My Testimony (part 4)
I'll never forget the morning a young man got up to teach Sunday
School, and taught on 1 Timothy 2. He was a gifted teacher, but had not
enough life experience to give him the wisdom he needed. His
interpretation of the end of that chapter was that women should not
speak in church. Therefore, he stated strongly that while he was
teaching, no woman should join in the discussion. (It was the only
adult class: the men wanted their wives by their sides.)
Now, up until that point, women were equal participants in these open discussions. You can imagine how this sent shock waves through our comfortable little way of doing church. Women keep silent? Of course, the men said - wasn't that the clear Word of God?
After several months of serious discussions among the male membership, and after the ministers met several times privately to discuss it, the law was handed down: women were to stop taking part in open spiritual discussions, during "church." If any woman wished to discuss a spiritual subject, she could talk with other women, or she should ask her husband her questions, at home.
Suddenly, I had no spiritual outlet. The other women were content discussing things only with their own husbands at home. So they didn't really discuss things with me.
The ministry came up with a plan for my spiritual questions: Since I was a divorcee, it wasn't proper to personally ask a minister any questions. So I was to ask the pastor's wife, who would relay my question to her husband. His answer to my question would come back through her, thus "avoiding all appearance of evil." Oh yes, it sounds very Biblical and right. Until I tried it once. The process took 4 weeks, and he never really understood what I had asked. I never tried again. It was just so depersonalizing and wooden. Made me feel unwanted. I really didn't matter. I had nothing to contribute, except my pittance tithes and silent appearance.
I found it very hard to keep silent in church. I had studied the Bible for decades, and now there was no place to discuss it with anyone. The Bible is so full of meaning! I sat there, Sunday after Sunday, listening to the men, expressing their ideas. I could listen, but was forbidden to speak.
And many times, the men were going off on tangets, not getting the full scope of what the Bible said on many subjects. I sat and thought... and bit my tongue. Except for a few times... when I'd dare to simply say a Bible reference. And sometimes, I spoke up, with a sentence or two. It was usually appreciated in the moment. But afterwards, I'd be rebuked by someone. Often by a young woman who felt I was out of line. I'd hear teen girls laughing in the bathroom about how I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
I began to shut down, to try to keep silent. Over a period of a few months, I found myself sitting farther and farther back in church, until I sat in the far back corner. I didn't allow myself to follow what was being taught or preached. It was just too dangerous. If I let myself think, I might speak up. And that would end badly.
I was in that position for about half a year. Silent. Outwardly at peace. But in the back corner. Trying to shut down.
I didn't realize it, but my spiritual breath was being cut off.
I could inhale, but was not allowed to exhale.
I had no outlet. I was dying spiritually.
One night, the Lord came to me in a dream:
I dreamed I was in a line of people, before the Lord. One by one, He put us on either His right, or on His left.
I eyed the right side. That's where I would go, I was pretty sure. After all, I had been a Christian most of my life. And God had done such incredible miracles for me! Surely I was going to that side.
And then, it was my turn. Sure enough, He placed me on the side I had been eyeing.
But then I turned around... And I SAW!!!
What had been MY right, was actually HIS LEFT!
And I began to cry out to Him: "Lord! There's been a mistake! You know me! I've loved you most of my life! Don't you remember? You carried me through the worst time of my life! Don't You remember?"
But He turned as if He never even heard me.
Turned to those on the other side, and began to lead them out and away.
I began to wail the cries of the eternally damned. Such overwhelming terror!
I woke, trying to scream.
"Oh God!" I gasped, "PLEASE show me how I can know I have eternal life!"
My arm flailed over to my nightstand, where my dusty Bible, long untouched, lay.
I grabbed for it like a drowning man for a rope.
And I flipped it open. It fell to this passage:
Luke 10:25 "... Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"
26 He said unto him, "What is written in the law? how readest thou?"
27 And he answering said, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself."
28 And he said unto him, "Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live."
....................
It took a bit of time, but I got the message.
I had chosen another god.
This had happened before, with my husband.
To try to keep his love, I had sacrificed my conscience and my walk with God.
He had demanded I stop reading the Bible in the evenings. I gave in.
He demanded I dress the way he wanted me to... I gave in, though I felt condemned.
He had demanded I stop attending church. I gave in. After all, he was my spiritual head, wasn't he?
When he threatened to leave over matters of my conscience, I gave in. Desperate to keep his 'love.'
It happened so slowly, over a period of years, in small increments. I didn't recognize it, when he had no respect for God being my God. Over the years, I became so confused about right and wrong, that eventually I had little conscience left. I just did what he told me to do. I had unknowingly allowed him to take the place of God to me.
And now, I had done it again. Desperate to keep the love and acceptance of my family, I had allowed them to take the place of God to me. I was allowing my Mennonite church to dictate to me all matters of conscience. Backed into a corner, I was dying spiritually, because I valued the love and approval of humans more than of God.
It took a few months.
I began to pray for God to lead me. I knew I personally had to leave that church, to get to heaven.
God had spoken. But I didn't know where to go!
Over those years, I had cared for many elderly people in the community. One very godly Pentecostal lady, I cared for over 3 years. She and her family had often spoken highly of a church about 10 minutes away, the Indian Valley Church of God.
The Mennonite church had no meetings Sunday Evening. So that left it open for me to go "Church shopping." I searched all around... and evidently 'no church on Sunday evenings' is very contagious.
I found only one that still held evening services: Indian Valley Church of God.
I began to attend Sunday evenings... then Tuesday evenings. Then I found out about Thursday night prayer meetings. I was working third shift, so I had to leave early to get to work. But what I felt in those meetings changed my life!
I found in that little secluded country church, the tangible Presence of God. It felt like the kiss of heaven itself. I remember not wanting to leave that glorious, holy place. When I drove away, it was back to normalcy. But when I drove into that parking lot, I felt Him.
After a couple of months testing the spirits, I decided it was time to do it.
A simple letter to the Mennonite pastor, and one last Sunday morning in the Mennonite church.
No one else knew I was leaving.
I remember how I wept inside, looking at all those dear, familiar faces. How I loved them!
I knew how it would be. I would basically lose my family, so dear to my heart.
All the family news and social life happened at church. New babies. Sicknesses. New couples dating. I would miss out on it all. How my heart broke, that morning!
I had to leave quickly, to keep from crying openly. I didn't want to make a scene.
And it has happened as I expected. I hardly know my great-nieces and great-nephews. So many of them, and they're growing up, and I hardly ever see them. New babies, and I didn't even hear they were expecting. I've lost my family, for the most part.
But I have found the Lord again!
And to me, it's worth it all.
I'll see my family in heaven. They'll understand over there.
But down here, I must walk a very lonely path.
God has designed it so, for me. I don't know why.
But I'm content. Heaven's not so far off.
And to walk with Him is worth it all!
Now, I feel that Presence all the time. It's like a sweet weight of glory, constantly flowing over me.
I hear Him talking all the time, in my spirit. And I remember, I used to never hear Him.
I'm never alone. He's always very tangibly closer than my very breath.
Every day is joy unspeakable and full of glory.
He's worth it. Every bit of it all.
Now, up until that point, women were equal participants in these open discussions. You can imagine how this sent shock waves through our comfortable little way of doing church. Women keep silent? Of course, the men said - wasn't that the clear Word of God?
After several months of serious discussions among the male membership, and after the ministers met several times privately to discuss it, the law was handed down: women were to stop taking part in open spiritual discussions, during "church." If any woman wished to discuss a spiritual subject, she could talk with other women, or she should ask her husband her questions, at home.
Suddenly, I had no spiritual outlet. The other women were content discussing things only with their own husbands at home. So they didn't really discuss things with me.
The ministry came up with a plan for my spiritual questions: Since I was a divorcee, it wasn't proper to personally ask a minister any questions. So I was to ask the pastor's wife, who would relay my question to her husband. His answer to my question would come back through her, thus "avoiding all appearance of evil." Oh yes, it sounds very Biblical and right. Until I tried it once. The process took 4 weeks, and he never really understood what I had asked. I never tried again. It was just so depersonalizing and wooden. Made me feel unwanted. I really didn't matter. I had nothing to contribute, except my pittance tithes and silent appearance.
I found it very hard to keep silent in church. I had studied the Bible for decades, and now there was no place to discuss it with anyone. The Bible is so full of meaning! I sat there, Sunday after Sunday, listening to the men, expressing their ideas. I could listen, but was forbidden to speak.
And many times, the men were going off on tangets, not getting the full scope of what the Bible said on many subjects. I sat and thought... and bit my tongue. Except for a few times... when I'd dare to simply say a Bible reference. And sometimes, I spoke up, with a sentence or two. It was usually appreciated in the moment. But afterwards, I'd be rebuked by someone. Often by a young woman who felt I was out of line. I'd hear teen girls laughing in the bathroom about how I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
I began to shut down, to try to keep silent. Over a period of a few months, I found myself sitting farther and farther back in church, until I sat in the far back corner. I didn't allow myself to follow what was being taught or preached. It was just too dangerous. If I let myself think, I might speak up. And that would end badly.
I was in that position for about half a year. Silent. Outwardly at peace. But in the back corner. Trying to shut down.
I didn't realize it, but my spiritual breath was being cut off.
I could inhale, but was not allowed to exhale.
I had no outlet. I was dying spiritually.
One night, the Lord came to me in a dream:
I dreamed I was in a line of people, before the Lord. One by one, He put us on either His right, or on His left.
I eyed the right side. That's where I would go, I was pretty sure. After all, I had been a Christian most of my life. And God had done such incredible miracles for me! Surely I was going to that side.
And then, it was my turn. Sure enough, He placed me on the side I had been eyeing.
But then I turned around... And I SAW!!!
What had been MY right, was actually HIS LEFT!
And I began to cry out to Him: "Lord! There's been a mistake! You know me! I've loved you most of my life! Don't you remember? You carried me through the worst time of my life! Don't You remember?"
But He turned as if He never even heard me.
Turned to those on the other side, and began to lead them out and away.
I began to wail the cries of the eternally damned. Such overwhelming terror!
I woke, trying to scream.
"Oh God!" I gasped, "PLEASE show me how I can know I have eternal life!"
My arm flailed over to my nightstand, where my dusty Bible, long untouched, lay.
I grabbed for it like a drowning man for a rope.
And I flipped it open. It fell to this passage:
Luke 10:25 "... Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"
26 He said unto him, "What is written in the law? how readest thou?"
27 And he answering said, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself."
28 And he said unto him, "Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live."
....................
It took a bit of time, but I got the message.
I had chosen another god.
This had happened before, with my husband.
To try to keep his love, I had sacrificed my conscience and my walk with God.
He had demanded I stop reading the Bible in the evenings. I gave in.
He demanded I dress the way he wanted me to... I gave in, though I felt condemned.
He had demanded I stop attending church. I gave in. After all, he was my spiritual head, wasn't he?
When he threatened to leave over matters of my conscience, I gave in. Desperate to keep his 'love.'
It happened so slowly, over a period of years, in small increments. I didn't recognize it, when he had no respect for God being my God. Over the years, I became so confused about right and wrong, that eventually I had little conscience left. I just did what he told me to do. I had unknowingly allowed him to take the place of God to me.
And now, I had done it again. Desperate to keep the love and acceptance of my family, I had allowed them to take the place of God to me. I was allowing my Mennonite church to dictate to me all matters of conscience. Backed into a corner, I was dying spiritually, because I valued the love and approval of humans more than of God.
It took a few months.
I began to pray for God to lead me. I knew I personally had to leave that church, to get to heaven.
God had spoken. But I didn't know where to go!
Over those years, I had cared for many elderly people in the community. One very godly Pentecostal lady, I cared for over 3 years. She and her family had often spoken highly of a church about 10 minutes away, the Indian Valley Church of God.
The Mennonite church had no meetings Sunday Evening. So that left it open for me to go "Church shopping." I searched all around... and evidently 'no church on Sunday evenings' is very contagious.
I found only one that still held evening services: Indian Valley Church of God.
I began to attend Sunday evenings... then Tuesday evenings. Then I found out about Thursday night prayer meetings. I was working third shift, so I had to leave early to get to work. But what I felt in those meetings changed my life!
I found in that little secluded country church, the tangible Presence of God. It felt like the kiss of heaven itself. I remember not wanting to leave that glorious, holy place. When I drove away, it was back to normalcy. But when I drove into that parking lot, I felt Him.
After a couple of months testing the spirits, I decided it was time to do it.
A simple letter to the Mennonite pastor, and one last Sunday morning in the Mennonite church.
No one else knew I was leaving.
I remember how I wept inside, looking at all those dear, familiar faces. How I loved them!
I knew how it would be. I would basically lose my family, so dear to my heart.
All the family news and social life happened at church. New babies. Sicknesses. New couples dating. I would miss out on it all. How my heart broke, that morning!
I had to leave quickly, to keep from crying openly. I didn't want to make a scene.
And it has happened as I expected. I hardly know my great-nieces and great-nephews. So many of them, and they're growing up, and I hardly ever see them. New babies, and I didn't even hear they were expecting. I've lost my family, for the most part.
But I have found the Lord again!
And to me, it's worth it all.
I'll see my family in heaven. They'll understand over there.
But down here, I must walk a very lonely path.
God has designed it so, for me. I don't know why.
But I'm content. Heaven's not so far off.
And to walk with Him is worth it all!
Now, I feel that Presence all the time. It's like a sweet weight of glory, constantly flowing over me.
I hear Him talking all the time, in my spirit. And I remember, I used to never hear Him.
I'm never alone. He's always very tangibly closer than my very breath.
Every day is joy unspeakable and full of glory.
He's worth it. Every bit of it all.
Comments
Post a Comment