Our son, raised in the cult from the age of 18 months, helped us out after he went to UCLA, got into the theology library and got delivered. He was excommunicated, of course. Like good cult zombies, we withdrew our financial support from him at first, but at the same time pleaded and argued with the cult leader to reverse the excommunication. Our son was forgiving and persistent. He wrote us letters, sent us books, and planted enough seeds of doubt and truth that we left six months later, being pretty much forced out for not agreeing with the leadership.
Margaret Irons
God bless those who persevere to sow seeds of freedom.mustard seed faith by: annben02 in photobucket
...[An] attitude worth changing...is the tendency to control others. I find this especially prevalent among those who find their security in religious rigidity.
They get their way by manipulating and intimidating. They use fear tactics, veiled threats, and oblique hints to get their way.
...Controllers win by intimidation. Whether physical or verbal,they bully their way as they attempt to manipulate us into doing their will.
"Quick! I am sane now. If only I could get out of this enchanted chair, it would last. But every night they bind me, and so every night my chance is gone. But you are not enemies. I am not your prisoner. Quick! Cut these cords."
In the post "Good Friday Quote", I quoted from Brock and Bodie Thoene's bookGrieve like Mary at the grave for all you cannot understand.
Give up to God the hopes your love has begotten.
Mourn at the tomb of what you've lost.
Then give up to God what you cannot change.
Remember there will be Easter morning.
Resurrection.
Hope in that alone.
Bear your scars with joy.
It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to.
I've stepped on the road of freedom and there is no knowing what wonderful adventures I will have.
So, I feel I've buried the enslaved, fearful Dobby part of myself in the quiet grave by the sea and thrown the ring of memories in the fires of Mt. Doom.
Because I am me, I have a few last words for the person who, for many years, held such a place of absolute control over my mind:
To My Former Pastor:
Did you know the apostle Paul was once the same as you?
He was a spiritual abuser- the ultimate kind: If one didn't believe as he thought one should or practice one's faith according to his rules, he had that person killed.
Chuck Swindoll, in his book The Grace Awakening , called him a grace killer.
There is an incredible twist to Paul's story- he didn't remain a grace killer and a spiritual abuser. He had a grace awakening.
He went on to vehemently fight against the effects of grace killers:
O you dear idiots of Galatia, who saw Jesus crucified so plainly, who has been casting a spell over you? I shall ask you a simple question...Surely you can't be so idiotic as to think that a man begins his spiritual life in the Spirit and then completes it by reverting to outward observances?
There are times when God sends thunder to stir us. There are times when God send blessings to lure us. But there are times when God sends nothing but silence as He honors us with the freedom to choose where we spend eternity.
Grace...brings a freedom to enjoy the privileges of being out from under slavery and allowing other such freedom...It is a freedom to become all that He meant me to be, regardless of how He leads others... I can be me...and freedom is then released to others so they can be who they are meant to be-different from me!
"Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
Our Lord has written the promise of the resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in spring-time.
She tried to remember what Father O'Bannon said when she survived her own inferno and others she loved did not...when she could not...kneel before the living God without reproaching Him for her suffering. What was it that made her lay aside her bitterness...opening the drawer she rifled through a sheaf of papers until she came to a single yellowed sheet she had written upon years ago... Scars.Visible.Invisible...The wounds of a risen Christ...hands,head, side and feet.Touch them and believe.
Hide in them and live.
Cherish your scars, Kate. They make you more like Him.
Christ crucified, the only begotten Son of God sacrificed for you.
And at the foot of the cross, most human of all agony. His mother watched Him die.
Think on it! To stand helpless while the child she loved suffered and died...She took Him from the cross and buried Him...Grieve like Mary at the grave for all you cannot understand.
Give up to God the hopes your love has begotten
Mourn at the tomb of what you've lost.
Then Give up to God what you cannot change.
Remember there will be Easter morning.
Hope in that alone.
Bear your scars with joy.
