Hello! Welcome to the Quivering Daughters website. Please note that this site is no longer being updated with new material but I hope you find the archives helpful. God bless you.
Showing posts with label spiritual abuse recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual abuse recovery. Show all posts

Who is Your God?

by Hillary McFarland

“I'm okay with Jesus.
It's God I'm not too sure about.”

For many daughters of patriarchy, God is an imposing figure. Why wouldn't He be? His name is the one attached to doctrines of men. He is the why behind many destructive religious lifestyle choices. From the earliest crusades unto today's authoritarian Christian family, some form of God's name, character, or command is mis-used and misapplied with devastating results.
     In the hands of a sinner, God is a dangerous weapon.
  
My will be done?
     Of course, we are all sinners with the capacity to use God's name in vain to serve ourselves. For the one, however, who grew up literally threatened with God, experiencing Him as a tool of manipulation and control, of behavior modification, force, and cruelty, God is a destructive force who breaks hearts, crushes life from the spirit, and leaves us without hope.
     The adage is true: actions speak louder than words.
     Despite lifelong biblical messages of God's love and salvation and grace, the imprint left on hearts by God-in-the-everyday becomes what is true. It becomes what is lived, believed, and known. It shapes our theology and our faith.
     The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. (John 10:10a)
     God becomes the enemy.

For the Love of a Shepherd

I have loved you with an everlasting love
     therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.  
(Jeremiah 31:3b) 

Those recovering from spiritual abuse, authoritarianism and emotional manipulation often say they also need a break from God.
     Often, they do. 
    At least from the god they've known. But in a wild, heady, divine redemption, this rejection of an authoritarian god often becomes a heady step of faith ~ a move towards the One True.

With lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Behind Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month: Guest Post by Lisa Bertolini


Your God reveals Himself to you, 
not just information about Himself. 
~ Steve McVey, Grace Walk Ministries


Hillary's note: I've invited Lisa Bertolini, founder of Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month, to share the personal background which inspired it and why bringing awareness to this tragic reality is important to her.

by Lisa Bertolini

It's been nearly two years since I exited fundamentalism with deep gaping wounds in my soul. I knew that God exists, and I love Jesus, so I knew I would continue to walk with our Lord but I couldn't face gathering with others in churches just yet. Fifteen years of mind control had done it's damage to my mind and heart and I needed to be unraveled from it all. My husband, myself, our children, and a few others who exited the same week we did began meeting several nights a week to sort through our emotional and spiritual distress. We covered our dining room table with Bibles, concordances, Bible dictionaries, and the Hebrew/Greek Interlinear Bible. We needed to know what we believed and why we believed it. We no longer sought to know what the institutional church believed and why they wanted us to believe it. We needed to know who God is to us personally. We had been told before that we needed our own walk with Jesus, not our parents walk and in this case not our former church's walk. We needed our own unique walkabout with Him.

We each went through days of various emotions, from anger of being spiritually abused and lied to, confusion, and long days of crying. Breaking away from a church was like going through a divorce. It was incredibly painful. Some days were better than others. Some days I felt like part of me was dying. Some church members, who we had once called 'family' would ignore us as we passed by them in the stores, and others would send hate mail and leave awful comments on my Facebook page. I was going through such a difficult time and I couldn't go back to the same church family with my pain. I had tried talking to some in leadership, but they chose to side with higher leadership and ignore my pleas for help. They sided with the leadership that was causing me so much pain. We tried the Matthew 18 approach to no avail. It could never reach the church level of accountability, the leadership would not allow it to get that far. So I felt outed. I had to put up with it or walk away. For my own sanity, I needed to walk away. My husband and children were all hurt as well. In varying ways by different people in leadership. The abuse trickled down through the hierarchy and into the people. Now that we were out...now what?

Spiritual Abuse and Christmas Trees

I think I finally figured out what Christmas trees are really about.

A while ago I found a blog article on the subject of our friend Mr. Tannenbaum. Apparently (the author observed) some folks believe that Christmas trees are pagan symbols that the church has adopted in sinful syncretism. They appeal to Scriptures such as Jeremiah 10 to support the idea: the passage describes trees being chopped down, decorated with precious metals, and worshiped by pagans (“A-ha!” chorus the neo-Scrooges).

Knowing a bit about interpreting Scripture in context, I smelled an opportunity to cry “Humbug!” True, Jeremiah describes pagans chopping down trees for idolatrous worship. But it also mentions the trees being “shaped by chisels” into images of false gods like these. Those don’t look much like Christmas trees to me. Anyone for some eisegesis?

The underlying logic is even more significant. Follow it through: Idolaters once used decorative trees to worship false gods. Therefore, anyone else who uses a tree for decoration ever again must only be pagan.

Bah. Humbug.

How Does Jesus Love You? | Guest Post

How Does Jesus Love You? (Let me count the ways.)

by Eric M. Pazdziora 

The story goes that somebody once asked a great theologian—nobody’s quite sure which theologian, but so the story goes—what was the most profound doctrinal statement he had ever heard. The theologian thought for a moment and replied:
“Jesus loves me; this I know
For the Bible tells me so.”
We smile at the irony of a distinguished scholar singing a ditty for children. But I think he knew his stuff. Unless you become like a little child, after all, you won’t get into the kingdom of God. Out of the mouths of infants and babes, God has perfected praise. In those three little words we all sang as children is everything we really need to know: “Jesus loves me.”

Is the statement too simple? It might seem that way, especially if (like me) you learned those words just as soon as you were old enough to sing them. Like most simple truths, it’s easy to overlook it, to neglect it, to assume we know it and move along. But some things shouldn’t be overlooked—at least, not according to the Bible that tells us so. “This is My commandment,” said Jesus, “that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). “The life which I now live in the flesh,” wrote Paul, “I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). It’s even in the Bible’s most-quoted passage on marriage: “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her” (Ephesians 2:25).

Jesus’ love for us is not just a simple truth for children, though it is that. It’s not just a comforting thought for when we’re feeling lonely, though it is that. It’s not even just a doctrinal proposition, though you can make it that if you like. If these verses are anything to go by, it’s nothing less than the foundation of everything to do with the Christian faith and the Christian life.

This leads to an obvious question, a question so obvious that I’m not surprised so few people think to ask it. How, exactly, does Christ love the church? What does the Bible mean when it says Jesus loves me?

It may be an obvious question to ask, but it’s not a trivial one to answer. The answer you give to it will do more to shape your life than anything else will. Or perhaps it’s that the shape of your life reveals the answer you’ve given to this question.

Maybe that’s part of the reason Jesus was so furiously opposed to spiritual abuse. When a Christian husband is domineering, harsh, or controlling toward his wife, it sends the message that that’s how Jesus treats the people He loves. When a pastor is legalistic, arrogant, browbeating, or manipulative toward his congregation, it sends the message that that’s how Jesus treats the people He leads. When a church leader withholds his approval until you’ve met his arbitrary standard, it sends the message that that’s how Jesus dispenses His love.

Is Jesus manipulative? Can Jesus’ love be earned? Does Jesus micromanage? Does Jesus demand perfection? Does Jesus use “love” as a tool to compel our servitude? Does Jesus withhold His love from those who aren’t good enough? Does Jesus force submission? Is Jesus harsh and authoritarian? Does Jesus reject those who don’t love Him enough?

I admit that if we looked for the answer to those questions in the way we’ve been treated by some people who called themselves Jesus’ followers, we might come up with an unflattering picture. (Trying to calculate from Christians in my own experience, I’d estimate two negative for every positive, evening out more lately.)

But that’s where the second line of the song comes in. It doesn’t say “Jesus loves me; this I know / for my pastor treats me so.” Or my parents, or my friends, or my employers, or anybody else. To see what Jesus’ love is like, we have to start with Jesus Himself, and the most reliable representation we have of Jesus is in the Bible. Once we know what Jesus’ love is really like, then (and only then) we can determine whether something else shows Jesus’ love correctly.

The minor difficulty here is that trying to find the parts of the Bible that talk about God’s love is a bit like trying to find the parts of Moby Dick that talk about whales. What parts don’t? And I can’t just go slapping all 1,189 chapters into one article or we’ll be here all month. It might be worth mentioning, though, that Jesus Himself advocated reading the whole Bible in just that way—looking for the truth about Him in every part. “And beginning at Moses and all the Prophets, He expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself” (Luke 24:27). You could do a lot worse than, whenever you read a passage of Scripture, asking yourself, “How can I see the love of Jesus here?”

There are some verses, though, where it’s especially easy to see.

Jesus’ love is real and knowable.
He who has My commandments and keeps them, it is he who loves Me. And he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and manifest Myself to him. (John 14:21)
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)
To people with a skeptical nature, this whole notion of the love of Jesus can seem to border on absurdity. I get that. It’s easy enough to appreciate where the skeptics and atheists are coming from on this one. There’s a person you can’t see, yet you’re certain He loves you? Isn’t that just having an imaginary friend?

I respect an honest skeptic. So does Jesus. He doesn’t propose what would surely turn off any doubting inquirer, a glib assertion that “you’ve just gotta have faith.” Instead, He asks us to observe a particular commandment: “This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.” (John 15:12. This also explains the verse that trips up some readers: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” The commandment in question is not to practice legalism but to love others.)

If you try this, Jesus says, “I will manifest myself to [you].” In other words, if you want to see whether Jesus’ love is real, find out how His love is described and try loving other people that way. Then you’ll know—although, as Paul says in Ephesians, you will “know this love that surpasses knowledge.” There’s a lot more to it than knowing: it’s like the difference between knowing someone’s name and having them as a friend. Or, if you like, the difference between having an imaginary friend and having a real friend.

Jesus’ love is like the Father’s.
As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love. (John 15:9)
Some people give the impression that God the Father was itching to smite us with His wrath until Jesus stepped in and showed us some love instead. Those people are wrong. Jesus said He does nothing but what He sees the Father do (John 5:19). So anything that’s true of the love of Jesus for us is true of the love of His Father for us.

However, this declaration moves it to another dimension: Jesus said His love for His disciples—and therefore, the Father’s love for His disciples—was just like the Father’s love for Him. The Father’s love for His Son is eternal and unchangeable, a greater constant than the universe itself. It’s a part of His essential nature: “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Jesus loves you exactly the same way.

Jesus’ love takes the form of a sacrifice.
This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. (John 15:12-13)

And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma. (Ephesians 5:2)

By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. (1 John 3:16)
Loving someone means wanting what’s best for them. Truly loving someone means giving up something voluntarily so they can get what’s best for them. It can’t be forced or manipulated by anyone else—real love makes sacrifice come naturally. The more someone truly loves, the more they freely sacrifice.

R. A. Torrey put it directly: “The love of Jesus Christ manifested itself in His giving Himself, laying down His life for us. His was a self-sacrificing love. The death of Christ was not the only sacrifice He made, but the crowning one. His whole life was a sacrifice, from the manger to the cross. His becoming man at all was a sacrifice of immeasurable greatness and meaning. (See Philippians 2:6-7.)” (What the Bible Teaches, ch. 4).

This shows that Jesus’ love won’t demand, compel, or manipulate. Jesus never says, “Well, now that I’ve given so much, it’s time for you to do something for me.” He follows His own commandment to “give, expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:35).

He just gives. He gives everything.

He gives Himself.

Jesus loves people when they don’t deserve it.
Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:7-8)
The greatest kind of love we can imagine (as Jesus said) is someone giving up their life for someone they love. We could probably picture ourselves trading our lives for somebody we love who loves us back—our child, our spouse, our best friend. But how about taking a bullet to save an enemy? Drowning to rescue somebody who hates you? Consider your mind staggered.

Sin, by definition, is an action that goes against God’s nature. Lies are sinful because God is the truth; adultery is sinful because God is faithful; resentment is sinful because God is forgiving, and so on. God hates sin because it puts us at odds with Him: our choice to sin makes us God’s enemies (compare Colossians 1:21, James 4:4). But God didn’t wait for us to turn our lives around, to become “good enough” to earn His love and approval.

Jesus died for us while we were His enemies.

If you have ever thought that you had to be good enough for Jesus to love you, or that Jesus would stop loving you if you did something bad, or that the better you were the more Jesus would love you, now would be an appropriate time for you to crumple that thought up and toss it in a wastebasket to hell.

Jesus’ love makes people pure and beautiful.
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her, that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word, that He might present her to Himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish. (Ephesians 5:25-27)
Why did Jesus sacrifice Himself for us? We all know the Sunday School answer: “To take away our sins.” However, that doesn’t fully answer the question of “why”—it tells the result but not the motive.

What was His motive? He wants to make us pure and beautiful, like a bride in white. He wants to make us glorious, flawless, and spotless. He wants to show that He considers us beautiful and unique and special. He wants to take away anything that might make someone think otherwise. He wants us to be whole, and complete, and cleansed, and made new and lovely. He wants to celebrate us, delight in us, rejoice over us.

And that’s exactly what His sacrificial love for us accomplished.

By the way, that verse is written to tell Christian husbands how to treat their wives. So if you ever wanted to see one verse that singlehandedly demolishes the false teaching of Patriarchy—well, there you go. To Jesus, to love and lead means to serve and sacrifice.

Jesus’ love nourishes and cherishes.
For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as the Lord does the church. (Ephesians 5:29)
This verse continues the previous thought, part of the same admonition to husbands. A godly husband applies the Golden Rule to his wife—he loves her as he loves himself. He nourishes her—he makes sure she has everything she needs to be healthy and grow. He cherishes her—he lets her know how special he thinks she is. He shows her every day that he’s thankful for the blessing of having her in his life. He encourages her and builds her up. He makes room for her to be vibrant and to flourish.

He got that idea from the way Jesus treats the church.

Jesus’ love lifts the lowly.
He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes,
with the princes of their people. (Psalm 113:7-8)

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)
God’s love for us is not from the top down but from the bottom up. Jesus didn’t wait for us to get our acts together; He got His hands dirty. The story of the Incarnation is the story of a king who laid aside His crown for the love of a beggar. Then, a beggar Himself, He gave the beggar He loved His crown and all His kingdom.

Jesus loves the neglected, the poor, the lowly, the outcasts, the overlooked, the untouchable. Jesus loves the disenfranchised, the misfits, the minorities, the friendless, the victims. He loves them so much that He came to earth and became one of them Himself.

Jesus was not ashamed of your lowliness; He made it His own. Jesus does not wait for you or anyone else to lift yourself up; He lifts you up. Jesus’ love doesn’t put us down in our places. It lifts us up to His place.

Jesus’ love is friendship.
No longer do I call you servants, for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I heard from My Father I have made known to you. (John 15:15)
Jesus doesn’t just love you in a vacuous general sense, like a recorded message that says, “Your call is very important to us.” Jesus doesn’t just love you because He’s somehow obligated to. Jesus doesn’t just love you because He loves everybody as a collective group. Jesus loves you as an individual. More than that—Jesus likes you.

Jesus isn’t interested in having mindless servants who blindly obey. Jesus wants friends who will hang out with Him. Jesus wants friends He can talk with (His favorite topic, again, is His Father). Jesus thinks you’re the kind of person He’d like to get together with over coffee. Or, if you’re in England, tea.

Jesus’ love is constructive.
“As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent.” (Revelation 3:19).
This verse may rub us the wrong way if we’ve been abused by authoritarian leaders. In reality, it shows us how Jesus finds a middle path between two extreme misunderstandings of discipline. A parent who destructively abuses and controls their child does not love that child as Jesus does, but neither does a parent who carelessly lets their child do whatever they please. Jesus instead gives us constructive training and guidance to help us develop into free and healthy individuals. As Paul put it, “The kindness of God leads you to repentance” (Romans 2:4, emphasis mine).

The fact that Jesus loves us does not guarantee that our life will be all flowers and sunshine and rainbows—often, quite the opposite. Jesus allows suffering and hardship in our lives to teach us and (sometimes) to correct us. It’s not that suffering always means we’ve done something wrong—though our actions do have consequences—but that it often gives us an opportunity to see our faults with a bit more clarity. (For instance, having to wait in a long line at the bank reveals to me that I’m woefully impatient.) That in turn gives us an opportunity to change and to become more enthusiastic about our walk with God.

Jesus’ discipline and training is not about controlling us but about helping us to grow. When Jesus points out our faults, weaknesses, or sins, it’s never to make us feel guilty or inferior but to get us to turn away from them and turn instead to His grace and the transforming love and power of His Spirit.

Jesus’ love is compassionate.
A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice… (Isaiah 42:3)
If you’re bruised, or wounded, or hurting, it may seem like people want to cast you aside, throw you away, or (worst) make you think it was all your fault. What good is a bruised reed except to break and throw away? What good is a smoldering candle except to blow out? What good is a broken person except as a cautionary tale to avoid?

Not to Jesus. Jesus isn’t in the business of discarding things other people have broken. Jesus is in the business of finishing the good work He started. Jesus treats the bruised and broken things of the world with the tenderness they need to recover and return to life.

Jesus is all about resurrections.

Jesus’ love identifies with our suffering.
For even Christ did not please Himself; but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached You fell on Me.” (Romans 15:3)

In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old. (Isaiah 63:9)
When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were thrown into a fiery furnace for their convictions, the king who put them there was astonished to see a fourth man in the flames with them—one who looked like “the son of a god” (Daniel 3:25). Jesus does something infinitely better than keeping us from ever going through suffering and hardship. He experiences our suffering and hardship right along with us. He’s not just with us in our suffering, or even just “carrying us” like in the old “Footprints” poem, but actually experiencing our suffering as much as we are.

In His life on earth, Jesus experienced what it was to be hurt, abandoned, beaten up, misunderstood, mocked, laughed at, scorned, slapped, betrayed, tempted, and even seemingly forsaken by God. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Jesus’ suffering absolved not only our sins but also our griefs and our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4). When someone insults you, hurts you, or abuses you, Jesus feels it too. He’s been there before, and He’s there with you now.

Jesus’ love is unilateral.
“We love him, because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)
Once in a while, it helps your interpretation if you look very closely at what the Bible doesn’t say. For instance, this verse doesn’t say, “We have to strive to love Him if we want Him to love us back.” It doesn’t say, “He loves us when we love Him and do our best to be well-behaved and attractive.” It definitely doesn’t say, “He won’t love us until we’re good enough.” You get the idea.

Lots of people like to use the phrase “unconditional love,” which is accurate as far as it goes—Jesus’ love comes with no strings attached. But the Bible goes even further than that phrase does. A friend of mine, a theologically minded woman, once suggested the phrase “unilateral love”: as far as Jesus is concerned, His love for us is entirely His idea and exclusively His initiative. I like the phrase.

Jesus’ love for us is the cause, and our love for Him is the effect. If you want to love Jesus more, don’t waste your time trying to strive or to do good things or to work up your passion and emotions. Just think about Jesus’ love for you, and how much He had to do with it, and how little (nothing) you had to do with it.

A little girl in London once asked her Sunday School teacher—his name was Mark Guy Pearse—how she could learn to love Jesus, since she didn’t. Pearse thought for a moment and replied, “Little girl, as you go away from here today, keep saying to yourself, ‘Jesus loves me,’ ‘Jesus loves me,’ and I believe you will come back next Sunday saying, ‘I love Jesus.’”

It worked.

Jesus’ love is invincible.
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39)
(To be followed by the “Sevenfold Amen.”)

Conclusion: Abiding

Well then. In the words of a scholar who taught me many of the principles of applied hermeneutics and exegesis—“So what?” Was this all a pointless intellectual exercise, or does it make a difference to the life we’ll face on a Monday morning?

If you were expecting a list of things to do here, I’m going to have to disappoint you. The first thing Jesus tells us to do about His love is to stop doing things about it. His word of choice is “Abide”: “As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love” (John 15:9). “Abide” means “Make yourself at home.” Stay, relax, hang out, take a load off, pull up a seat, put down roots; you can stay forever. Jesus wants us to live in His love.

What does it mean to live in Jesus’ love? It means you can know you will always have someone who loves you. As the psalmist sang, “Though my father and my mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up” (Psalm 27:10).

It means that you never have to worry about being good enough for Him to love you. Jesus loved you first. Your behavior had nothing to do with it either way. You don’t have anything to live up to. You’re already good enough.

It means you don’t have to worry whether you will be loved or not. You just have to know that you are loved, and that therefore you are worth loving. You can lose the worries of legalism, perfectionism, and authoritarianism. You can feel the freedom to love yourself. You can feel the security of being unconditionally loved.

If you still insist on doing something, there is one thing you can do: You can love other people the same way Jesus does. Jesus said, “This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). Of course, that’s impossible, except for one thing: abiding in Jesus’ love changes us and makes us more like Him. The more we see what Jesus’ love is, the more we become able to love that way ourselves. It’s not the kind of commandment you have to struggle to live up to; it’s the kind of commandment you grow into and live out.

One other thing. Don’t accept substitutes. Don’t believe the lies. Once you see what Jesus’ love is like, stay there. Don’t put any other person or place or idea in that place, especially not one that’s a lie. Nothing can separate you from Jesus’ love for you. Nothing can stop you from being loved forever.

Anything that says otherwise isn’t Jesus.
____________

Eric M. Pazdziora is a freelance composer, pianist, worship leader, author, and editor who works for a variety of publications and venues. He is a graduate of Moody Bible Institute with aB.Mus. in sacred music composition. Eric lives in Chicago with his beautiful wife Carrie and their spoiled cat Eloise. His writing and music can be found online at http://www.ericpazdziora.com.

Link Love

Thank you for your patience as I continue to focus on Quivering Daughters, the book! Your comments and emails bless me tremendously ~ even if I do not respond right away, they keep me going like heart-coffee, so thank you.

 << X Isn't that a beautiful X? You can find many creative drop caps for your blog at
 Daily  Drop Cap. I use Firefox and the other day opened my page in IE, sad to discover that   for   some reason, the drop caps I normally use don't appear in Internet Explorer browsers. So  when I can, I'll add a little flair from Jessica's site.

Okay ~ some reading for you!

Elizabeth Esther has a great article up right now, titled "How to talk to someone living inside an abusive church/cult group."


Cindy wrote an invaluable five-part series called "Cognitive Dissonance and Bible Study Following Spiritual Abuse." Here is part one.


I am reading Thin Places by Mary DeMuth and will post a review in the next few weeks.


If you have any recommended reading, feel free to leave a comment or email!

Emmanuel.

Love Song, V — Light Dawns in Darkness

Continued from Love Song, IV—Mystery 

Death. I feared it so much, when I was little. For both me and others. I feared being left behind, hearing the dreaded "I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!" I feared the lake of fire, of being without Jesus, being without those I loved. I quivered for all the ones I knew, lost and unsaved; I feared I would end up taking the mark of the beast someday because I didn't prescribe to my "family's values" and was headed in a "different direction." I feared that most of all, God wouldn't really love me, and that even if He did, I'd still fall short, for my wickedness was great, and nothing I could do made me better or more acceptable—for all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.

Even as a child, my heart cried while Margaret Becker sang,
These are the tears
You never see
They're foolish to you
But they're drowning me 
My soul wore this lyric for years, like a dress that becomes you, until you aren't recognized without it.

A Maiden's Lament

"Hillary, may you come to know the love of God in your grown up life.”

I always shrugged at these words, penned so wisely on the inside cover of my little New Testament. Of course; God loves everyone, I'd shrug to myself and move on to the next thing. Yet this little prayer, written by the pastor who dedicated me to God as a wee little babe, became my lifeline in adult years. My weary soul, wandering within a hopeless wilderness, clung to it fiercely, as a promise and a blessing designed for me alone.

This may come as a surprise to you, but knowing the love of God can be the most difficult challenge a good Christian girl can face.

Especially a good, homeschooled Christian girl. 

And this good, homeschooled Christian girl, raised on Rod and Staff, unencumbered by the ways of the world, wanting to please everyone and agonizing over failures to be patient and kind grew into a woman of sorrow. Weary, sick, in the throes of ptsd, depressed, full of guilt and shame, I gave up. And my journey to discovering the love, grace, mercy and sanctification of God began only after I, or at least the woman I was and wanted to be, agreed to die.

I had to end my life as I knew it. I had to go back to the beginning—to the door.

a strange god

1 “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door, but climbs up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. 2 But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice; and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 And when he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them; and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. 5 Yet they will by no means follow a stranger, but will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” (John 10)
Those strangers are insidious fellows. They look so good, so righteous. They come bearing Bibles and proclaiming the name of God and teach Biblical living. They tell us how to become holy. They-who-climb-up-some-other-way quote Scripture and present compelling convictions. Why would we not listen to them? Wouldn't we be foolish—rebellious—to reject their words? Is it not our flesh that cries out, resistant to their voices?

The willingness to give up, to let go, to rest, to stop, to cease striving, to deliberately end a life of doing was born of physical, spiritual, and emotional exhaustion. But it's a scary thing to die. Its frightening to step into darkness. To throw religion, beliefs, myself upon the altar of the unknown. Everything, in fact, except for the Door. He was a mystery, this Door, but desperation birthed keen willingness to go against everything I'd ever believed, to seek that which I did not know.

Upon this altar I laid my religion.

I offered Him everything I believed and begged Him to kill me. To separate wheat from chaff. Then I stood before this altar, naked and aching, as it consumed everything I knew, everything I felt sure of and held sacred. I watched all become coal and smoke rise from a temple built over a lifetime of labor.

Only when flames simmered, and life smoldered before me like crumbling carbon, could I poke through ash to see what remained. When I did, I threw myself onto that quiet, solid, faithful cornerstone, and wept.

Eyes bled tears while He bathed my ugly, pulsing wounds. While I lay empty, broken, with nothing to offer in my weary hands—no Bible, no hymns of praise, no righteousness—the Lord of heaven and earth knelt into the darkness where I trembled, and washed soul feet.

I drank of His grace.
I did nothing. Nothing.
And He still loved me.
He called me by name, and I found pasture.
He nurtured life with compassion, not condemnation. Re-born, I finally recognized the true voice of God, and the gentle whisper of grace.

For this God accepted me.

Illustration of The Shepherd 
And suddenly, a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years came from behind and touched the hem of His garment. For she said to herself, “If only I may touch His garment I shall be made well.” (Matthew 9)
Twelve years of uncleanness. Twelve years of sorrow. Twelve years of loneliness and isolation; likely without even the comfort of a human touch. Twelve years of lost wages, dwindling hope, and despair. Twelve years of bearing the oppressive weight of the law:
‘If a woman has a discharge, and the discharge from her body is blood, she shall be set apart seven days; and whoever touches her shall be unclean until evening. Everything that she lies on during her impurity shall be unclean; also everything that she sits on shall be unclean. Whoever touches her bed shall wash his clothes and bathe in water, and be unclean until evening. And whoever touches anything that she sat on shall wash his clothes and bathe in water, and be unclean until evening. If anything is on her bed or on anything on which she sits, when he touches it, he shall be unclean until evening . . . If a woman has a discharge of blood for many days, other than at the time of her customary impurity, or if it runs beyond her usual time of impurity, all the days of her unclean discharge shall be as the days of her customary impurity. She shall be unclean. Every bed on which she lies all the days of her discharge shall be to her as the bed of her impurity; and whatever she sits on shall be unclean, as the uncleanness of her impurity. Whoever touches those things shall be unclean; he shall wash his clothes and bathe in water, and be unclean until evening. (Leviticus 15)
Consider this Jewish woman. Into her world walked Jesus. Other translations quote Jesus as saying Take heart! Have courage! For imagine her fear—yet also the desperation which drove her to grasp the hem of his robe! For even that small touch would render Him unclean, according to the law, and yet twelve years of agony drove her to seek a New Way . . . the narrow way of life, which few find. But Jesus turned around, and when He saw her He said, “Be of good cheer, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that hour. (v. 22)

Along with the healing of her body, the True Shepherd healed her soul. Instead of disdain, she was welcomed into the presence of God. Instead of turning away, He made her whole. He looked at her—imagine the love in His eyes! He received her in her shame, when all others would have turned away or recoiled from her touch. He commended her for going against the religious law out of faith that a better way had come. He comforted her, for she still felt trepidation, despite her faith. In one moment, He took away her uncleanness. He brought life to her body and healing to her heart. She was touched by God in the midst of her impurity, while all others in the name of God rejected her.

What a life-giving response! And it is His response to us, too—those of us wrought with sorrow, of exhaustive trying to measure up, of emotional and spiritual abuse. He calls us by name, longing for us to find pasture, rest, and restoration of soul. He makes way for us a new way—a journey out of darkness, sickness and shame which comes from following the voice of strangers.

I died, and grace gave me life.
A love song, indeed.

These are the arms That ache for you
Frightened to push too hard, Frightened you'll slip right through
This is the joy I want you to know
You say it's good for me But leave you alone
Well, I can't walk away Won't leave you here
When I am so sure We could always be near 
I know a place Where we can meet

Guest Post by Provender: "Dealing with a Sense of Futility After Leaving a Spiritually Abusive Situation"

I am honored to welcome Provender to Quivering Daughters.

Dealing with a Sense of Futility 
After Leaving a Spiritually Abusive Situation
by 

I recently visited a forum of former members of certain restrictive-type churches. I didn’t have to search long to find fallout from a spiritually abusive experience. The third comment on the most recent post said this:
I don't know what is sadder, that we've left and basically no one has cared or contacted us or that we still feel kind of sad that no one cared. We left the church I grew up in about a year ago and then started going to a new bigger church. … When we left the first church, family members shunned us and treated us bad because basically, how dare we leave the little family church to go to a bigger church, one of their enemy churches. As far as they are concerned we are basically out of the Lords will and living under a curse for leaving them. Then in May we stopped going to the big church and no one cared. What's crazy is that we still haven't completely given up on the idea of going back to …[this kind of] church, we just don't know which one to go to. We are entertaining the idea of going to a different type of church but it's like we are stuck in depression and confusion and don't know what to do anymore. What is wrong with me that I tend to cling toward a religion and think about going back to these churches that were nothing but crazy drama anyways and then to top it off when we left the people didn't care anyway! We have no friends anymore and most of our family doesn't speak to us. They don't even like us enough to try to win us back!
Then, sadly, the author of the comment adds a pathetic “Lol.” at the very end.

There really isn’t a lot to laugh about here.

The comment was just the first example I could find. It is not an isolated case. Far from it. All over the nation – really, all over the world, according to the Feedjit site reader on the Provender page – individuals are leaving churches with their faith demolished and their spiritual ideals shattered, victims of abusive churches.

When churches or church leaders take the most vulnerable parts of us, our trust and faith, and rip them to shreds, the results are truly devastating.

On Provender, I link to an article called Psychological Issues of Former Members of Restrictive Religious Groups by Jim Moyers. This piece examines the great damage done to those whose faith was shattered after leaving “fundamentalist” groups.

Moyers details the effects of something he calls “Shattered Faith Syndrome.” Here is how he describes it: Having lost faith in what was once a primary source of meaning and guidance, the former believer feels lost and overwhelmed. While not all groups go so far as to prohibit contact with those who leave, a former member is unlikely to be well regarded by the faithful. Estrangement from the community of believers - the focus of social life within many such groups - will compound the sense of isolation and despair that often comes with the loss of one's faith.

Isolation and despair: the hallmarks of severely abused Christians abandoned by their former friends.

Moyers says that the psychological effects experienced by such outcasts are long-lasting. He says they often undergo a chronic “sense of dissatisfaction coupled with difficulties in finding new sources of meaning and direction.”

That certainly would describe the forum commenter above. Because controlling groups treat human reason with suspicion, Moyers says, these members too often fall prey to authoritarian teachings.

Their teachings stress “human imperfection.” The followers often internalize the belief that pride in oneself is sinful, and that results in a perpetual negative self image.

Carrying around a persistently negative self image is a horrible way to live. The toll, even before leaving the group, must be a burden difficult to shoulder.

Moyers says that many inhibitions and compulsions as well as frustration and guilt stick around long after those who leave have intellectually rejected the teachings. “Having been taught to regard every impulse as potentially evil,” Moyers writes, “the former believer may have little capacity for spontaneity and lack viable means for genuine self-expression.”

Some of the spiritual abuse checklists mentioned on Provender include “lack of a sense of humor” as a sign. Living with constant negativity is a sure way to beat out of a person any spontaneity or humor. It is no wonder people from controlling groups begin to dress, act and look the same, and often seem to have little joy.

Even after they escape or are kicked out of controlling fellowships, they still experience some of that same flatness, and sometimes things might even seem worse for a while.

After you are out, where do you find new friends? In churches your former elitist church looked down on and castigated? Unlikely. Out in the world, full of sinners and backsliders? Hardly. In another elitist group? All too often that’s what outcasts are led back to.

It isn’t unusual to find people who’ve fallen from one abusive group right into the lap of another. Wanda Mason’s story comes to mind. Also, Margaret Jones’s.

Moyers claims that when people leave restrictive groups, they lose the tenets that formerly composed their source of meaning and self-definition, “the central organizing principle of her or his life.” When you lose the core, you are suddenly open to a sense of meaninglessness or futility.

Because of this, there is going to have to be a period of grieving, and people in these situations don’t always recognize that need. Many of these groups are already suspicious of “worldly” psychology. Psychology is seen to be a system of explaining the human heart in direct competition to the biblical worldview.

If you didn’t trust psychology when you were in a controlling group, you probably aren’t suddenly going to find it acceptable when you are out. It still holds a threatening place to many. But even so, just as medicine has value, mind medicine also has value, and survivors who do take advantage of therapeutic methods may end up with an advantage.

Moyers suggests that naming your losses and also those things you gained by leaving “can go a long way towards helping someone move through a necessary grief process. The depression that an ex-member may feel is a normal and understandable response to a very real loss.”

He also points out the “double loss” that ex-members from these groups have to deal with. They aren’t understood by family and friends still in the group, and they aren’t understood by those outside. To the world, any member of an unorthodox group is probably going to seem weird. Moyers says they are therefore “misunderstood and isolated.”

Another article on the deep repercussions of spiritual abuse comes from the churchabuse.com site. Titled Spiritual Identity Crisis? this article describes the loss that comes after spiritual abuse as a void, as the stealing of our identity. The anonymous author says that when we let our identity be taken by these groups, we are “forced to manage our own identity again” after the leader is no longer a part of our lives.

The author likens the process to brain surgery. Afterwards, you have to learn all kinds of basic skills all over again. It’s not impossible, but it can take a long time.

Here is a very powerful description from the article on what happens: “When we turned our back on the pastor/group, it was equal to abandoning God in our minds. In our desire to please the group/leader, we learned to become people pleasers, which caused us to abandon our own identity. We replaced who we were on a very deep spiritual level with the identity of the group/leader. We emptied ourselves out and took on the group mentality. After we escape this process, we find ourselves feeling empty and fractured. This is not because God is gone, but rather, because we abandoned our self identity.”

No wonder we who have escaped controlling groups often wander around aimlessly, almost in a state of shock sometimes. The central core of who we are has been manipulated and distorted. When we no longer have purpose, when we have lost our own identity, everything we do can seem futile, worthless.

The author describes what can happen when you feel this way. Some will stop reading the Bible or going to church for a while. Some are exhausted and stop working to please others, focusing on self. Others find it hard even to make decisions or perform simple, daily functions. Some cannot form their own opinions. Some will struggle for years.

But the article does end on a positive note. It says that though it is hard to do these basic things, you CAN take back your life again. Like atrophied muscles, your decision-making powers just have to start being exercised again, and eventually they can get into shape.

So if you are dealing with a sense of futility after leaving a spiritually abusive situation, what do you do?

Recognize, first, that you aren’t alone. What you are experiencing is a common reaction to the manipulations of a spiritually abusive group.

Second, be careful that in your haste to avoid all the negative fallout you don’t immediately seek refuge in another abusive group. Keep eyes and ears open!

Third, recognize that you might have to take a break from church and church-related activities for a while. It might feel strange and seem wrong, but until your discernment skills are given a chance to be strengthened, and until you have “decompressed” or “detoxed” it might be necessary.

Fourth, list the negatives of being in the group as well as the gains from being out of it.

Fifth, talk about your experience and read about the experiences of others on sites such as this one. When you’ve lived under repressive systems for a long time, chances are there was an unspoken “don’t talk” rule. You feel like you’re gossiping every time you mention your negative experiences. You weren’t. You were being controlled. Now it’s time to get it all out in the open.

Sixth, pray. Even if you’re not sure who God is anymore. It’s okay. It really can’t hurt to pray.

If these authors are right, and I think they are, eventually you will be able to find purpose and light and hope again, though it may take time.


Provender
_______________________________

For more, please visit Provender"A clearinghouse of sources on spiritual abuse and cult-like practices in churches and groups." It provides a wealth of information, hope, and encouragement. Many, many thanks for your contribution to Quivering Daughters.

Soul Rape



He took the poor man's lamb.
2 Samuel 12 Then the LORD sent Nathan to David. And he came to him, and said to him: “There were two men in one city, one rich and the other poor. The rich man had exceedingly many flocks and herds.  But the poor man had nothing, except one little ewe lamb which he had bought and nourished; and it grew up together with him and with his children. It ate of his own food and drank from his own cup and lay in his bosom; and it was like a daughter to him.  And a traveler came to the rich man, who refused to take from his own flock and from his own herd to prepare one for the wayfaring man who had come to him; but he took the poor man’s lamb and prepared it for the man who had come to him.”
This depiction of tenderness and sweetness marred so cruelly by death grabs my breath and won't let go. Even King David rose up in rage. "So David’s anger was greatly aroused against the man, and he said to Nathan, “As the LORD lives, the man who has done this shall surely die! And he shall restore fourfold for the lamb, because he did this thing and because he had no pity.”(v. 5-6)

When innocent, vulnerable souls trust those in charge for protection, nourishment, and sustenance, only to be used, manipulated, and betrayed, it is not unlike the story of the poor man and his little ewe lamb.

Both were oppressed. Both knew injustice. Both were sinned against. Both were helpless in the hands of one bigger, stronger, and more powerful than they.

Physical rape is one of the ultimate damaging, horrific crimes against another living being. It assaults the most intimate, private element of the body, deeply affecting the heart, mind and spirit. With force, it seizes and plunders—it is the abuse of power over the powerless. It violates the sacred, with brutal desecration.

Spiritual rape violates the soul.

God as a weapon

Religious abuse, especially from those closest to us, plunders the most intimate aspects of our existence. When we are told what to think, when those in authority assume the position of Holy Spirit, when God is re-shaped by human hands, when those in leadership control thoughts, behavior, and being in the very name of God, He has been used as an instrument of violence.

A parent who manipulates thought and behavior using the name of God, "the Bible says," fear of hell, death, disappointment, worldliness, the world, the falling away, the mark of the beast, and a hundred other threats, seizes, plunders, and exerts force . . . and mis-represents the true God to trusting, innocent beings created in His image.

Within Christian families, a child who accepts Jesus becomes a brother or sister in Christ. And Jesus said, "as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me."

This does not diminish the importance for instruction in righteousness, or the nurture and admonition of the Lord. But using religion as coercive means demonstrates utter lack of faith and trust, putting authoritarian parents in a very dangerous position.
Jesus therefore answered and said to them, “Do not murmur among yourselves. No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up at the last day. It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Therefore everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to Me. John 6
As a son starts to walk by the Spirit, an earthly father should encourage his son’s decision-making and guidance to come from a personal relationship with the heavenly Father, not himself. To the degree that the father makes the decisions and dictates the lifestyle of his believing son, to that degree he hinders his son’s spiritual life. A father’s role should decrease just as John the Baptist’s role decreased when Jesus appeared (John 3:30).
This applies to daughters, too.

Will the Real God please stand up?

“Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." Luke 12

To those taken advantage of, spiritually, particularly in the realm of a religious family,
to those used and manipulated to advance human interpretations, ideals, and intentions,
to those who feel helpless, exhausted, and afraid,
to those who want to discover truth and know who the true God is, really . . .
. . . there is hope.

Because He wants to be known by you.

True shepherds balance truth with humility, mercy, and grace.
True shepherds do not take the little ewe lambs. They do not kill, eat, and consume them. Rather, they feed and nourish.

Recovery from Spiritual Rape

Much like incest—which is sexual abuse within the family—familial spiritual abuse is especially repugnant. Out of every place on earth, family should be the safest haven, opening inviting arms as shelter for ravaging, brutal storms.

When dysfunction occurs, when humans are humans, when they say, "I will be like the Most High," wounding happens.

And the little ewe lambs are taken.

1) Acknowledge truth

King David wrote Psalm 51 following his exposure by the prophet Nathan. Verse six has been a lifeline for me throughout spiritual abuse recovery.

Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts,
And in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.

We tend to gloss things over, especially when it comes to those we love most. We defend and make excuses; we elevate our own flaws as though this justifies abuse. But advocating denial keeps us in darkness, unhealed. When we invite the light of His truth to expose the violation, the rape, the abuse we sustained, He has space to work. It is frightening to venture towards the darkness. It can be messy. But He makes everything beautiful in its time, and who the Son makes free, is free indeed.

2) Renew the mind
I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Romans 12
In addition to overcoming denial, we must be willing to let God sort through the wheat and chaff within our minds. For me, this required that I let go of everything I had always believed except for Jesus and the cross, and beseech God to replace lies with truth.

Within a spiritually abusive environment, mind control runs amok in the hands of authoritarians, who use good things for selfish purpose. It is vital we allow God to correct errors in thought, belief, doctrine. We must be a living sacrifice, serving Him and not the theology of man, and this necessitates renewal of the mind so misshapen and injured by abusive principles.

To be conformed to this world is to be pressured from the outside. This fleshly mind Paul decries in Colossians 2:
why, as though living in the world, do you subject yourselves to regulations—“Do not touch, do not taste, do not handle,” which all concern things which perish with the using—according to the commandments and doctrines of men? These things indeed have an appearance of wisdom in self-imposed religion, false humility, and neglect of the body, but are of no value against the indulgence of the flesh.
The antidote for worldly thinking is transformation: change from within.

3) Learn to express truth
1 Peter 1:13 Therefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and rest your hope fully upon the grace that is to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ; 14 as obedient children, not conforming yourselves to the former lusts, as in your ignorance; 15 but as He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, 16 because it is written, “Be holy, for I am holy.”
Spiritually abusive methods which implement mind control rely upon re-interpreting or eliminating individual thinking and acknowledgment of feelings. Whereas feelings are not always a barometer of truth, they can reflect crucial internal conditions. As you journey towards recovery, you will feel many different feelings, such as anger, grief, loss. The old way, the way which conformed to our religious world, instructed us to deny these feelings, to die to ourselves. Yet how does convincing ourselves to believe a lie—I shouldn't feel anger, this is just my flesh, I cannot allow this sadness, for I should have the joy of the Lord—have any sort of merit in a quest for healing?

How often did denying these feelings lead to deep, lasting wholeness?
For what has man for all his labor, and for the striving of his heart with which he has toiled under the sun? For all his days are sorrowful, and his work burdensome; even in the night his heart takes no rest. This also is vanity. Ecc. 2
We tend to over-spiritualize, but Paul cautions against the mind corruption which distorts the simplicity of Christ. My exhortation for those struggling with overcoming pain from spiritual abuse is to try a new way. To be truthful with yourself, with God. To be transformed—changed from within, through the work of the Holy Spirit. If you feel, then feel. If you need rest, then rest. A foundational element of spiritual abuse is the drive to do . . . to pray more, fast more, read the Bible more, witness more. Perhaps as you re-discover the true God, the one who bids come, rest, you will find that the journey to healing requires you to stop.

Cease striving.

Be.
Comfort for the weary

Jesus prayed, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. This is a beautiful, gut-wrenching prayer—literally, as He hung upon the cross. He knew of their ignorance, He knew that His torturers did what was right in their eyes, and the eyes of religious law. But that did not stop the spear which pierced His side. Did not stop His agony as He cried out, My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?

It did not stop His death.

We who bear the rape of the soul have wounds so deep, pain so great, because it affects the core of our being which is created in the very image of He who is used against us.

He is abused when we are abused.

We can take comfort, joining Him in the fellowship of His sufferings.
that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.
There is hope even for those who have inflicted this destruction. The Jesus who took our place on the cross for our sins, with whom we have fellowship of sufferings, who became sin for us, endured at once the pain of the abuser and the abused.

And His mercies are new every morning.
_______________

Similar posts:
The Stolen Years
Sparrows, Falling