lyrics of songs that ministered to me. I listened to Christian music. I prayed as if my life depended on it. I carried a pocket New Testament with me at all times, and would read it whenever my feelings overwhelmed me. There were days I couldn't go more than thirty minutes without reading the Bible. I listened for the Holy Spirit to speak to my heart and spirit about what was happening. He would remind me of a higher truth than what I was experiencing from hurtful people. The truth of eternity, and what His word said, not what people said. My favorite song from that time was Last to be Chosen (by Ray Boltz--I know he has left the godly lifestyle, but this was before that--and his music was still used by God), I felt like a reject--an underdog, and yet I was called by God. I had to hang onto that. The lyrics of this song said: The last to be Chosen are the first He will call, and what He does through them will amaze one and all. Standing for Jesus, when others may fall. The last to be Chosen are the first He will call.
2) As I said in the last post, God is not the same entity as the people who represent Him. None of those who hurt me are God. They didn't have God's approval. God brought some better people into my life that ministered to my spirit. There have been many. That's an important lesson--surround yourself with people who help you, who speak God's truth to you. They should be those who love and comfort you with gentleness when you need it, and also speak hard truths when you need it (and have the wisdom to know when to do both). A weakness I have is that I hold on way too long to friendships that aren't healthy. I love people, and have a hard time moving on. Sometimes, there is a good reason to move on. I have stayed in hurtful friendships for periods of time, and only let the relationship go when it got extremely painful--when I could have avoided it and stepped away much sooner. It's a lesson I'm still learning. I think I'll always err on the side of loyalty, and that's a good thing in some cases, but I really need God's discernment to help me know when to move on.
3) I went to counseling. I remember telling my counselor about the young man--my "Rolf" from the mission trips--and when I told her about the time he really came on very strongly, I quickly told her, "But I'm sure he didn't mean it like that," because everyone had excused his sin and made me feel like I was the bad one for even thinking he had sex in mind. This counselor looked me in the eye and said, "Yes, he did." Hearing someone else speak the truth I knew in my heart was such a relief I cried--hard and long. It was the beginning of some of the healing for me. Also, prior to going to counseling, I really thought my problems had started in Zambia, but I realized most of it actually stemmed from losing the church I loved and being kicked out of the next one. To be honest, there are still days I struggle with both of these things. Neither of those things are supposed to happen to us. But neither are a lot of things that occur on this earth, and we can rejoice when Jesus comes back and sets everything right. I have to believe He will restore what was lost, and continue to restore my joy.
4) In addition to the Bible, I read godly books, and limited other media. My young adult years were when the Internet was becoming known. I chose for that season not to have it in my home (until I got married). I used it at the library, but really minimized it. I had a landline phone only (in my early 20's that was still the norm anyway). I chose not to have commercial TV (and this was before streaming). I read books that encouraged my heart and soul. One of my favorites was Heart Huner; Lettting God meet your Emotional Needs, by Cindi McMenamin. Fictionally, I love The Chrnoicles of Narnia, and wouldn't be exaggerating if I said I've read that series at least a dozen times. While driving in the car, I listened to Focus on the Family's radio theater books, and audio dramas, and those really encouraged me as well.
5) I went to Celebrate Recovery. This brought deeper healing post-counseling. It was the best thing I ever did, other than Salvation. I met my husband (in a round about way) as a result of my involvement at Celebrate Recovery. I made lifelong friends who wanted to be healthy and open about their struggles. It was truly unique, because in most Christian Bible study settings, people aren't as open and transparent with what they're going through. It made me feel less alone, knowing there were other people who were also hurting, and willing to talk about it. Some had similar hurts to mine. Others had hurts I hope I never experience. But we were all there to seek God's healing, and help each other. It's important to note (because I didn't know this prior to being invited to CR), but you don't have to be addicted to drugs or alcohol to go. It's open to anyone with hurts, habits, or hangups. We all have something that we can work on, and this program really works! I currently use the children's CR curriculum with our preschool-aged son as part of his daily quiet time.
6) I wrestled with things I was told. There is a lot of well-meant advice out there, but not all of it is the right advice. I had to wrestle with what I was told, and form my conclusions based on God's word. Even godly people sometimes disagreed with what I had concluded, and I had to hold firm to what God had led me to do. A lot of my friends at the time really got into the belief (false belief) that God doesn't speak to us today, and that we can do whatever we want, as long as it isn't defined in the Bible as sin, but the Holy Spirit doesn't guide us. I had to really wrestle with that. I wouldnt he here now if that were true. There is no joy in a life without God's presence and voice. It's true that anything we think we're being told has to line up with the Bible. However, within this guideline, God most certainly can and does speak to us. I remember one day, when I was still struggling with my "Rolf" and wondering if God would bring him back into my life (it goes to show how much I was struggling, because looking at it more objectively now, I can see how unhealthy it was and how it would have been terrible to have him back!). I really needed God to answer me, and I prayed that He would show me if I should hold out for "Rolf" or move on. I then studied the Bible lesson I was teaching the children at AWANA that week. It was the lesson about Samuel anointing David as king, taken from First Samuel 16. The very first verse jumped out at me. ...How long will you mourn for Saul, seeing as I have rejected him... I know that verse wasn't written about me or my situation, but under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, God used it to answer my question and prayer in my moment of need. How long would I mourn for "Rolf" seeing as God had rejected him from my life? I believe God does that for us. The author of the Bible lives in our hearts, and guides us into all truth. At that time in my life, I lived in the Los Angeles area, and a lot of Christians there follow John MacArthur, who espouses this doctrine that the Bible does not address us personally. He is a strong ceassationist, and believes spiritual gifts passed at the completion of the New Testament. While I am not a charismatic or Pentecostal, I think the ceasationist position goes beyond what scripture says about these gifts, and I am therefore a cautious continuationist (meaning I'd be open to all biblical gifts, if they are done in accordance with scripture). I am willing to agree to disagree with believers of all positions on this. My problem with ceasatinism (as John MacArthur presents it) is that it leaves no room for the Holy Spirit to work in our lives at all. He tells people how they're allowed to hear from God. This was what a lot of my friends were caught up with during that time, and I had to wrestle my way through it, with the Bible and Holy Spirit, to determine what I believed, and what I was called to do in my own life of healing from hurts (honestly, John MacArthur's teaching offered nothing to the broken and hurting people like myself).
7) I ran the race marked out for me. Come rain or shine, I got up every day, read my Bible, and did what I was called to do. I saw a lot of wonderful ministry happen. I went to Bible College. I did a lot of evangelism. I started a teen discipleship program that combined training them to evangelize, riding horses, reading The Chronicles of Narnia, and of course, studying the Bible. One student I discipled is now a fulltime missionary because of that time, and others are in good, productive Christian lives as well. I worked for the YMCA for a while, and made some of the best friends of my life there, and had professional success and encouragement. I have taught Sunday school and AWANA. I urge anyone to keep doing what God leads them to do. One of the best things I did was direct a play of A Charlie Brown Christmas. I know eternal differences have been made, and I didn't wast my time.
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| Linus and Charlie Brown in our Christmas play! |
Sometimes, things still hurt. I still have my triggers. For many years, certain 90s praise songs used to put me in a panic attack (because we sang them at the church I got kicked out of). I have mostly overcome that, but there are other things that hit my buttons. If I feel left out or disregarded, I really struggle. I have to keep working on these things with God's help, but I am still running my race. At the end, I want to be able to say with the Apostle Paul, I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith... (Second Timothy 4:7).
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