Abuse Within the IFB Bubble

Below find a link to the personal testimony of a brave lady who suffered abuse with the IFB system. She now shares how she struggled and survives. Please take the time to read her story. This kind of thing must end.

A Personal Story of Abuse from Wendy Terrado

Heeding the Whistle

It has been close to a year since I ended a second post at the door of my van after a long, dark walk from the front entrance building at Bob Jones University. It has been a very rough year, not just for me, but for many of my close friends. After an email from a very dear friend, I knew it was time to take the teapot off the stove, and quiet the whistle once again.

First, I need to finish what happened at the end of the walk I discussed months ago in Teapot's Long Walk and A Teapot in the Dark. I'd love to say that I'm all healed, but it wouldn't be true. This world has become darker with mass shootings, hate crimes, and general malaise and selfishness among its inhabitants. And many of God's people have ignored the deep needs of those around them, and substituted "I'll pray for you" in place of love and service.

I came to my van that day in August 2011 with a broken heart, a betrayed trust, and little, if any, faith in God. I had always been the good girl, people-pleaser I was expected to be as taught throughout my life in church, school and home. But when I began to stand up against unequal treatment, and wrong-doing that I knew existed, I was harassed, and even worse----ignored. That was not supposed to happen in a Christian environment to one of God's children who worked so hard to do right. So, as you see in those posts mentioned above, the foundation of who I was, and all the facets of my life crumbled leaving a dark, Godless void.

The good news is that my faith returned.I didn't completely dismiss God as some understandably do. I can only credit the grace of God for that. It was not of my own doing, because I was ready to ditch everything I had believed. Though, thinking about it, I actually did. But the Holy Spirit within me helped me build a new foundation of brick formed of grace and bonded with love for others. My perspective of others began to change from the "us versus them" viewpoint of non-Christians to just "us;"  made in His image and deeply loved by God.

My new foundation is a work in progress as am I. I still wind up chucking a brick or two into the abyss of non-belief and depression. But what remains is stable enough to keep me grounded. Each brick formed of grace is not based on what I learned from man, but from my personal relationship with God.

My beliefs, my thoughts, my sins, God's love.

My next post will be all about that shrieking teapot, and what it is calling me to do. 

Serve God! Love Others!

Teapotjan

A Teapot in the Dark

In my last regular post, I ended again with that long walk to my van. Faith gone. Disillusioned. Crying. Frightened. In spite of the bright August sun, I was in the dark. I didn't know anyone or anyplace I could look for guidance. All of my regular sources bore the stench of betrayal, and I turned inward.

I feebly attempted to appear happy. It was nice to stay at home, but I grew restless quickly. I tried to make up for the loss of income by clipping coupons, and looking for deals. And I learned that I HATED clipping coupons. (Seriously, still do). I started working fervently on a wedding for a friend, and that became a welcome distraction, but I still felt sick at heart, and numb. Numb, at least until the realization of what had happened in a place that I had loved and defended for years washed over me. So I capitulated between disinterest, empty euphoria, and tears. 

I had a health issue that had grown worse during the year or so before that made my emotions all the more volatile. After a falling out with the bride I was helping, I turned over all the work I had done, and was not able to see the fruits of my labor at the wedding. And, honestly, the dark got even darker. And I was bitter, bitter, bitter, and so sad. God had deserted me. I was sure of this. And Satan whispered often to me that I was of no worth, and that God was distant and uncaring.

There were many conversations with acquaintances that ended in "If you could just pray and find a good church, you will be so much better." At that point they might have well told me to slather my self in syrup and stand on ant hill. Prayers ended in tears and bitterness, and church services? They turned my stomach. "All these stupid people gobbling this stuff up. What have they done differently than me? Just wait. You'll all find out just how futile all of this is." This inner monologue went on and on. I am still grateful that no one could read my mind. It all just. . . . hurt, both physically and mentally.

It would be a wonderful thing to say that all of this is now resolved, and that every, single day I am a happy, giddy Christian flitting about Greenville with wings strengthened by God's grace, but that's a lie. Many days are still dark. The story of my dark times continues, but I will soon share what God does for a sad, short, stout gal who has lost her faith, and trust.

Even as I write this, my heart heaves with a recent, new hurt, and my emotional state is, let's say "fragile." (Goodness-I do seem to cry in some way with every single emotion. I am soooo not a Vulcan). I struggle with a loss of support from someone close to me. I know that God sent that person along to help me during the dark times after leaving Bob Jones. But, for now, due to a transgression on my part, that support is gone, and I'm not sure I will ever gain it back. 

I say that not to discourage, but to share a lesson I am learning right now, in this moment. Because God did bring me through those dark times before, and

He did show me the light even when I tried to close my eyes tight and turn away, I know that He is still there. He does still care. I know what my heart wants, but I am willing to follow Him, even if it pulls me away from people very dear to me. No, I don't want that to happen. Not. At. All. But God sees all, and He will provide what I need. He is never the problem. It's me. But, He loves me anyway. That's pretty amazing. 

So, my plan in my next post is to share a few more details of my lessons learned, and how God works in those details.

Prayers for all of you.

Serve God. Love others.

Teapotjan

Teapot's Long Walk

At the end of my last post, Satan had delivered his one-two punch of guilt and self doubt. I was leaving a job I had truly loved, and a place that I had thought rested on the pinnacle of the Christian faith, and I was walking toward my van to leave both forever. And everything was black. Everything. My faith in man and God was gone, and I did not want to move forward.

I resigned of my own choice. But that decision was based on how the administration of my department had treated me as a woman, and co-worker, as well as the lack of support from the school administration. I had fought, since my husband had left the school two years before, to receive the same benefits as my male co-workers. After a long year of paying tuition for the only child enrolled at that time, and a struggle to work until five and throughout the summer without the benefit of paid child care, my struggles seem to pay off, and I was granted back tuition and child care. I was exceptionally happy, and I felt validated. The news came while my family was on vacation in South Dakota, and I actually looked forward to the end of vacation and my return to work.

Someone posted the other day on Facebook saying that if you can tell your story without crying, then you are healed. But, even four years later, I still can't talk or write about this without shedding a least a few tears. 

When I returned to work after vacation, things became much worse. I had a staff co-worker lie directly to my face, and then deny it. I overheard comments and implications about how I, along with one or two other department employees needed to be forced out because we demanded too much training for our student workers. And I found that many of the female students did not want to deal with that same co-worker because of the questionable things he said to them. Scheduling changes in training were made and I was not informed, along with many other actions and talks that I now realize were harassment. At one staff meeting, I made the statement that if I were a man, I would be more respected. One co-worker said to me under his

breath "You know, there's an operation for that."I did report it, and I was brushed aside. Yet I still heard in chapel, and in faculty staff meetings that all these kinds of decisions were made by godly men, making prayerful, godly choices. And I kept trying.

But day after day, I returned home from work, crying, stressed and sick. Rumors about me and my family flew around the school, and made their way to my church. It wasn't that I was worried about the rumors because that's just what they were. But it was those who heard them, knew they weren't true and did nothing. At all. In fact, the main rumormonger was promoted above to "keep him away from the students as you requested." As the school year passed, I knew I had to leave for my own health, and for my family.

That long walk was only a hundred feet or so, but by the time I reached the driver's side door, I had determined that God must be watching from very far away, if indeed He existed, and that I had been an idiot to trust that He would bother with me.

So, here I am again-at that van. The walk is over, but the next few months were very dark. Again, I say that if God had not watched over me, and lead me even in my blindness toward Him, I would not be here to write these words.

Next, I'll finish the details of those darkest months, and share how God in His wisdom and grace delivered me.

God is Good,

Teapotjan

Nothing-----I mean ----NO ONE Between My Soul and My Saviour

I dearly love my father. He lives with me, and my family. He will be eighty-eight years old on St. Patrick's day this year. I am his only child, and he still watches over me as fiercely as his did when I was little. He is my hero.

Dad with his favorite dessert,
banana pudding.

He was saved in his early thirties, not long before he married my mother, and about two years before 

I was born. My folks were learning Christians when I was born. And being in the south, and being in the Bible belt, they grew in the Lord through fundamentalist churches. Yes, that is possible. God works in spite of human failings and misinterpretations. And I grew up as a "born-again, KJV Bible-believing, rapture-expecting, in-church-every-time-the-doors-open, marching-in-the-Lord's army, no-pants-wearing, no-cartoon-watching-or-unecessary-work-on-Sunday, don't-question-the

Shook his sweaty hand so much
his ring would fly off and hit
someone. Saw it firsthand.

'man of God,' independent Baptist, daughter-of-the-church-pianist, treasurer, deacon and adult Sunday school class teacher and his lady-fellowship-speaking, sing-in-the-choir, teach-the-little-kids Sunday school teacher." Can I get an amen? (At this point, if I were one of my old pastors, I'd wipe my brow with a large handkerchief and take a sip of water from the cup that one of the deacons had hidden in the pulpit). 

That being said, my dad is a loving and kind man. While he was, and is, part of the fundamentalist camp, his walk with the Lord has always been tempered with love. But even now, I see some of that old learning creeping into our conversations.

Today, we were talking about what the Bible actually says about the fate of those who do not choose God's gift of eternal life. I told him that I had been putting a lot of deep thought and study into it and had come to my own conclusions. That conclusion was contrary to the idea of eternal suffering and pain that we had always been told was a solid tenet based on Scripture. I gave several verses, peppered with a few greek word translations, and he listened intently. When I was done, he looked at me and asked, "did someone tell you this and you are buying into what they say?" I told him that to the contrary, this was my own study and my own interpretation of what I had read. And then it happened. My father shook his head and said "Deep thinking is a tool of Satan."

NO, NO, NO!

It all came back in a sweeping flood of doubt and confusion, a feeling that I should not have questioned what I had always been taught. That I should take some preacher man's word for what I believed. I'm a woman after all and I should be submis. . . . wait. The flood halted.

My conclusion did not contradict Scripture. It didn't change that we need to witness and bring all into God's grace that we can. It only changed another person's interpretation of Scripture that isn't as set as I was led to believe. That's all.

 And I stand before God as myself redeemed by Christ's sacrifice. He is my only advocate to God. Not my husband. Not a preacher. Not any other human. Me. Janet, deep-thinker and servant of God. No one between.

Teapotjan,

Beloved of God, and 

child of the King

"Better than I deserve"

How many times have you asked a good man or woman how they are and received the answer: "Better than I deserve!" My initial reaction the first time I heard it was to smile, and think "What a lovely, humble answer." And I don't really mind it now, except that in some ways I do. . . 

I understand what it means. We don't deserve to enter Heaven's gates. We don't deserve God's grace and mercy. Got it. Truly. I humbly admit that I am a sinner who can never,ever live up to God's holy standard. I fail at it every day.

But do we "deserve" to be miserable, in ill health, and in poverty on this earth as opposed to being happy, healthy, and employed? Is that God's plan for His children? In His word, does He say that we are to be less than happy? We suffer from the effects of the Fall and from sin entering creation, but does that lessen or diminish what we deserve?

Recently, since I am still on this journey from guilt to grace, I started pondering that saying.

There are over eighty verses in the Bible concerning "joy"and a dozen or more concerning "prosperity." Third John 1:2 says "Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth." John writes to those he teaches and leads about prospering in life, health, and in Christ. 

"So," you say, "what's your point, Teapot?" Well, here goes. . . Those of us who grew up in big "F" Fundamentalism spent most of our lives being told we were nothing, pitiful, awful beings, unworthy of love, unworthy of happiness, scum fit only to be scraped off the shoes of the Almighty. Being so lowly, any happiness that we enjoyed was "more than we deserve." I can't tell you how many services I left feeling useless and completely unworthy to serve God. 

Maybe some of my fellow churchgoers were driven to service by those hopeless words, but I found them discouraging and belittling to my self image and my worth in Christ. I mean if I'm so lowly, what good am I and why would God want me to serve Him? I already struggled with a low self image, and the knowledge that I didn't really fit in to most places, and I was constantly told by men I respected that I was bad, bad, bad. I have to tell you that did not help stave off the depression!

But I live under Grace now. I realize that God thought me worthy enough to send His Son to die for me. He endowed me with certain talents, and a certain personality. He made me unique. He loves and cherishes ME. If us mere humans take that much trouble for someone we want them to prosper and be happy-correct? Then how much more does a perfect and loving God want for us?  

I'm not teaching a prosperity Gospel. I don't think that serving God equals riches and goods like some well-know television preachers preach. I do firmly believe that He wants us to enjoy our time on the earth He created. He makes the everyday things like sunsets and sunrises extraordinarily beautiful.Our toddlers smile and gurgle like angels. He allowed us to invent ways to consume chocolate, and steak, and potatoes, and ice cream. We live in an imperfect world because of sin, but He has still provided a universe of beauty, pleasure, and happiness.


So, if you ask me how am I, I'll be thinking: "I'm blessed and enjoying what God has provided for me. I hope I can get more! He loves me and He wants the very best for me!" But, since that reply usually gets me strange looks, I'll probably say "I'm doing okay!"

Living a prosperous life,

Teapotjan

If I Could Fade Away

If I could fade away

• by Teapotjan, 21 minutes, 4s ago

If I could fade away from this place, this earth, this mortal vale.
And leave behind no tears, no sorrow, no regret, no fail.
I would.
I would fade away and fade, until vapor marked my final tear,
And be not sad, not hurt, not mortal, not . . . .here.
I should.
I should not feel this way at night, in the morning, and the in betweens.
My own self wars against me, and loses, and wins, and screams.
I could.
I could leave, but the leaving would be like a slash in time.
And I would cause tears, and sorrows, and regrets not mine.
I won't.
I won't fade away until God erases my breath, my heart, my place.
I'll stay and work and live in Grace.
I'll wait.

RIP Robin Williams.

Teapotjan

Teapot Tedium

This summer has been a time of reflection, rumination, and the resulting melancholy that a mind like mine always seems to sink into when reflecting,and ruminating.

There has been change that heralds further change: some good, some bad, and some that completely fills me with uncertainty and dread. But through all of this, one thing remains constant and unchanging, the love and grace of the God of creation.

I've often said that my favorite attribute of God is His immutability. Humans have their ups and downs. Our daily routine, in spite of the mundane nature of the term, can send our spirits soaring or plunge our souls into darkness. We develop from innocent, helpless, small beings into flawed adults with emotional baggage and ridiculous expectations in less than twenty years. Friends come, and go. Loved ones visit, grow older, and pass from our lives into eternity. We live in a constant state of change even when life seems tedious. All the while, God watches, unchanging and and unsurprised.

                                                      Overwhelmed_by_marjol3in

Speaking of tedious, the past week or so has defined the word "tedious." One occurrence after another led me to question God. Have I not learned enough? Am I not patient and kind? Is this really what you want for me? Can happiness not last more than a few minutes? Must reality step up immediately and slap us in the face? I want to be happy. I'm tired of crying. If things must change, why can't I have the change that I want? 

Many questions, some doubt, a lot of hurt, and disappointment. This isn't the first week in my life that has been tedious, and it won't be the last. So, how to hang on? 

And then, reminded by the Holy Spirit, I remember: 

As tedious and difficult that our time on earth might seem, even as the day grows longer, and the tears flow, and the losses seem unbearable, in the light of eternity these days are nothing. NOTHING. For those who believe in God's plan, and His gift of salvation, this is as bad as it will ever get. Our worse day on this planet defines our worse day in all of eternity. 

That doesn't mean that these days aren't hard. 

And with my flawed memory,  I will need reminding again and again. 

But when the realization of that truth washes over me, it feels like a breeze holding the promise of a cool night on a very hot day. 

It shines through my dark clouds of depression like a lighthouse marking my home in the distance. 

I'm not yet comfortable all the time, and I'm not home yet. But I see it ahead. Our unchanging, loving God waits there. He knows my path. He knows I struggle. He loves me. 

Looking ahead,

Teapotjan

Abusing the Abused

Tom, cowered and limping walks into his local bank asking to meet with the loan officer, Howard. Tom's face is drawn, and dark shadows surround his eyes. He avoids looking directly at the loan officer at first, but after a deep breath, he looks up and says "I need help. My store was robbed two years ago by the Mayor's son, Robert. He stole most of my inventory, and I have never quite recovered the loss. I didn't report it because I was so ashamed that I couldn't protect my store. But, I've come to the point that I must do something in order to buy food, and escape from the fear of being robbed again." 


Howard motions Tom to sit, and after 

confirming that Tom has spoken to no one else, begins: "Well, we shouldn't take this to the police because public knowledge of the Mayor's son thieving ways would really hurt our little town's reputation, wouldn't it? But I'll be glad to lead you through the process of recovery.I really, truly want to help you, Tom. You're a good friend, and the city loves you." And then Howard begins his questioning. 

"First, did you in any way ever invite Robert to steal your merchandise? You know, did you ever give him a discount or a free item?Because that's like an open invitation to someone like Robert. Oh, and did he take anything that you were glad to be rid of? If so, he really kind of did you a favor, didn't he? And finally,have you called Robert to tell him that you have forgiven him for stealing your things, and to ask him to forgive you for allowing it to happen?" In desperation, and disbelief, Tom gets up quickly, and leaves without so much as a glance back. Two days later, they find his body in the burned ruins of his store. And Robert's father complacently carries on the work of running his small town. "Poor Tom," the mayor says, "I hate he lost his store, but he kind of brought it on himself. At least our fine city is still safe and sound in the eyes of the public."

Honestly? I feel silly writing this, but I'm trying to make a serious point. This is how many Christian organizations treat victims of sexual and physical abuse. The abused, already broken and ashamed, finally muster the courage to come forward about their abuser, and are questioned about what they did to cause the abuse. What convoluted thinking! Further, one of the first things they are asked to do is forgive their abuser, and ask their abuser to forgive them. ARGH! Now, I agree that we must forgive our enemies and those that hurt us. I know that's an important part of the healing process. But it is rarely, if ever, the first part. Pushing for a major move like that early in the process compares to asking a gunshot victim to rummage their own wound for the bullet. 

The following comes from Rebecca Davis, a friend of mine who stands staunchly in support of abuse victims. She just posted this on her Facebook page as I sat to write this entry. In lieu of what I had planned to write, here is what Rebecca shared, followed by a link to her page so that you can read the comments and responses:

**I just received this from a survivor friend who asked to be kept anonymous. Please read and tag any friends who might be interested in having a better understanding. It's public, so anyone can read it.**

I want to share something through Rebecca to many of you who read her posts. I am one of the many who Rebecca speaks for when she posts about abuse that happened at BJU. She knows many of the details of my experiences and BJU’s response to it.

Many of the things that Rebecca posts, I experienced first hand. She has seen some of the written records of my experiences. I wonder sometimes, what it is that makes so many read her posts and turn away, either without commenting, or telling her that she should remain silent. I realize that many don't know very much personally and don't want to comment on something they have little understanding of, but there are some who believe these things shouldn't be stated. If Rebecca has seen evidence of what she is writing about, does that not qualify her to be free to speak? to be free to plead for understanding?

There are many of us reading her posts and wishing that we had the freedom to share our experiences ourselves and know that we are still welcome within the church community. I am one of those who has found that church is not really a safe place for survivors of abuse. While there are most definitely specific people and even leaders within some church communities who have shown me much kindness and compassion, the church--both locally based churches as well as the Church in general--just really doesn’t have a place for us; many in the churches want us to remain silent.

I know many of the people who reported to GRACE about their experiences at BJU. Most remain silent and most stay away from churches. I don’t know of many who are willing to openly discuss the abuses and responses at BJU. When I read your comments on Rebecca's posts, I feel very alone and know that “church” is not really a place for me, nor is it a place for other survivors, particularly for those whose offenders are well liked and admired by the Christian community.

Please understand that I think we should always speak wisely and with caution. Accusations should not be made lightly. Also, we are limited in ever truly understanding the motivation of those who did wrong. Many involved in all of this are “nice” people. Many are people who have done many good things in their lives. I am not arguing this. It doesn’t however, negate the fact that many have been deeply wounded by “nice” people who have sexually abused and/or raped them. Many have been deeply wounded by the counsel from “nice” people who caused further harm to the victims.

I realize that because many of us still live within the vicinity of BJU, there are many very strong emotions that are stirred when this topic comes up. Some people comment directly on Rebecca’s posts. Others comment elsewhere, in writing and/or in varied conversations with others. I have a few questions for you.

Many of you state that you don’t condone abuse, but you still often make statements that we should be silent until there is proof. Why is that? What kind of proof is needed? Why do so many find it wrong that we discuss our experiences and/or allow Rebecca to be a voice for some of us? Why do so many feel that we all need to remain silent until the GRACE report is completed? Is each of us supposed to remain alone until an outside agency verifies our experiences? In one of the most recent articles published, some victims spoke directly of their experiences. Documentation was included in the article that backs the victim’s claims and show at least some evidence of BJU’s response. Yet many still act as if it isn’t enough. Instead, the news agency who reported is questioned about their motivations in reporting. Why? Some have seen it as wrong for victims to speak to a secular news group. Why? If they are willing to take the time to verify the truthfulness of the claims, what makes it wrong for us to speak with them? Telling us that we should not speak to a “secular” reporting group feels very much like what we were taught at BJU, not to report our abuse to “secular” authorities, to let the “church” handle it. We see how well that worked. Offenders simply moved on to other victims, and abuse continued.

I have waited for a long time, mostly silently, for the GRACE report to come out. As the months have dragged on, I wonder if the GRACE report will even make a difference. The fact that GRACE became involved at BJU is miraculous, but what if they had never been hired? Would we all be accused of gossiping by telling our experiences without an agency to verify our claims? Is truth true only if GRACE validates it? If our stories can’t be heard now, then what changes simply because GRACE reports our experiences? If you aren’t willing to hear directly from the victims, why will you listen to GRACE? What will you do when the report comes out? Will you believe it? Will you shun the victims who reported? How will we all respond when there are people we care about on both sides, offenders who are loved, others who are loved who covered offenses and provided traumatizing and wrong counsel to victims, and the victims themselves, all within our community? How will we sort this out?

Consider this: what if I witnessed my child killed by a drunk driver in my front yard. What if I held my child, realizing that he is dead, saw the driver exit her car stumbling around in an obvious state of drunkenness, saw her car filled with bottles of alcohol partially emptied. Would I need to remain silent? Could I share my agony, confusion, and suffering with my church family or the community at large, or would I be told to remain silent because the autopsy has not yet been completed and the driver who has admitted to being drunk has not yet been sentenced in court? What if the drunk driver is declared incompetent to stand trial due to some extenuating circumstances? Does that make it any less true that she has killed my child and I am hurting? What if she is a respected leader in the community? Should I hide my pain to protect her? What if she is a Sunday school teacher, well loved within our own church family? Does that mean I must remain completely silent and alone in order to not add to her pain? What if I have forgiven her and have compassion for the struggle she is facing? Does that mean I can’t struggle and be open about my own pain as well?

I have heard many sermons about living in "community" and on being open and transparent about our struggles. Why is that okay ONLY when our struggles aren't connected to Christian leaders who abuse? What if one of us stood in front of your church and recounted our experiences? How hated would we be if doing so brings to light some things that many just don't want to know? Do you know the risk that so many of us took in reporting to GRACE? Do you realize that many of us who did so are right in your midst hearing and reading your responses? Do you understand why we can't go to church?   

Link to Rebecca's Post on Facebook 

Standing in support of the abused,
Teapotjan

Facebook Post from Rebecca Davis

The Face of "Abomination"

No matter what you believe about same sex attraction, and same sex marriage, listen to this young man's testimony, and see if you can still call homosexual desire an "abomination." We can all have our opinions, but perhaps, as Christians we should temper our words with compassion.

No one has ever been drawn to Christ by angry, hateful words, and attitude. But everyone who came to Christ ultimately came because of His love.

This young man is an SBC pastor's son. His struggle is obvious. His "abomination" is not.

This isn't about gay people parading around in the streets. This isn't about politics, and laws. This isn't about rainbows and unicorns and abominations. And it isn't about you. It's about souls spurning the Gospel because of hate filled Christians. It's about young Christians filled with self hate and loathing and having no where to go for help. It's about our real job: 

SERVE GOD, LOVE OTHERS

Prayers and blessings,

Teapotjan

I See You

You there. The victim of abuse. You, who finally scraped together enough courage to tell someone about what they did. How you felt. About your guilt and self-hate. Your bitterness toward that leader, that parent, that person who stood and watched and knew and said nothing. You, the disillusioned.

I saw the light of hope in your eyes when the "bastion" of your faith took what seemed a huge step toward your healing. I hoped with you. And I prayed. 

Then I saw. The headlines and the news. When I looked at you, I saw hurt, tears, pain, and fear. I cried with you. I felt sick.

And I heard you. You said that you weren't sure you could share your story again. Once was just shy of too much. I saw you. I saw the light of hope fade. Bless you. I see you.

And I pray. I pray that your stories will be heard, for your healing, and for the wisdom of those who hold the promise of hope in their meetings and words.

I know. I know that you hurt. I know that this is hard. But I also know that God is aware. 

He sees you.
He loves you.
And in spite of mistakes made by flawed people, 
He remains. Unchangeable. All Powerful. All Knowing.

See Him. He who created all, and sees each tear, and provides all peace. 

HE WILL DO WHAT IS RIGHT.

GRACE

The Angry, Prayerful Teapot

Lord, bless this post. I pray I don't make hasty judgements, and untrue statements. Be with those that hurt. May my words lift them up and glorify You. I stand by their needs and hope to 

Posts concerning abuse, GRACE, and Bob Jones University have flooded my Facebook wall, and their content has flooded my heart. When GRACE revealed that their investigation had been halted by officials at Bob Jones University just shy of the end of the process, I cried out in anger, sorrow, and disappointment. But before speaking, I waited to see what the University would do. But they haven't done anything but spin the whole matter, and that anger, sorrow, and disappointment still rage in my heart.

I don't know what GRACE has found. I know the names of only a few of the victims who spoke with them. But I know that as the news spread out across the internet, those victims were slapped in the face with the fact that a Christian institution valued protecting its own objectives over helping heal the pain of hurting individuals. 

That statement does not spring lightly from my lips. I loved the University at one point, and I appreciate the education I received there. I made great friends while attending and working there. Working in Public Safety, I saw people at their worst, and I was aware of some of the spin thought necessary to protect both the the University and the cause of Christ. When the GRACE investigation started I, like many, hailed it as a real changed in the thought process of the University administration. And perhaps it was. But as time passed, and the contents of the GRACE report loomed near, the old thought processes kicked in, and the excuses and spin began again. 

If those who make the decisions really cared about abuse victims, and did not fear what may be released, they would have informed the victims and the public in general of any problems BEFORE they fired GRACE. Doing otherwise, they have contributed to the climate of abuse as much, if not more, than if they had never started the investigation. I continue to feel this way even after reading all the links concerning ABWE, and many others. They responded badly-again. The University no longer has the luxury of releasing only the information they want. The information age is here, and when an institution fails to act in a forthright and transparent manner, it automatically brings suspicion down upon its own head.

This article came across my news feed this morning, and I feel that it covers the situation well. Please click The American Conservative to see the article.

If you want more information, message or email me, and I will send links to the sites with announcements from GRACE and BJU. The news has spread far, any many media outlets have taken up the story.

For those victims of abuse: I am praying for you. Be assured that in spite of the actions of flawed humans, the God who created all will do what is right and just. 

Disillusioned, but looking UP,
Teapotjan

That's Not Natural-The Torn Teapot, Part two

God is so very good. The response to my last post both blesses and humbles me. Please know that I desire to be a mere vessel used in whichever way He chooses. And pray with me that I can continue to point people to Him with no glory in myself. Any good I do or say comes from Him.

As promised, this entry contains a rather personal story concerning how I started on this particular phase of my journey. Reviewing the events of the last few months, and seeing how God brought me to this place. He set my feet on a path long ago, before I even knew, and He assures me that I must proceed with prayer, tears, and newly opened eyes.

I've taken several IQ and personality tests through the years. They have shown me that God made me, among other things, intelligent, empathetic, curious, and friendly. My personality type makes friends easily, but limits the number of close friends to a very small number. So, when I make a close friend, and when I really trust someone, they are stuck with me like an octopus trying to open an oyster. Through thick and thin, that's me and my friend. No matter what. No matter where. No matter.

A few months ago, I was messaging with one of those close friends. He is currently deployed in Afghanistan. This friend is like a son. Truly. I can't imagine caring for him more if he were actual family. He worked as my assistant. He helped me in more ways than I can count. He taught me things, and he edified me. We cried together. We prayed together. We pointed each other to Christ. He encompassed what a life long friend should be. My family loves him as well, and he knows that he is always welcome at any time, day or night, to call, or come by, or eat, or whatever. He is incredibly special to me. 

I knew that he had struggled with some issues, but he rather cryptically brushed them aside, not wanting to burden me. I could only guess at what they were. But I prayed for him. At one rather dark point, he told me that he had contemplated suicide up to just shy of the actual act. He had not followed through because he had not wanted to disappoint or hurt me and the other few friends he held close. Whenever I think of that, I can't help but cry. It broke my heart. It still does. I don't like to think of how close he came. But as he just recently told me, it was the grace of God that stopped him.

A few months later he surprised me by signing up for the Army. Knowing him, I knew he would excel and become a great soldier, but my heart sank knowing

that it would pull him away. Of course, he sailed through boot camp, and found himself stationed in Texas. Some of the problems he had experienced before cropped up again, but this time I was aware that he was being harassed. He would not tell me why, but I knew he had contacted my husband, and that they had talked at great length. He had more than one battle to fight. And then, he was deployed.

We were able to see him before he left. The time was short, but precious. Of course, I cried when he left, that's part of this vessel's makeup as well. But,

we all claimed the promises that nothing happens to one of God's children that He does not allow and that no parting is eternal for us. Fortunately, we have been able to stay in contact due to the blessing of modern technology.

Most of our chats involved newsy type stuff. But some were like counseling sessions for both of us. Life in Afghanistan is rough. It's awful, and sandy, and wet, and dry, and hot, and cold, and loud, and too, too quiet. And there was more harassment. And then there was that one night before the holidays. . . he asked me if he could tell me something very important, and to promise that I would not be angry. My heart went up into my throat as I typed "of course." After a few more reassurances that nothing shy of him being a serial killer and even then we'd work it out, he typed "I'm gay." 

It wasn't like I hadn't suspected at least a tendency toward this in him, but it still hit my "raised in the deep south, independent-fundamental-baptist steeped" soul a little hard. He went on to say that he hadn't wanted to tell me,

because he thought he might lose our friendship. Those words struck through me like an arrow. This amazing, talented, young man whom I love like my own son thought he would lose me because he found himself attracted to his own gender. What could I say to that?

Then the story of why he had been harassed poured out. His typed words came through almost quicker that my tear-blurred eyes could read. His family was shocked. Some of his fellow soldiers, and even some of his leaders had mocked him and would not march or work with him. He had to file harassment charges and transfer to another company while in Texas. And yet, he still strived to be the best army soldier possible and was very close to succeeding. He did not want this to bring any shame to Christ.

And then finally, as if this were not enough, he told me "If there was a pill I could take to change this attraction, I would take a hundred every day. No one would choose this. It's awful, but it is who I am." And that is when God changed my heart, and opened my eyes. I knew I could assure him that I still truly loved him, and that a new part of my journey from guilt to grace had started. I saw those dealing with homosexuality in a new way, not through the eyes of a condemning church, but through the eyes of a loving and gentle Christ.

That suicide crisis before he joined the army? At that point he could not reconcile what he felt and what he had been taught all of his life. If same gender attraction was a sin no matter if acted on it or not, then he had been created imperfect and flawed with no hope of Heaven, and no hope of love, and no hope of acceptance in his family, or most of his friends. He saw himself as the bane of Christianity, and he lost sight of what God could do, because at that point the only God he could see was the one who condemned him. He could see only the God portrayed in many churches. The one that condemned homosexuality above all other sins and destroyed entire cities due to their homosexual population. And no matter how hard he prayed, and no matter how many counselors he saw, he still felt attracted to men.

We continued to chat for a while longer. I assured him of my prayers, and my continued love and friendship. And because life moves on, he had duties to attend to, and I needed to . . . explode.  I was drained, and tearful, and I needed someone to listen. So, I messaged another one of my very close friends. Through the years, this friend had brought me closer to the Lord than years of Christian education and church attendance had ever done. This person challenged me daily to press toward the high mark of serving Christ. This person scolded me when I needed it, and prayed for me. This person could not be a better friend. And when I revealed my other friend was gay, this person said they understood completely because they had walked the same path their entire life. 

In my next post, I'll finish this story. Pray with me that we seek His face in prayer concerning what we are to do to help and be help by those Christians who deal with homosexuality.

One step closer to full Grace and Glory,

Teapotjan

That's Not Natural -The Torn Teapot, Part one

For Ryan, and those like him

who received rejection, instead of love.

justbecausehebreathes.com.

Update, April 21, 2015: Since I wrote this, I have met Matthew Vines, and heard him speak with a loving heart, and a mindful knowledge of the Bible. Please take the time to read his testimony. Matthew Vines

The subject of this post has laid heavy on my heart and soul for the past few months. I have spent time pouring through Scripture, and devouring books, and visiting blogs, and asking questions, and praying, and praying, and praying. In spite of the fact that I will lose friends, and may be labeled with once of the worst traits in fundamentalism: compromiser, I must share my heart and burden concerning this touchy and divisive matter. I no longer live in Guilt. I have journeyed to Grace.

A while back, the patriarch of Duck Dynasty revealed his personal views concerning homosexuality. I was already embroiled in my study of this issue when that whole media brouhaha erupted, and was tempted to write this post at that point. But after prayerful consideration, I waited. This is not a response to the media storm. This is a very personal, close-to-my-heart, issue that I have been dealing with up close, and I don't want my opinion sullied by an overwrought media.

So, here goes. The biggie. My opinion based on my studies--Stay with me until the end of this series of blogs now-- Homosexuality, or as many call it, "same-sex attraction" is NOT a sin. It is no more a sin than a man being attracted to a woman, or a woman being attracted to a man. But, as with all sexual attractions, it is fraught with misconceptions, lustful attitudes, and questions not easy to answer. The human race, and in particular the modern church, hasn't figured out how to handle "normal" sexual attraction, and its aberrant avenues. No wonder we hem and haw and blame and point fingers, and shy away from those who are different from mainstream. That's natural human behavior. 

Problem is, Christians are not supposed to be "natural." We are to look at all people as precious souls created by God for His glory. But picking one sin that everyone "naturally" agrees is wrong and harping on it and resisting any hint of compromise is far easier than than looking inside ourselves and at others though Christ's eyes. That close examination takes time, and it usually reveals difficult and puzzling realities that make us uneasy and frightened. It is "natural" and easy to vilify that which we don't understand while ignoring the hurt and pain our vilification might cause to the soul behind the behavior we have labeled as sin.

No matter where they stand on this issue, Christians, and the church in general, must change their attitude toward those dealing with same sex attraction. We have too many young people with too many questions, and too much guilt, and too few answers from Godly, spiritual leaders. Suicidal thoughts and actual suicides pose a real threat to these young people. So, at this point, whether we believe homosexuality is a sin or not, we need to address those that hurt with love. I'll address this point more in another post.

In the next entry, I will share how I started on this particular section of my journey to grace. It is a personal story involving someone very close. God used his experience to lead me to my current conclusions, and to burden me for a new phase of ministry. Pray with me for wisdom. Look to Christ.Serve God and love others,

Teapotjan