Category: Childhood

2019, Calvary Gospel Church, Childhood, Compassion, Justice, Support, Survivors, United Pentecostal Church

2019

Deb M

December is often a month of reflection. Some folks start to think about New Year’s resolutions and some of us just try to get through to the next year. 2019 was full of highs and lows and now that we are almost at the end of it I’m looking back.

This year has been a year of reunions. The CGC survivor group became a reality. We found each other and found strength in each other’s stories of resiliency. We comforted each other, listened when we needed to vent, and laughed at silly memories from childhood. I am grateful for this little island of hope and support. Who knew that from all of the pain we suffered would come this group so full of love and friendship for each other. Calvary Gospel taught us pain but we cultivated love, where there was shame now there is acceptance and mercy. For those CGC survivors reading this I feel so blessed to have you in my life. Thank you for walking this journey with me.

Over the summer I was able to do so many things I never thought possible. I spoke to the media and spoke at a press conference about my experiences. I allowed myself to bloom instead of keeping myself small and allowing the shame of what happened to me keep me quiet. I allowed my truth to be told in a very full-throated way, unfettered by worry about what CGC might think or do. This was a very liberating and healing experience. I learned that when you share your story you might get some blowback but more than that you open the door for people to support you.

I was on a podcast! It was amazing! I am a podcast junkie and so this was a really big deal for me. Again all I found was support and understanding. I realize I keep using the word support over and over but it is the best word for what I have experienced over 2019. My network has grown so much and put me into contact with so many wonderful people. Ronna Russell has helped me keep my dream of writing a book alive and stoked the fire when it was growing dim. Thank you Ronna.

I have no idea what 2020 will hold but I have a feeling it is going to be a big year. I intend to keep fighting. I want to see the Mandatory Reporter bills pass here in Wisconsin. I also want to continue to tell my story both here and as I attempt to get a book on paper. Is there a podcast coming? Maybe…Who knows? I’m keeping all options on the table that don’t involve quitting.

I hope 2019 has been good to you and I hope 2020 brings you much happiness!

Debbie

Calvary Gospel Church, Childhood, Sexual Abuse, United Pentecostal Church

Becky’s Story Continues

Deb M
This is a continuation of Becky’s story in her own words…
I’m not sure how to start this, so I’m going to just jump in and hope it comes together. It’s like being at an intersection with a million crossroads and trying to pick the best route.
After my first blog piece, I’ve had so many people ask “what’s next”, and “then what happened”, so I will try to answer some of them. It’s impossible to do fully since I can only pick one direction at a time, but eventually, I might travel all of them.
Since I (and many other fellow women) went public with our stories, I have been pleasantly surprised at the outpouring of support I’ve received. Cards, letters, facebook messages – from friends, fellow survivors, and complete strangers – telling me their own stories, offering support, or saying “thank you”. We were all warned by the newspaper staff to brace ourselves after releasing our stories for negative comments, as social media and whatnot can be vicious. I am happy to report that I did not receive one negative comment from the general public. Not surprising, the only negative and derogatory comments came from members of the church we were speaking about. Anyhow, a big thank you to all of you that showed your support and encouragement. I know many have expressed hesitancy at saying anything, as they don’t know whether we want to talk about it, but please know that it’s always ok.
Some have asked why the Capital Times article didn’t address certain topics, so I will try to clarify some.  First, there is a limit on the word count. A story like this has many facets, and not all can be addressed in 5000 words. Second, we were tying our stories in with the current bill in discussion regarding clergy being mandated reporters, so our stories were focused mostly on that aspect. Yes, there are/were many other aspects we would have loved to add, but it would take a book to discuss it all.
Moving on to more of my personal story – first, I would like to discuss the fear that was taught/ingrained in us as children in UPC. From early ages on, we were taught that if we didn’t strictly follow UPC’s definitions of biblical “salvation”, we would be damned to hell. We would burn in a lake of fire forever. We were told that there was a worse place in hell for those who had “heard the truth and walked away”. So that obviously put us in the “worse place”. Not sure how eternal fire could be worse, but apparently UPC found it. These rules, and not remotely an extensive list here, were that women were to be unquestionably submissive to the men, women could only wear long skirts/dresses, no makeup, absolutely no cutting/trimming of their hair, no jewelry, no public swimming, no movies, tv in homes was also taboo, we had to pay a minimum of 10% of all our income to the church (with your name on the envelope so if you weren’t giving they would know), and attendance to 3 services a week plus prayer meetings, etc. Public education was frowned on, so most ended up in the church-based school. Alcohol was a complete sin, to the point that some members would no go to restaurants if they served alcohol, or use food extracts because of the alcohol content. One woman I knew wouldn’t use conditioner in her hair because it had a type of alcohol in it. So between no alcohol and the strict dress code, it made most sports off limits too. Here’s a dumb example – in the church school, if the girls wanted to go play outside in the winter, we had to put skirts on OVER our snow pants. Apparently snow pants could show our curves (my eyes have rolled back so far in my head they may never come back out).
Back to the hell part – we were told that if we missed the rapture because we had sinned, then IF we survived the next few years of the apocalypse, we still had a slight chance to make it to heaven if we became martyrs for christ and had our heads chopped off. I was 9 years old when they showed us a movie about people getting their heads chopped off, and all sorts of human torture while turning off the lights to scare us even more. Even as a child, I knew I would never be perfect enough to be “saved”, so I knew my head would have to be chopped off to avoid burning forever. I know now how terribly psychologically abusive that is, especially to young developing minds. I look back now and can identify many times that I was having panic attacks as a child. I lived in terror and fear. Not just of hell, but of getting in trouble with the adults around me for not living up to the church’s rules. I was “rebellious” once and wore clear nail polish – I was given detention at school and then pulled out and slapped for it – let me say that again – I wore CLEAR NAIL POLISH, was slapped and made to repent of my sin and my “jezebel spirit”. Between school, 3 services a week, prayer meetings and youth group, I literally spent most of my childhood in that building.
Here’s something I have rarely spoken of, because for some reason it is really tough for me – but as a child, I would envision the devil and demons flying around my bed at night, just waiting for me to sin. Everything in UPC is considered a “spiritual battle” and they feel the devil is always lurking to trip them up. I would hide under my blankets and beg god to forgive me for anything I could’ve possibly done wrong. I started some self-harm techniques, long before I knew that’s what it was, and long before I could identify that was what I was doing – I would scratch myself until I bled, or pull out all my eyelashes and eyebrows – in an attempt to ease the torment in my mind.
I had no one to reassure me, to calm me, or to tell me it was going to be ok. Every person I knew was UPC, and every adult around me was UPC, and those adults enforced every rule.
Oddly, sexuality was a huge focus in UPC. Women were subservient but had to be excessively cautious about not being attractive, lest they cause the men around them to lust and sin. It was always the fault of the woman – they showed too much leg, too much arm, etc. If you were lucky enough to be naturally attractive, you were criticized and told you had the “spirit of sexuality”. Hence all the dress codes were on the women. But in their teachings, and the constant focus, they were doing much the opposite – they were keeping sexuality at the forefront of their religion. I sat through a youth class where the minister told us where men like to be touched, and what turns them on so that we wouldn’t do it. Talk about backward. Of course, it was abstinence-only. But in the background, where everyone knew but wouldn’t talk about, was a massive problem. I think because sex was such a forefront issue, and because you were only allowed to marry other UPC-ers, couples were often getting married extremely young and the only compatibility goal was your mate be UPC too. So little to no thought was placed on if you were a good match, or of life goals, personalities, etc, just be another UPC-er and god will take care of the rest. So affairs, sexual crimes, porn addictions, and unprotected sex was rampant. It was as if most everyone knew – I mean come on, I was a child and could see it, there’s no excuse for the adults not seeing it too – but no one talked about it or addressed it. No one would open that can of worms. Just as I sit typing this I can think of 7 examples of older men dating underage girls, just from my age group and circle of friends. I’m sure if I actually sat and counted, that number would be much higher. And by younger girls, I’m referring to girls in middle and high school. This was no secret, and so common in that community that no one even thought it weird. Those that did had enough sense to leave UPC, so the adults that were left were the ones too ingrained in the religion to think for themselves. I have often explained it as adults, parents would join UPC, and completely turn their children over to the church. They assumed the church was a good place, a safe place, and so they went against every parental instinct and just allowed whatever or whomever to now be in control of their children. Consequently, this mentality created a spectacular place for every predator imaginable. They could join this subset of society, do anything they wanted as long as they obeyed the outward rules of UPC, participate in services enough to be considered “godly” or ‘ministers’, and do anything they wanted and get away with it. No one would ever tell on them, because they already knew their religious group wasn’t looked on favorably by “normal” society, so they dealt with everything internally in order to avoid the public eye.
Not only was I preyed on by my perpetrator, who I previously referred to as “Ben”, but inappropriate behavior was common. On my wedding day, I was carried out by one of “Ben’s” friends, while they did the kidnap-the-bride thing, and his friend stuck his hand up my wedding dress and held onto my lady bits (sorry, oddly enough I feel weird saying “genitals”). I squirmed and tried to move, and asked him to stop, but he just kept it up and laughed at me. I couldn’t get away from him as he was carrying me, and he thought it was funny. It wasn’t until all this came up that I have even told that story. I realize now that this guy was so bold that he sexually assaulted his buddy’s wife on their wedding day. But even then I knew no one would believe me or care if I did tell. I have since learned that this same man had previously assaulted two other women, and he was actually made to apologize to the congregation for one assault, but he was still allowed to be a minister there.
What strikes me is how I had been taught and treated to think I had no boundaries, or no voice, in that arena – how UPC had sucked the very life out of me. I didn’t choose to grow up UPC – I was a child, and at the mercy of the adults around me – my parents, my teachers, my friends – were all UPC. The psychological and emotional abuse had irrevocably altered my development. I grew up in fear and suppression, completely vulnerable and completely hopeless, in an environment that preyed on the weak.
I need to wrap this up. I have a soft spot in my heart for children now. I wish every child could feel love, acceptance, and support, and to feel free and uninhibited to follow their dreams and be the person they want to be. I wish for every child to have a good meal in their belly and be in a safe place.
If anything ever comes of this, I will know that I fought for the child I was once was. I have grown up now, and have promised myself to never be that willingly vulnerable again. I can see myself as that young child, and I will be what she once needed, and somehow, hopefully someday, bring her some justice and healing.
Calvary Gospel Church, Childhood, Rapture, Salvation, Sexual Abuse, Shame, Stress, Trauma, United Pentecostal Church

Set Point Stress

Deb M
Maverick and I going for a walk in the snow. This is one of the things that helps me cope with stress, especially in the winter.

I have been spending a lot of time thinking and not writing. There comes a point when you have expressed all of the surface junk and everything underneath seems so much harder to put into words. I am at a point in my life, 49 years old when things are not moving as fast for me as they were when my kids were little. I have a bit more time to breathe and time to reflect on things that I want to unravel. One of these things is stress.

I cannot remember a time in my life when I wasn’t stressed. Stressed about my parent’s marriage, school, money, food, church, and god. Some might say that stress is a normal part of life and I agree with that to a point. Being stressed shouldn’t be your set point and for all of my life, it has been my normal. My first teacher about stress was my mother. She was always stressed and for good reason. Money was tight, her jobs were stress-inducing, her marriage was a disaster, and she was always afraid of missing the rapture. Along with that came other things like untreated Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. She and my dad were always overly concerned about being late and so they created a child who is always early and never not stressed about time. Before we could leave the house my mother would have to check all of the nobs on the stove to be sure they were turned off and then check the door multiple times to be sure it was locked. Sometimes she would have to tour the rooms of the house to be sure all of the lights were off. She taught me to always check the backseat of the car for a masher even if all of the doors had been locked while we were away because…you never know. You never know became a big part of my life.

My experiences with the church and the UPC specifically only added to my stress response. I never felt good enough and always worried about my salvation and along with that came all of the end-time theology. The church was well acquainted with “You never know” and so they reinforced that message. You never know the day or the hour when Jesus might return. You never know you might have some unrepented sin hiding in there. You never know what book, movie or music might be a doorway for Satan to get into your heart. All of this made me one stressed-out kid and that in turn led me to be a stressed-out adult.

As you probably know we lay down these patterns as kids. Our brains and nervous systems are being formed and habits are laid down before we can even comprehend what is happening to us. So even after becoming an adult and being in a place of being able to make my own choices about what I believe my default is to be stressed. It’s funny how and when things hit us, it just hit me today that I’ve always been this way to the point of having ulcers when I was in grade school. I have always had what my grandmother would call a “nervous temperament.” So some of it is a natural disposition and a lot of it is learned. The whole time I was growing up and surrounded by religious adults I never felt the peace of god or grace. I felt like my mother, teachers, youth leaders, and others were always wagging their fingers at me saying be careful. Starting really young, “Oh be careful little eyes what you see, for the father up above is looking down with love.” Hmmm kind of a weird song, be careful because he is watching but “with love.” I learned the hard way after my interactions with Steve Dahl that I couldn’t trust myself or my body. My body could really get me into trouble simply by existing. This caused enormous stress and made me wish I could disappear. I started to feel like all men could be dangerous, also stress-inducing because well half the population were men. Along with checking the backseat, my mother would check closets and under the bed when we returned home from being out. She was checking for those dangerous men.

So what do you do when you realize your default is stress? One thing that brings me some relief is moving my body. I like to hike, go for dog walks, get to the gym, and do yoga. I enjoy dancing when I get the chance! I try to remind myself to breathe and I enjoy a hot bath from time to time. These are all coping mechanisms, what I am seeking to do is move my set point and that is not an easy task. There was a time when this would have been an impossible task. Before I started to give voice to my trauma and really deal with it I couldn’t have even approached this work but now I feel like maybe I can start. I am going to begin the process by just trying to move the needle a little bit. Rome wasn’t built in a day and so I’m going to try not to stress myself about stress. One simple thing I’ve been doing is trying to change my self-talk. When I get up in the morning instead of thinking, “I have to do all of this stuff today”, I try to say “I get to do all of this stuff today.” I remind myself that so much of my stress is self-generated and that I can cut myself some slack. I will probably post about this more after I have been working on it longer.

Does my experience sound like yours?

D

Calvary Gospel Church, Childhood, Devil

Halloween

Deb M

Halloween is my favorite holiday. This probably comes from how much I enjoyed it as a child. My mother was a candy hound and liked going out to get treats almost more than I did. My mother was very conservative but never saw Halloween as anything more than good clean fun. I’m sure my grandparents didn’t approve but they lived too far away for it to be a problem. Mom could be counted on to take me out even if it was very cold and near blizzard conditions. This was back in the ’70s when everything was made out of plastic and the masks would stick to your face once you started to sweat. We often didn’t have money to buy me a costume and we would be out shopping at the last minute trying to find something in the right size. I was a good-natured kid and could be happy with almost anything. My favorite costume memory is from the year I was “Police Woman”. This costume was modeled after a popular 70’s show featuring Angie Dickenson. After we were done my mom and I would go through all my candy. I would give her whatever I didn’t like and we would enjoy a few pieces. If I was lucky “It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown” would be on TV and everything would be right in the world.

We had these wonderful decorations for the windows. They are coming back into style now. I was at World Cost Market the other day and saw they had replicas of the ones my mother used. We had witches, black cats, bats, and all the usual fare. It was innocent and a bright spot in a sad childhood.

When I was a kid I was never a fan of the really scary movies and didn’t come to embrace them until I was an older teenager. The church was always talking about the ways in which the devil could trick you and lead you straight to hell. This was more than enough scary for me! There was a time when the church would hold parties around Halloween. These parties involved going to church in some sort of Bible character costume and I avoided these gatherings like the plague. If I wasn’t going out to get candy (because I was too old) then I wanted to dress up and give it out to the little people coming to the door. It was one of the only times I felt like we were normal. We were participating in a community event and a part of things instead of being on the outside looking in.

When I think about it I rarely ever heard people talking about the devil, Satan, demons and the like outside of the church. The church acted like the devil was some kind of boogie man who would jump out at you from the movie screen or record you were listening to. He could be found roaming your thoughts and wanted nothing more than to pollute your soul and make you one of his. They believed that if you listened to music about the devil like the Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil”, you would instantly be inhabited by a demon. They warned us about how reading the wrong books would open a doorway to hell. Really they seemed very fixated on Satan and demons, much more so than the rest of the world I encountered.

There is a point to all this I promise, let me use this as an example. The church focused on sexuality and talked to children about it too much and the adults seemed to always be thinking about sex. To be honest they seemed to have their minds in the gutter, always expecting the worst. Within the congregation of CGC so much inappropriate sexual activity went on and some of it was criminal. I have to wonder if these things would have happened if the church did not have the attitudes about sex that it has. Where every little thing is sexualized and made unclean and evil. I wonder if they made Halloween, metal music, scary books and movies more enticing and interesting to certain young people because they railed against it and at the same time talked about the devil like he was a real entity that might try to get you. I feel they introduced some of the demonic stuff they were telling us was so wrong and so real just by talking about it so much. Was it the world that had been turned over to Satan because the world did not seem as impressed by him as my church was?! CGC really brought all the scary things into my life during my childhood. I think if I had been raised like a normal kid I might have encountered those things as I grew up and it was an appropriate time to be exposed. My children were only able to watch scary shows and movies as they were mature enough to handle the material. I was the mean mom that said no to certain things I didn’t feel my kids were ready for. They never knew the terror of being raised with a devil around every corner, you have to attend church to get that kind of horror.

 

Childhood, Compassion, Family, Forgiveness, Holiness Standards, Leadership, Parents, Poverty, Self Esteem, Sexual Abuse, Shame, Trauma, Uncategorized, United Pentecostal Church

You Are Worthy

Deb M

Today I want to tell you that you are worthy. If you were sexually abused as a child you are worthy. You did not draw that older man into sin. He made his choices and he was an adult. You were a child and children cannot consent. I am so sorry if the church did not protect you, love you, and help you to heal. You deserve love, support, and an apology. I am still stunned at Calvary Gospel’s silence. I am experiencing them as no more loving now than they were when I was a child.

You are worthy even if your family did not dress right, or if you are brown or black, and even if your family did not tithe enough. A child shouldn’t have to pay for their parent’s choices. None of us can control the color of our skin or the family we are born into. We certainly could not have controlled our parent’s actions.

You are worthy even if you made mistakes, snuck into the movies, or listened to top 40 radio when your parents were out. These things are not sins, they are a normal part of growing up. No one perfectly listens to the adults in their life. Normal human development dictates that teens challenge adults, it is how we grow and become independent.

You are worthy if you wore a slit in your skirt, asked too many questions, or got bored in church. If you kissed a boy behind the church camp auditorium when you were supposed to be inside, if you faked being sick to stay home from church, and even if you faked speaking in tongues because you were afraid to disappoint your parents.

I see you trying to pretend that you are ok, trying to heal, trying to deal with the coldness coming from the people who raised us. I see you dealing with trauma, being the family outcast, never being 100% sure if you made the right decision when you left the church. I see you wondering if you should have kept your mouth shut about it all.

I understand not being educated properly and how that stays with you all your life. I understand playing small, staying invisible, always waiting for something bad to happen. I understand feeling weird in the world like you can never quite fit in. I understand the world not understanding where we come from and how exhausting it can be to try to explain.

For the men out there I see you too. Struggling to come to terms with what has happened to the women you grew up with, ministered to, your sisters and friends. I see you having many of the same struggles as I have only different at the same time. I know that there are survivors among you and when you are ready to tell your story we will be there for you as you have been there for us.

Consider this my love letter to all the survivors out there no matter what your damage is. You are worthy. Please don’t let those who refuse to ask for forgiveness, who refuse to take responsibility, and who choose to stand in judgment rather than lend aid define you. I see you as strong, brave, and overcomers. We have overcome the lack of love, support, grace, and normal human kindness we should have received as kids. We have found each other and created a life raft for one another and any new survivors who choose to join us. You are good even if you are not perfect. You are worthy.

 

Childhood, Crime, Forgiveness, Leadership, Parents, Pastor John Grant, United Pentecostal Church

What About The Parents

Deb M
Mom and I

As things have unfolded many people have asked me about my parents and their role in all of this. I have covered this at length here in my blog. Feel free to go back through the archives and you will see I do not let my parents off the hook. Some have said that the parents should be prosecuted for not reporting. My parents are no longer with us. I feel one thing that is missing in the discussion about parents is an understanding of how Calvary Gospel works.

I tell my truth here in MY blog. I believe that the UPC and Calvary Gospel are a cult. In Madison, the church revolves around John Grant and a cult of personality. He may be a bishop now and not the senior pastor but that doesn’t mean that his shadow doesn’t loom large. Everyone within the church is expected to follow him and “question not God’s anointed.” Parents often let the pastor make decisions that really should be made by parents. If the pastor says do not report to the police they will most likely do what he says. I’m not saying they are off the hook, but I am saying many of them are brainwashed. I would ask for the same understanding of these people as you would extend to any cult victim. I know that pastor Grant told one set of parents to let him worry about reporting and the perpetrator. He instructed them to go home and take care of their daughter. They took this to mean things were being taken care of.

There is a strong message of not bringing the police into the church. This is for many reasons, one is because it could bring scandal and shame onto the church. It might keep new folks from coming in and getting saved. This message is sent to both victims and their parents. You also have to understand that these people believe God will handle it all. God will forgive, the victim will forgive, her parents will forgive, and then it will all go away. Meanwhile, the young person who has been victimized is left to twist in the wind. Their feet having been set on a path of trauma and burden. They suffer the trauma of what has happened to them for the rest of their life and along with that so much more. The burden of not talking about things is big, move on and forgive no matter the cost. If you can’t do that (guess what most can’t) then the problem is with you. You haven’t truly forgiven, you’re not trusting God enough, God would heal you if you’d just figure out the formula and get over it.

Parents have often gone to the pastor for help. “Please keep this creep away from my daughter” they cry! They might inquire as to why 30+-year-old men hang out with the youth group. Often they are labeled trouble makers and dismissed and ignored. Here is where the real struggle is…they are taught that the UPC is the only place you can go to be saved. Calvary Gospel is the place or another oneness church. No one else has the truth. So they feel they must keep attending and bringing their babies to the church. So what do you do? If we don’t go to church there our babies won’t be saved, if we do go to church there the creepy guy is going to keep trying to groom our daughter. Plus the pastor seems to think we are nuts or overreacting. They are taught that the church is a godly place, a safe place and that the pastor is head over it all. This is why he is responsible. You can’t say “question not God’s anointed” and expect people to trust and obey their pastor when he makes good choices and then not also apply this when he makes wrong decisions.

In the end, the whole thing is about control and image. Children are sacrificed so that the church can continue to look superior. John Grant is crying about his reputation. His reputation is more important to him than the lives of so many who have been hurt by his decisions and leadership. Hell and damnation hang in the balance for these parents. They have been taught that if you go against your pastor or take your family out of the church you will go to hell. A literal hell burning you forever and ever hell. You might miss the rapture and your children might have to be beheaded to gain entrance into heaven. Many of these parents make the best choices they can and they now fully admit the choices were wrong and they were misled. Other parents see what is happening and allow it to happen because honestly, that is the church culture. You see it everywhere! Older guys and younger women. Because you cannot date outside the church some parents are just glad their daughter is being pursued by a “godly man.” Many parents would never expect that these men are trying to have sex with their daughters. Sex outside of marriage is forbidden. Plus the pastor sees all of this and says nothing. No one ever tells the men to stop, so it seems as if he condones the behavior and since he is like a god it leaves people confused.

Some of the men prey on kids like me who had sick parents. My mom sent me to church believing I would be safe and that anyone who attended could be trusted because they were God’s people. She trusted pastor Grant. I went to my pastor and not my mother because he was the highest authority I could go to. My mother had no control over Steve but pastor Grant did. Pastor Grant was the biggest man I knew, the highest figure in my life besides God. As a little girl I went to the man I thought had God’s ear and I told him my troubles. Sure my mother should have done more, but this doesn’t mean that pastor Grant has no responsibility. I spent more time at church than I did at home. Not a single person, pastor Grant or church member ever checked in on me. No one prayed with me or asked me if I needed a friend or support. Wouldn’t you think he would have directed people to take care of me knowing what he knew? Instead, I held all my truth inside and it crippled me.

I hope this helps folks to understand. As I stated previously please go back and read some of my other posts.

D

 

 

Book, Childhood, Family, Rapture, Trauma, United Pentecostal Church

The Uncomfortable Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid

Deb M

Yesterday I finally finished Ronna Russell’s memoir! I posted a review on Goodreads.

“This book was not an easy read. I grew up in a UPC church as well and at times it all hits too close to home. The author is so brave in her telling of her story! This is a wonderful read for anyone who is interested in learning more about the Christian denominations that exist on the fringe. The author’s vulnerability allows us into a world that many people never see filled with rapture anxiety, purity culture, and the pressure to be good enough. Beyond the church and the damage, it caused is a story of hope, self-acceptance, and self-love. She touches on religion, family, love, lost love, and finding and accepting oneself. I’m grateful she shared her happy ending because it gives hope to all of us raised in that atmosphere. I can’t wait to read what she writes next!”

 

I love memoir’s and this one is even more special because I can relate to it so strongly. It is not often that I have the opportunity to read about another woman’s experience within the UPC. When I talk with other survivors their stories always share common threads. For many, the fear of the rapture and hell is very real and then there is the sense of never measuring up. Normal sexual milestones tend to be suppressed and twisted leaving women feeling wrong and dirty. Secrets are everywhere and there is a knowing that comes with that. They are only secrets because they are not openly expressed but that is not the same as no one knowing or suspecting.

Ronna’s story isn’t just about the bad times it is also about hope, determination, and self-discovery. I owe her a special thanks because she has been an encouragement to me with my own writing. Women supporting women!

D

Childhood, Depression, Fear, Justice, Sexual Abuse, United Pentecostal Church

The Walking Wounded

Deb M

I am one of the walking wounded. I have been attempting to write a book. Even though the process of writing can at times make me feel all alone I know that there are so many others like me. I just finished listening to the NPR podcast “Believed.” This podcast covers the story of Larry Nassar and his many victims. Although their story takes place in the world of competitive gymnastics there are so many similarities. Last week was an awful week for me. I battled my demons daily as I continued to write and try to unwind the story of my childhood. ITunes helpfully suggested this podcast to me and I’m so glad I took a chance on it. Now if you are like so many people in my life you might ask why would I put myself through that? Well because listening to other victims tell their story makes me feel less alone and strange in the world. The podcast was hard to listen to. I could relate to many of the women and their experiences. They inspired me to keep going and their journey gave me hope that maybe my story can have a better ending than it has had so far.

My friends and family worry about me. People tell me to take breaks and to take care of myself. They worry that telling this story might hurt me more than it helps me. I’m grateful for everyone in my life who has reached out to check in and give me advice. The thing is I cannot quit. I carried this trauma inside me for decades and now is the time to give it a voice. I cannot sit back and do nothing when I know that young people are continuing to be abused in the church I grew up in and others like it. My abuser is still out there doing god knows what. This isn’t about revenge but about justice. Justice for myself and all of the others like me.

Right now I will speak anywhere I am asked to speak and share my story anywhere I can get a platform. I am afraid because I don’t know if I have the skills to make my book a reality and I know for a fact that I am not a public speaker but the time for fear is over. Fear can be really hard to let go of, especially when you are raised on fear and it is what you know best. When you are told to keep yourself small and to go unnoticed it can be hard to step into the sunshine. So I keep going. I do it for myself and all of the survivors of Calvary Gospel and the UPC organization. Most importantly I do it for her…

Age 11

D

Childhood, Confusing, Fear, Shame, United Pentecostal Church

Listening To That Inner Voice

Deb M

During the process of writing about my childhood I’m finding more questions than answers. Opening the door to my past has caused me to remember things I have not thought about for a long time. Many of these events seemed weird at the time and now through my adult eyes they seem inappropriate. As these memories bubble up into the now I have asked people if they remember and if it all seems odd to them as well. In a recent conversation a friend and I discussed how we remember two things from our childhood growing up in the church, fear and sex.

For the lips of a strange woman drop as a honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil. Proverbs 5:3

I started attending Calvary Christian Academy when I was 11 years old and in the 6th grade. We started attending the church when I was about 8. I was excited about starting a new school and finally being a part of the in-group. The principal at that point was Brother Rutherford. He seemed nice enough but had some strange quirks about him. Every morning we would read a passage together as a group. The goal was to memorize the verses and be able to repeat them back by the end of the month. If you wanted any extra freedoms or honor roll you had to have those verses memorized and signed off on. The thing is the verses we studied seem really strange when I look back on them now. The Bible is a long book and full of topics to focus on so why these verses were chosen is beyond me.

Drink waters out of thine own cistern, and running waters out of thine own well.

Let thy fountains be dispersed abroad, and rivers of waters in the streets.

Let them be only thine own, and not strangers’ with thee.

Let thy fountain be blessed: and rejoice with the wife of thy youth. Proverbs 5:15-18

Every morning we would stand and say the pledge and then read our verses. We read them as a mixed group out loud. I can remember being pretty embarrassed to read these things in front of the boys. It did not help that the older boys would tell bawdy jokes about them and snicker and laugh at my discomfort.

Let her be as the loving hind and pleasant roe; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; and be thou ravished always with her love.

And why wilt thou, my son, be ravished with a strange woman, and embrace the bosom of a stranger? Proverbs 5:19-20

I have to ask if the men working in the school got some kind of perverse pleasure from watching teen girls recite these verses both as a group and then one on one. When we reached the end of the month either our supervisor Roy Grant or Brother Rutherford would come to our little office and listen to us recite the verses back to them. I can remember being really uncomfortable. I was very good at memorization so that wasn’t the issue, it was all of those breasts and lips.

O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised.

I would lead thee, and bring thee into my mother’s house, who would instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine of the juice of my pomegranate. Song of Solomon 8:1-2

We would have a sort of chapel time and Brother Rutherford or Roy Grant would preach a mini sermon or teach a lesson. Often the subject matter would have something to do with the verses we were working on. So it isn’t that the verses were not explained, they were but I still have to ask, why was this something I needed to read/know at age 11? Why so much focus on cheating spouses and sexual love? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial for us to be studying the fruits of the spirit or maybe the sermon on the mount?

We have a little sister, and she hath no breasts: what shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?

If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver: and if she be a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar.

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favour. Song of Solomon 8: 8-10

I have turned this over in my head time and again and I just don’t get it. Why all the verses about breasts? Of all of the topics available why this kind of thing over and over? If there is one thing I have learned in my life it is that where there is smoke there is fire. If it makes you feel uncomfortable there is a reason for that and you should listen to that inner voice. I do not know who picked those verses. It could have been Brother Rutherford or Pastor Grant but either way I think it was inappropriate. I could understand if we were older like 17 or so or if it was a class for people about to be married.

A side note, we always read from the KJV and we were taught that the Proverbs verses were about staying faithful to ones wife, and the Song of Solomon verses were about marital love. Imagine my surprise when I found that some view the Song of Solomon verses to be about Christ. That is not how it was taught to us.

Brother Rutherford and his family eventually left and I think they moved back to Texas. I do not remember why but I do remember that it seemed kind of sudden and fast. After that we had a new principal and the verses changed to more normal content.

You might ask why I am writing this entry, it is because as I try to figure out the past these things come to mind and then I can’t get them out of my mind. I comb over them over and over again trying to make sense of it all. Why did they focus so much on sexual topics? Why the pervy undertones? They had to have known that a young girl would feel uncomfortable reading those verses out loud, especially given how sheltered we were. If anyone remembers the Rutherfords and knows why they left I would love to know.

 

C-PTSD, Childhood, Sexual Abuse, United Pentecostal Church

I Have Been Away

Deb M

I have been away from this blog for a little bit. Truth be told I think I needed to take a break from thinking about it all for a while. I have been working hard on political activism all spring and summer, pouring all of my energy into making the world a better place. I really try to keep politics out of this blog because I do not want to alienate any survivors who might find help here. That being said I am also devoted to honesty and telling my story from that place and current events definitely have affected that.

Art Heals

All of my social media is awash in Kavanaugh coverage. Because of the volunteer work that I do within my community, I am on social media a lot. I connect with others online about actions, events, and the news. When I’m away from it for even one day I feel like when I return I have all of these fires to put out and folks to support. This summer has required me to give all the emotional support I can both to those I love and to myself. I count myself lucky to have such an amazing partner who makes sure that I eat, sleep, and smile as much as possible. It helps to know that he is beside me every step of the way. He also keeps tabs on my abuser which is very comforting to me. Knowing that Steve Dahl loves Madison and visits often has made my home feel unsafe.

My Sweetheart

As I have observed everything going on with Kavanaugh I hear echoes of things that have been said to me regarding my abuse. It weighs heavy on my chest like a large boulder that I cannot lift off. Some days rage threatens every moment and every breath I take, other days I have to try desperately to keep the tears from flowing because I know that if they start I will not be able to turn them off. Then there are the days when I sit and stare into space, those days are the worst. I feel immobilized, frozen, like prey trying not to be detected by a world that feels unsafe to me.

I have heard people say they do not understand why Dr. Ford did not report when everything happened to her all of those years ago. I cannot say that reporting would have helped. Often when someone is caught not much happens to them and the accuser pays a very heavy price if she is even believed at all. What I hear those in power saying is, we believe this happened to her but we do not care. That was my experience. No one ever said they did not believe me, they just did not care. They still do not care. What they care about is protecting their male ally. They care about male authority and the sacredness of their organization. They don’t care about me and they never did.

Age 11

I hear some floating the idea that maybe she is just mistaken. It was really some other guy who just looks like Kavanaugh. I’m here to say that is unlikely. I remember my trauma very well, in fact, I remember it better than almost anything in my life. That is how trauma works. I remember what I was wearing, what he was wearing, where we were, what it smelled like, and what music was playing in the background. I might not be able to tell you the date but I know what season it was and what grade I was in. C-PTSD will ensure that you never ever forget.

The survivor knows that when she comes forward she is about to stand trial. There is always a price to be paid when you are a truth teller. Dr. Ford has paid and will continue to pay a heavy price for coming forward with her truth, for trying to do the right thing. When I started writing this blog last winter I braced myself for the backlash and it came like a storm into my life. I was accused of trying to ruin a good man’s life. They said he has led a clean good life since taking my childhood away. Apparently, the crimes committed against me mean nothing because he has been a good guy ever since. Remember these men rarely offend only once. Some questioned whether I even attended the church at the age I claimed all of this happened. All they need to do to figure that out is to look at their Sunday School, School, and Baptism records. The worst part is who came at me. Men mostly, many who have never met me, and some who knew me throughout childhood. Some of them wanting to protect the church and worst many who wanted to protect their friend. They have tried to shift the blame to me and my parents. They are happy for anyone to bear the blame as long it isn’t pastor Grant or Steve Dahl. They have been full of advice for me about how I should forgive for my own sake, take it to Jesus, and get on with my life.

Friends and supporters
Friends and supporters

The silver lining to this storm is women so many women and a few men. By telling my story I have opened the door and now I have so many allies. I have been telling my story since it happened but when I brought it completely out into the sunlight women came from all over to give me love, support, and even better they stood beside me and confronted my abuser. I hope that Dr. Ford sees all of the women protesting, holding vigils, sending her postcards, and sending her love and support. I believe her and I’m hoping my silver lining can be hers as well.