My Story: Can't You See I'm Dying?

To start the beginning of the end of the blog I am re-posting the personal accounts of life in an abusive Dade City church.

This is my story:

I was part of a Tampa/Dade City church for twenty-four years. If I sat at this computer for a year and typed continuously, I couldn't begin to record the horror perpetrated on me and those I love.

At the same time, I have experienced God's amazing deliverance from destructive cult and the amazing concern from those who walked with me as I left behind a spiritually-abusive hell.

My history begins with my parents attending the church when I was pre-school age.

The pastor at the time tried to 'sever ties' with the movement called the 'Body'; being a young child, I didn't understand what this meant.

Two Must Reads: "A Counterfeit Appearance..." by Shari and "Stolen Hearts" by Lewis

Unless you have experienced this level of control over your life and choices, you can't fully appreciate the oppression. We were not free to choose our own wardrobe (especially the women) or hairstyles. There were rigid rules and restrictions. Long skirts and dresses were requirements for women (no pants allowed). We were expected to wear nylons (even in severe heat), rather than expose bare legs. Earrings were forbidden. Make up was considered worldly. Elbows and knees were to be covered. Women were to grow their hair long. Even nail polish on fingers or toes was a sign of worldliness and would result in disapproving looks, comments, and even public chastisement in the form of a rebuking "testimony."-Miss Oblivious Thinks Aloud-