The Long Ugly Goodbye

It is with a heavy heart that I must (once again) walk away from the church I chose - I CHOSE - to attend.  It wasn't my decision to leave 14 years ago, and I wish I didn't have to go now. 

I've written A LOT about the circumstances surrounding us leaving the church the first time, and about how that event changed the spiritual landscape of my family forever.  I always believed that one day there would be - surely there had to be - restoration and reconciliation.   I returned after 11 years, believing the time had come.

I was wrong.

Lest you judge me, please know that I've done everything to reconcile according to scripture.  I went to my offender one on one, then I took someone with me, and then I went to the leadership to help with the restoration process, but all to no avail.

Some people have told me I still haven't forgiven.  Not only have I forgiven, but I go home nearly every Sunday and have to go through the phases and steps that result in forgiveness all over again because of new offenses.  It's exhausting, demoralizing, heartbreaking - and completely unnecessary.  I've given it three years this time around.

I'm a good person.  It's ironic that I have been, and continue to be, highly respected, loved, admired, and embraced in my "secular" life.  I have a great reputation as a teacher, an actor, and a director.  My gifts and talents are recognized, my strengths are celebrated, and my weaknesses are made less weak because of the strong support of my unchurched friends.  The people with whom I work know me as a woman of integrity and heart.

I, however, am NOT embraced by the church (note the little "c") that I attend.  I've never been forgiven for accused offenses - misunderstood words that resulted in false assumptions.  And why do I care?  Because those I attend church with are the very same people who will be my neighbors for eternity in Heaven.  It'd be good to be reconciled here on earth first!

I returned to the church three years ago, believing that time had healed.  Since I've been back, I've been shunned, walked away from, told I could NOT serve, ignored, refused, and even denied communion!  One woman told me my children "deserved" to be kicked out of church and that I should give up on them as they "made their decision a long time ago".  I told her she missed out on having front row seats to miracles and that I felt sorry for her.

Yes, there are wonderful and loving people, but I do NOT deserve to be mistreated by the few.  I deserve to be seen for who I really am.  Even if the accusations of years ago were true, I deserve grace.  I'm a child of God.

I sincerely believed that I was back in the right place at the right time for the right reasons when I learned you - the church - would be reaching out to a community I love and have worked with for many years.  I adore the people that are The Tower District - the men and women, the vibe....the truth.

I ask you, dear church, to see The Tower population as I do.  Please don't run in with your sword and shield with the intention of changing them.  I ask that you spend time getting to know them, and allowing them to teach YOU.  Let them show you unconditional love, acceptance, authenticity, and art.  So many of the people down there are not only unchurched, but many have been de-churched.  They've been wounded by those they once trusted. They're not going to respond to being told they're bad.  They'll respond to a new kind of love - one they've never known before.

John 13:35 reminds us that the unbelievers will know we are Christians by our love for one another.  We need to be so accepting, loving, and warm toward our own body that the world is drawn to us, not repelled by us.  We can't win them over until we accept, love, support, and show grace toward one another.

It wasn't The Church (with a big "C") who held me in their arms and let me cry when my drug-addicted child was missing.  It wasn't The Church who walked the streets of Fresno at 7:am on a Saturday morning putting up "missing child" posters.  It wasn't The Church who said, "I believe in you" or "I forgive you" - it was those people - the very same who need God.  They weren't afraid to get messy.  They loved my family right where we were.

So, it is with sadness that I walk away.  It's with a broken heart that I accept - finally - that I cannot be a member of your family.

I don't know what else I could've done.  I wasn't good enough to be shown grace and my family wasn't good enough to be part of your club.  I'll say it again - you missed out on being part of the miracle of restoration and you've missed the miracle that is my children.

What could I have changed?  I was always honest, authentic, faithful, and dedicated to keeping my word.   I'm a good mom, a loving wife, and a loyal-to-a-fault friend.  I would NEVER have said the things I was accused of saying and I'll never understand all that was at play against me.  I loved serving the body. This has been a long, ugly chapter in our family, and I still don't know why it all had to happen.

All I know is....I've always loved you.

A Light in the Darkness

I’ve really been struggling the past few days. I mean, really struggling. I am looking for my voice—my purpose.

I’ve shared my “mountain-top” experience with a few of you, and I’ll share it again now. For the skeptics out there, let me say—I understand! But, it happened to me.

It was ten or eleven years ago. I was at a women’s retreat at Hume Lake Christian Camps in the Sequoia National Forest. I was really struggling that weekend. Two people who I thought were dear friends had waged a slanderous campaign against me (see previous post) for reasons I could not understand. The minister who oversaw our team had relieved me of my ministry duties. I was so sad, lonely, and broken.

About a month before the retreat I had been asked to put together a drama presentation that was to be performed at one of the weekend meetings. Every time I’m asked to do something like this for a church event, I meet with major opposition. A friend told me, “Satan must be really afraid of you, because he sure puts a lot of stumbling blocks in your path.” As I prepared for the retreat, I felt so alone and the darkness was frightening and oppressive. I spent a week praying and reading and crying. I wrote a sketch called, “A Light in the Darkness”.

A few hours before I was to perform the sketch, I went for a long walk around the lake. I was praying and crying. I stopped and sat down on a rock and I said, “God, please talk to me. I’m scared.” I heard an audible voice. I HEARD the voice say, “Pray for D and K”. D and K were the couple who were back home saying cruel things about me. I did NOT want to pray for them. But I did, and I felt peace and love wash over me. I heard the voice say, “You’re dealing with jealous people.” I said, “Okay, but I want you to tell me about me. What do I need to do? What do I need to change?” The voice said, “Tell your story.” “Okay. Which part?”

I felt like I’d lived through a lot in a relatively short life. I was raised in a broken home, and then I’d survived an abusive marriage to a cocaine addict, an unplanned pregnancy, and single mother-hood. After marrying Tom, we experienced job loss, a failed business, and bankruptcy. And now, finally, life seemed to be settling down a bit. But these judgmental attacks started coming from the most unexpected of places—my friends and ministry partners.

So, after asking which part of my story should be told I heard the voice say, “Your story is just beginning.” I was pissed! Just beginning? The voice said, “Your story is for the church.”

In the years since that day by the side of the lake, I’ve come to understand. I’ve been hurt, attacked, gossiped about, and shattered by the behavior of Christians. The church has let my family down again and again and again, but I’ve kept my eyes on God. I have NOT always been faithful to what I believed. The pain has led me down dark paths. My children have rebelled because of the in-your-face hypocrisy of the spiritual leaders and the personal criticisms of so-called friends. I have never, however, stopped believing.

I have a family member who has accused me of “blaming” others for my woes. Listen…let’s imagine I lost a leg in a car accident. If people asked me how I lost my leg I would say, “in a car accident”. Would their response be, “Oh Liz, stop blaming the car accident for your loss”? Um…no! It’s not about blame. None of us are islands unto ourselves. Our actions affect those closest to us, and their actions affect us. That’s just the truth.

My whole life I have taken personal responsibility for everything I’ve ever done. Further, I’ve accepted that the ills of others are also my fault! Global warming? My fault. Financial meltdown? My fault. Ozone depletion? You guess it—I’m to blame for that too!

I remember once when I was trying to rectify a broken relationship with a Christian friend. The woman sitting across the table from me was pointing her finger at me. She was telling me how weak I was and called into question the condition of my heart. I said, “If you were so sure that I was such a bad person, why didn’t you say something to me? Don’t friends do that for one another?” She said, “Let’s get something straight, you were never that good a friend.” I said, “I’m more…I’m your sister in Christ.” She said, “I won’t yield to your victim mentality.”

So, I’ve kept my mouth shut for many years about many things because I didn’t want people to think I was “blaming” anyone, or that I was playing the “victim” card. But I’ve been remiss. That day on the mountain sitting on the water’s edge of Hume Lake, God told me to tell my story. He told me the story was for the church. A few weeks ago I heard God’s voice say, “Don’t let them hush you”. Within minutes that message was confirmed!

I know this blog entry is long, but I can’t sit silently anymore. We are not islands! We are pebbles whose actions create ripples that touch everyone around us. Your ripples have changed my life, and mine have changed yours.

My story is about pain and recovery, sadness and joy, brokenness and miraculous healings. Above all, my story is about hope! After the hurricane, restoration comes. It may take years, but it does come.

The church isn’t perfect because it’s full of imperfect people. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. God just wants us to bring our weaknesses and failures to him so He can restore us and reconcile His kids. Let’s shine a light on the darkness and talk truth. Let’s be a light in the darkness.