Whew the last couple of summers have been challenging. Many of us in the survivor community have had to be brave in ways we never thought possible. Looking back it makes me beam with pride to see all we have accomplished. I have not seen the kind of justice I’d like to see but I feel good because I know I’ve worked hard to bring forth as much justice as possible. I’m tired but I’m not going to quit because this work is too important to me.
Speaking of rest, I have taken time over the last few days to strive less and rest more. I’m in the midst of a fibromyalgia flare and I’m once again reminded that I am not invincible. My eating disorder has popped back up probably due to stress and so I’ve had to be mindful to fuel my body. I’ve been struggling to sleep well so I’ve had to give myself some grace on the days I sleep later than I’d like to. All of this work has a cost and right now the cost is my sleep, my ability to eat, and the flaring of my chronic pain disorder. I’m not trying to come off as complaining but I’m trying to be honest about my personal limitations. I’m grateful that I can fill up on time with my children and grandchildren. I’m lucky to have two sweet doggos who are always up for a snuggle or a game of fetch. When I’m on my own I try to remind myself to breathe deeply and show myself self-compassion. Self-compassion is key to remaining healthy when doing work that is triggering due to trauma. I’m also working toward leaning into my softness and not feeling like I have to be in self protection mode all the time. This is especially difficult due to the C-PTSD I suffer from. Trying to heal while being hurt by the process of your work, being triggered daily, and never feeling like you’ve done enough can really throw a person. I wrestle every day with the drive to keep moving forward and also the desire to cut myself a break. This week I’m trying to be on the side of giving myself a break and resting.
This blog post is about what comes next so I suppose I should let you all in on what I have on my agenda. I’m currently working on revisions for the book I’m writing. It is exciting and taxing. I’m loving the process and I can’t wait until I have something to show you! I’ve also been considering what I’d like to research and share with you all here. The church teaching that caused me the most stress as a child was the theology of the rapture. I intend to talk more about that here and on my Youtube channel as I unwind the teachings that I took in as a child. I finally feel like I’m in a place with my trauma where it is safe for me to do that. After that I’d love to dive into the idea of original sin, but I feel that is a ways down the road. What would you like to see discussed here? Do you have a trauma sticking point you’d like me to cover?
Lastly, thank you. Thank you for sticking with me for so long as I work through my childhood and try to gain justice for myself and others. In some of my toughest times your comments have helped to see me through.
The last 24 hours has been very difficult for myself and others within our survivor community. We have been in the midst of an investigation being conducted by the United Pentecostal Church Wisconsin District. That investigation has wrapped up and the outcome is about what we all expected. John Grant was given probation for a year and he confessed to what amounts to breaking their rules regarding licensing. They claim they can do nothing about the fact that he covered up crimes against young girls that occurred when he was both pastor and district superintendent. The reason given is because there is nothing in the manual that states protecting children is an expectation for pastors. As you might imagine I have feelings about this. I will ask for grace from you all as I try to unwind how I feel about this outcome. I’ve spent much of my day in tears and dealing with hang up calls. I feel threatened even though I have no idea if the calls are from congregants or not.
The biggest problem I have with this outcome is the fact that survivors were not at the center of it. We went in and gave testimony to men we did not know regarding very personal and traumatic subject matter and they did nothing with all of the info we gave them. So why did they need our testimony? It is public record that Glen U. was arrested and sentenced and that he was a minister promoted by John Grant. John Grant went to court and testified to all of that. So they could have done all of this without us, right? Well no, they needed someone to make a complaint before they would act. They also refused to pay for the trial transcripts claiming they were too expensive. So we did what they asked and all he got was a slap on the wrist. It is my opinion that he should have lost his license and the whole church should have had to deal with a visit and reprimand from David Bernard. If asked they will claim there is nothing they can do and I just don’t believe that. If centering survivors mattered to them they would have demanded that John Grant not only apologize for the rule he broke but also apologize to us. They would have offered some ongoing support for survivors therapy because lets be honest we all know they have the money. They would have made a phone call or met with us in person to answer our questions rather than hiding behind a certified letter. When they asked us to come in person we did but when it is their turn to be vulnerable they hide like scared children. They recorded us as we told our stories and then they hide from us because they are afraid of what we might say about them. If they cared about survivors salvation as they claim to they could create survivor safe services, meaning a church service only for survivors in a non-church building location. In the end their reply was cold and sanitary, all by the book.
John Grant did not confess or apologize for promoting Steve Dahl. He was district superintendent when Steve was sent to Brother Bridges church in Neenah. Steve was allowed to lead a daughter work and was even included in the directory. John Grant knew that Steve had molested two girls, myself included, while he was at the Madison church, and still he was welcomed back with open arms. He was shown grace that they never extended to me. I am done extending any grace to The United Pentecostal Church. I have jumped through their hoops and entrusted my case to their Safe Church program. They have proven to be all talk and no action. We wanted consequences and for them to take responsibility. Because what he did to the survivors wasn’t even considered in my mind we got nothing. I feel burned by the entire process and it will take a very long time to heal from this fresh trauma.
My heart has been stirring for the last few days as new allegations of sexual abuse and misconduct from within the United Pentecostal Church have come to light. Sometimes it seems never ending and somedays I tell myself that I’m too tired or angry to speak but today is not one of those days. April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month and I feel that this is the perfect time to remind people that behind all of these stories is a real victim/survivor and their families. I watch as people spar over what the Bible says and who is a licensed minister within the UPC and who is not. I watch as David Bernard ducks and weaves to avoid being held accountable for what happened within the organization he leads. In the midst of all of this people discuss whether or not the victim is to blame and some sling arrows saying things like, “It takes two to tango.” I wish I could say that I am surprised but I am not. From my personal experience the UPC will never miss the opportunity to blame the victim and support the perpetrators. I believe it is all about money and saving their precious reputation. Nepotism has long been a problem within the organization and they do not seem to be in any hurry to solve it. They definitely are not in a hurry to take responsibility when their sin is brought out into the light.
Minors cannot give consent and cannot be held responsible for the thoughts and actions of adults. When I was abused within the Madison Wisconsin congregation I was 11 years old and very modestly dressed. I had never held hands with a boy and actually did not really have much interest in boys at that point. I was an innocent and none of that kept me safe from an abusive man and the pastor and others who did not report it to the police. I did not cause this grown man to fall into sin and neither did any of the survivors who followed after me. The other thing that isn’t often talked about is the lifetime of pain and trauma that awaits survivors of sexual abuse. It isn’t a little thing. It changes who you are and for many of us it drove us away from the church. We became the focus of gossip instead of being the focus of love and compassion.
When I think of these new survivors and all the ones who came before I send a little prayer out to the universe. I wish them love and compassion, healing and wholeness, understanding and friendship. I hope they have someone in their lives to tell them it isn’t their fault and if they do not have a person like that I hope they find my blog. I am grateful for those who continue to drag these stories out into the light. I am also thankful for those who continue to fight when I cannot. I may not always say thank you but I see your work and I appreciate your support.
“You’re not a victim for sharing your story. You are a survivor setting the world on fire with your truth. And you never know who needs your light, your warmth, and raging courage.” — Alex Elle
National Child Abuse Hotline Call or text hotline: 800.422.4453
I’ve been thinking about survival. Before writing this morning I asked myself, “How did you survive when things were so awful?” When I was a child and teen I had a very rich inner life. When I was a little kid my imagination helped me to go to other places in my mind. Most of the time this was a good skill although sometimes it would lead me into imagining hell and other scary scenarios. At times I would get stuck in a loop and it would be almost impossible for me to escape these imaginations. It was like a virus that had to run its course. Now I understand that it was trauma. Often escaping these cycles of thought required something stronger to override their power.
On good days I would imagine myself as Wonder Woman. My bike would become her invisible plane and I would fly through the neighborhood solving crimes and kicking ass. When I close my eyes I can still go to that place. I can still feel my bike beneath me and the wind gently sweeping across my face. When I allow myself to go to that place in my mind immediately a smile creeps in. My bike was freedom. It was a way for me to work out all of my frustration and pent up anxiety. Those endorphins are good medicine.
Physical exertion has always helped me cope in difficult times. When I was a child riding my bike along with other things like gymnastics and hitting my tennis ball against the wall could help me get out of my head. I never enjoyed gym class but it wasn’t because I hated exercise. It had more to do with the social dynamics at play and being forced to participate in team sports that I did not care for. I have never really been comfortable with competition. During gym class I was often picked last. My family did not care much about sports so I had little exposure to things like football and baseball. My parents enjoyed solitary sports and my father enjoyed boxing. They instilled in me an appreciation for being outdoors and competing against self vs others. My father in particular was always pushing me to run farther and faster. He would shadow box with me and I was fond of playing with his boxing equipment. Jump roping was another activity I enjoyed. I would count my jumps to see if I could beat yesterday’s number.
Luckily for me I had a very creative mother and she instilled in me a love for art and music. Art in particular helped me to escape the sadness that permeated every part of my life. I could lose myself in a flow state. I could spend all day drawing or gluing popsicle sticks together. I played with clay and always had tons of coloring books around. To this day when I need to shut my brain off for a bit I will color in my adult coloring book.
Music was another thing that supported me when life was too tough to take. I have always enjoyed singing and my mother would sing with me at home. My father was very sentimental and he always had music on as well. I liked some church music but secular music was so much better. Church music just reminded me of things that made my anxiety worse. It is true that listening to “worldly” music would bring about a sense of guilt but the happiness it brought made it worth it. Secular music offered me a chance to escape into the world of the song and imitating the artists allowed me to try on different identities. It did not take long for musicians to surpass television and book characters as the focus of my escapism. I spent so many afternoons singing into my hairbrush imagining being anywhere but my bedroom.
Fast forward to now and my coping mechanisms are the same. I would like to say that they are all good but that would be a lie. I can still go inside my head and lose myself in my inner world. Sadly it is not always friendly inside my head and I no longer see myself as Wonder Woman. Going too deeply inward can often turn into dissociation. It is like I’m not really present but floating above my body or just outside of the frame of my life. Disconnected from what is happening right in front of me. It isn’t that I have anything terrible to escape but it has become a coping mechanism I employ in order to handle anxiety. Suffering from Complex PTSD means that as good as life gets I always have to remind myself that I’m no longer living the life I lived in the past.
Television helped me to handle the lonely days of childhood and it can still help me at times. I have to be careful because it can become a numbing mechanism, keeping me from being present. I realize that it was a numbing mechanism when I was a kid as well, but survival requires doing what you can to get through. Now I have other better ways of coping and so I have to remember that. What works best is being mindful. Mindful of which television shows I watch and that applies to other things as well, like podcasts. By choosing things versus just numbing out it helps to keep me present.
I still love to exercise. Moving my body helps to keep me sane. Just like when I was a kid, endorphins are great medicine. I can tell when I haven’t moved my body enough because my anxiety becomes really high. Exercise allows me to shut my brain off for a while and just be in my body. Not floating above like when I’m dissociating and not numbing out either. It is like my brain becomes still, which is not a state I can easily achieve. My body gets to release all of its pent up frustration and anxiety. Even as I write this I can see how I separate my mind from my body instead of seeing myself as a whole being. Fractured is the word that comes to mind. It probably would not surprise you to know that I view myself as broken. I have to fight that thought and feeling. Yes, I have C-PTSD and that makes me different from most people but it doesn’t make me broken. I have to work very hard to send my poor injured brain love instead of berating myself for not being “fixed” by now.
Creating art is probably the most pure thing in my world. I still use it as a coping mechanism but at the end I have this beautiful piece of expression to hold in my hands and enjoy. The act of using my hands to create soothes my anxiety and allows my mind something wonderful to focus on. If left to its own devices my brain just naturally wonders to a sad place, that is my set point. Sometimes it is depression and much of the time it is just a result of my lived experience. Creating helps me to breathe deep and lose myself in that flow state once again.
Music is still so dear to me. Some of my only happy memories involving church revolve around singing and music. My husband and I recently went to see The Avett Brothers in concert. Nothing beats being in the midst of a crowd singing along to your favorite song. I often come away from these shows with aches and pains from dancing and jumping around to the music but it is worth every bruise. Music is a double edged sword. It can heal or hurt depending on what I hear. Hearing hymns or the dreaded Thief in the Night song which shall not be named can trigger me in pretty profound ways. Songs get stuck in my head and it can be VERY hard to get them out, that being said nothing heals like music can. It can erase my anxiety and help my mind to shift when a trigger threatens to overwhelm me.
“One little song
Give me strength to the leave the sad and the wrong
Bury safely in the past where I’ve been living
Alive but unforgiving
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go”
Souls Like The Wheels- The Avett Brothers
It’s funny how I’m still that little girl I used to be. I still use the same coping mechanisms to survive. Someday I would like to see myself as thriving and not merely surviving but I’m not there yet. When people ask me how I made it through my childhood it can be hard to answer. Some of it was the methods I mentioned above, some was luck, and some was a toughness gifted to me through my parents. Yes, things were very hard but they could have been worse. Especially when you stop to consider how often I was left unsupervised. In many ways my life is a miracle. I’m here and I’m safe.
If you are a survivor I hope you can hear this next part very clearly. If you need to numb or dissociate to get through whatever you are going through do not beat yourself up. Are there better coping mechanisms? Sure, but sometimes you can’t reach them for a whole host of reasons and so doing the best you can today is ok. I am 51 and I have been working on healing myself for a long time. We are not all in the same place and so wherever you are I’m glad you’re here and I hope that tomorrow is a better day. When I speak about my own survival I am not judging you for where you are in your journey towards healing.
Freedom is a word that keeps coming up in my life. It has been especially present the last three or four years. I keep moving closer and closer to it and with each step, I cast away more of my chains. With the most painful struggles have come the greatest rewards. My whole body has been buzzing with anxiety and it is unrelenting. I have not been sleeping and at times tears well up in my eyes for no real specific reason. I have restarted my EFT routine in hopes of being able to cope better. Why is all of this happening? I believe it is a result of all of the emotions being stirred up due to EMDR. I can feel the EMDR purging the deepest parts of my trauma and with that comes an amazing sense of freedom. I can feel those memories moving from an ever present pain to a distant sadness. That’s progress. EMDR has forced me to look at some things with a clarity that is so raw and bright. It is impossible to continue to lie to myself or not see the evil of others for exactly what it is. Along with this comes some greiving. When you lie to yourself about people and their intentions and you finally see the truth you then have to grieve what you thought your relationship to those people was. For example, I am finally starting to let go of some very deeply held shame and blame. These feelings were so hidden and a part of who I am that I did not realize I still held them. On a logical level, you can know something in your mind but your heart might tell a different story. Once you let go of the lies you’ve been telling yourself the truth can be shocking. My truth is that I was a little girl just trying to make it in a harsh world. I was not to blame in any way for what happened to me or for how I was treated by certain people. All the shame that was heaped on me was not mine to take responsibility for. It might surprise you to know that in the still of the night my inner voice would question, “Did I do something to cause these things to happen to me?” “These people cannot be as bad as I think they are.” Now I know and can say in my most full-throated voice than none of what happened to me was my fault. The magic of this is that I really feel it in my bones for the first time.
Some of the truths I’ve had to face are kind of brutal. There are some things that happened to me during my childhood that are too dark for me to give breath to here. Sometimes abuse happens and on the surface, it doesn’t look like abuse. It might feel off and you might question for decades if it was abuse or if you should just cut that person some slack. Maybe they didn’t know better or maybe they had some mental illness that made them behave a certain way. The part of you that loves them wants to protect them from the things they’ve done. Once you’ve seen them clearly and you allow light to be shone onto the things they’ve done you cannot unsee what is right in front of your eyes. Then you have a choice to make. Love yourself and set yourself free or continue to try to unsee the truth and protect those who hurt you. I’m choosing to love myself but it comes with a cost. The cost is letting go of old beliefs and feeling the pain of the reality of the situation. Right now I feel the pain every day but I know it will lessen over time. The other side of the coin is knowing that I did not, could not cause all of that to happen. I was just a child.
I know that some of you will say, “I still have friends at Calvary Gospel” or “There are still good folks there.” You are free to believe however you wish but from where I stand I do not see how that is possible. Sure years ago when maybe some people really didn’t know what was going on, although I don’t know how they could not see what was right in their faces. The information regarding how many young girls and others were abused has been out and available for a couple of years now. If they still attend they are choosing to support a church that covers up crimes and fosters an abusive environment. I cannot support anyone who turns a blind eye to the truth of what that church is. I cannot lie to myself and say that any of those people are or could be a friend to me. If you know, and they do, that these awful crimes have been committed and you still support Calvary Gospel then you are complicit. These people who still attend CGC are supporting racism, classism, misogyny, child abuse, and the Grants who have been a party to a multitude of sins. Saying this out loud is like breaking the final link in a chain of pain tying me to CGC. There was a time when I felt sorry for the congregation and maybe even wanted to save them in a way from the UPCI. I get the brainwashing and control and how hard it is to break free, but then I wonder how do the Grants still have a church, how are people still attending? Especially after everything with Glen Uselmann being out in the press. I believe that if they are still there it is because they want to be. This may sound harsh and it was my feelings of guilt and shame, which CGC gifted me with, which has caused me to worry about what others might think of my feelings.
I know that we are all on different parts of our journey and I do not expect everyone to agree with me. If you cannot agree with me I hope you can at least rejoice with me in my freedom. I hope that you will also understand that I no longer intend to soft-peddle my opinions about the Grants, my parents, or anyone else who abused me or watched while I was being abused and did nothing. My goal is to heal and that means getting really real.
As new things develop and as I work through my personal trauma I have to ask where is the bottom? Where is the bottom when it comes to Calvary Gospel’s crimes against its congregation. I watched their Sunday morning service after they learned of Glen Uselmann’s charges and I was surprised. I shouldn’t be but I find that they never cease to amaze me. As they sink lower and lower I wonder how did they get this way? During their service, there was no mention of healing for the abused but there was mention of healing for Glenn. They did not display humbleness or any sense of self-reflection. What they did display was a sense of being persecuted. Pastor Roy Grant once again did not speak to his congregation. I have watched many regular services now and he has not spoken at any of them. I have to wonder where is his leadership? The speaker mentioned the torture of the saints and those dealing with depression but no mention was made of the trauma survivors. It is important to keep in mind that we survivors are the children of their congregation. They raised us and their lack of compassion towards our pain is nothing short of stunning. They continue to direct all of their love and compassion towards the ones who committed crimes against their children. When they speak out against myself and others they often say that we mischaracterize their views on women. I do not understand how they can say that when their views are so obvious and on full display. As girls, we were made to believe that we were second class citizens in the kingdom of God. Not just second class citizens but walking sin that needed to be covered up, hidden, and we needed to be ever vigilant lest we caused our brother to fall. Whatever they actually believed the message that was delivered was that men bear no responsibility for their actions but little girls should somehow be capable to make or break a man in the lust department. Little girls were told not to bring shame on the church by reporting, not to ruin a grown man’s life, and to take responsibility for the whole situation. Little girls often bore the stain of whatever happened while the men would go on to make their mark in the ministry. If women are truly the weaker vessel then why are they given so much responsibility to carry, especially young girls? It is also important to point out that we are talking about children. Grown men should not be lusting after children. A girl of 11 or 12 is a child. Most of the rest of society can see this why can’t they? They act so put upon, so persecuted, and they seem to have no awareness of their responsibility. As they dig in their heels they risk falling deeper into the pit they have created for themselves.
It is pretty unusual for me to have something good to report and so I am really happy to have some positive news to share with you today! Some of you may remember reading Rebecca’s story here:
These charges are very serious and I hope that he does some serious jail time. Rebecca is fortunate that her case is still inside the statute of limitations. I am hoping that by shining a light on this case more survivors may come forward. It can be so scary to tell your story and when you go to the police often you have to tell your story over and over. Rebecca is a brave warrior and I am so happy for her!
I would be lying if I said this situation hasn’t caused me some worry. The fact is we just do not know how Calvary Gospel and the Grant family will respond to this. They have never had the light of justice shined in their eyes before. They have never been held responsible for anything. Granted this case is bringing Glen to justice and not John Grant it still has to have them rattled. They may be called into court to testify and who knows what Glen might say about the church and the Grants when he is attempting to cut a deal. In my experience, the Grants will throw people under the bus to save their own skin. I will update you as things continue to unfold.
Warrior Women
I will continue to fight alongside Rebecca as long as it takes to bring all of these predators to justice!
I can’t believe I have to say this but…here it goes…I don’t care what anyone thinks about me writing this blog. If you don’t like what I am writing about you can always feel free to scroll on by and just ignore it. I know that there are some out there who have grown up within the same church as I did who did not suffer the same level of trauma. Maybe you are whiter or had better parents, or just got lucky. No one can say why some people end up with PTSD and others do not. It could be that I am a more sensitive person than you, or it could be that I took it all more seriously. That being said, I am who I am and I have PTSD and that means that whether it was 30 or 40 years ago doesn’t really matter to me because my brain reacts like it is happening right now. I can’t just let that go because my mind will not allow it. Don’t think for one minute that I have not spent my whole adult life trying to leave it all behind.
I write for me. I write to give my child self a voice. I write to drag the sins of the past out into the light. I write in hope that others will be less afraid to step forward. I write to create change. I desire that one day those who oppress the young through fear and intimidation will fall and other more compassionate leaders will take their place. I write to give a voice to all those who are too afraid to speak, those who came before and after me for whom the stakes are too high. Yes, a lot of time has passed and it might make some more comfortable if I just shut up about it but I can’t do that. I cannot be quiet as long as other children are at risk. Just because I have made it out doesn’t remove my responsibility to let the world know that there are still others left behind. Who is speaking for the kids of color at CGC right now? Who is speaking for the girls being abused right now? I have zero reasons to believe that because most of the daily work has passed from father to son that everything is magically better. Those adults who knew about my abuse and turned a blind eye are still in leadership roles and I’m not just talking about the Grants. I will continue to speak up about this until CGC has dissolved or the UPCI has stepped in and removed the current leadership. This isn’t just about the distant past, it is about now. If you felt you had to run away from that place then you know something is wrong there. Not everyone can speak up for those kids who are still there, I understand that, all I ask is that you not throw stones at me as I try to.
Happy 2020! If you are new to my blog I encourage you to start at the beginning even though there is a lot of content to get through. You will understand my story better if you start at the first post. This year I suspect the content of this blog might shift a little. I want to focus a bit more on the after-effects of trauma and how it impacts people long term. I know that it continues to affect me and many others I have contact with.
About a month ago I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and possibly another autoimmune disorder. There is a lot going on with my health, way more than I have the time to get into here. I firmly believe that my illness has a lot to do with the trauma I suffered in the past. There is science to back this up. Women are much more likely to suffer from fibro and those who have been through childhood trauma are even more likely. There seems to be a real connection between fibro and childhood sexual abuse. Even more so there is a connection between childhood trauma and autoimmune disease in general. I find this to be a fascinating topic. Many survivors I know suffer from depression and anxiety due to their past abuse and many folks with autoimmune disorders also suffer from mental illness.
I think the physical burdens carried by abuse survivors speaks to how hard or impossible it may be to “just let it go.” We are often told to forgive and forget but when your body is still experiencing things decades later it can be hard to just pretend like nothing ever happened.
If you are a survivor, have you suffered from an illness that you feel is connected to your past experiences?
Debbie McNulty 