Why I Left
"You made a mistake," she accused.
Like a dormant volcano, the irritation in my voice erupted, and for a
moment I reverted back to the scared little girl who was backed into a corner
like a dog. "I'm not your employee anymore," I barked over the phone.
My heart pounded loudly in my ears as I explained why I had closed my
retirement account.
"We are required by law to make a deposit into your account, and
since you closed the account, now you'll have to pay a penalty," she
insisted.
The words danced carelessly through the air like dead leaves caught up in
a whirlwind as we argued. At the end of the conversation, I agreed to fix her
problem by opening a new account.
I hung up the phone, did some research online, and discovered that she
was right. But when I left her company months ago, she hadn't explained the law
to me. She had clarified very little at our parting.
But now here she was, suddenly in my face again, throwing accusations
at me and rubbing my nose in my mess, and now I was going to have to take
responsibility for her irresponsibility. All over again, her incompetence was my
inconvenience. All over again, she was controlling my money. All over again, she
was neglecting to take care of me the way any decent employer should take care
of an employee who works her tail off. Just like old times.
And then I remembered: That was why I left.
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Why I Am Keeping my Distance
"That's his problem," she accused over the phone. "What
does his family think of him talking about them like that during a
sermon?"
As if we had suddenly encountered a stalled car in the middle of a
street, our phone conversation quickly veered in an awkward direction. Was this
really happening? Was a trusted relative actually criticizing my pastor to me
directly? "I'm sorry you feel that way," I said, hoping my words
would serve as an effective band-aid.
But the bleeding continued. "I'm looking at it from the perspective
of a pastor's daughter. He can use other illustrations in his sermons."
Oh, she was a pastor's daughter. And what was I? Chopped liver?
But she was one of the nicer relatives. Even though the insults were
being hurled at my pastor's preaching style -- just like the Pharisees probably
did while Jesus was simply conducting His Father's business during His earthly
ministry -- I couldn't just insult her back. So, I just listened, and I bore
it.
Fortunately, she is aware of the fact that my pastor preaches different
sermon series on TV all the time, and maybe she'll actually like a series that
airs in the future. Perhaps she's looking forward to my pastor not being
vulnerable about his testimony at all. (Heh. Sorry, but that'll never happen.
One of the reasons why I stick around his church is because he constantly
creates an environment where people can safely be human.)
So, I took several giant paces away from her in my heart.
On a different occasion, another relative explained to me about a
friend of his: "He doesn't like hymns because he didn't grow up in church."
"I grew up in church, and I hate hymns," I said plainly.
The relative explained how contemporary worship artists update hymns to
make them "more palatable" and how he doesn't like it. He prefers the
traditional music. (Good for him. But it's also good for me to know that if I
ever decide to write a song by updating a hymn myself, he probably won't
support me.)
Suddenly, his wife leaned over to me and asked me if I would be interested in double-dating with them. Since I didn't give her the name of anyone that I am really interested in, she offered to set me up on a blind date. I left their house as quickly and as politely as I could.
That night, I cried on my pillow.
So, I'm hoping I'll never have to set foot in their house ever again.
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Why I Walked Away Forever
"Honor thy father and thy mother," the email message
repeatedly commanded.
I had just corresponded with my birth parents and explained why I had permanently
disowned myself from the family. Confused and heartbroken, my birth father was stunned as to why I left.
I had explained plainly, as gently as I could, that I left because they
were abusive, and also because God told me to leave.
Suddenly his confusion and heartache hardened into patronizing accusation.
I was told that anytime I hear a message, I need to make sure it doesn't go
against Scripture. There was no acknowledgement of abuse. But he did offer one
last eruption of scriptural and spiritual abuse for the road.
God also told me that there will be no reconciliation.
Years later, I was sitting in church during one of my vulnerable
pastor's sermons. He was passionately talking about how there are three
baptisms: salvation, water baptism, and baptism in the Holy Spirit. He
explained that many churches unfortunately only teach about the first two
baptisms. People are either scared of the very idea of the third baptism or
they simply haven't heard about it yet.
I know firsthand about the controversy that the third baptism causes in
the body of Christ. When I was first baptized in the Holy Spirit, my life was
never the same afterwards. After I received a prayer language, I made the mistake of telling
my birth parents about it. They spiritually abused me quite fiercely, even
getting me to profess that the baptism of the Holy Spirit occurs at salvation
(which it doesn't). They forced me to read a book. They forced me to listen to
a lengthy sermon series on audiotape. They did all they could do to deprogram
me.
Sometime after that, God began to show me that I would need to leave my
family. They were coming between Him and me. In essence, I would eventually
need to choose between my family and God.
So, I finally chose God.
During my vulnerable pastor's recent sermon about the three baptisms,
when I saw him get "worked up" about the ridiculous controversy that
the third baptism causes in the body of Christ, I recognized the frustration in
his voice.
Because I had felt it, too, many years ago.
Because the Holy Spirit is God. To claim to serve and worship God, but
to block a spiritually starved young woman from fully experiencing Him (the
only One who could ever heal her from all the years of control, shame, neglect,
and abuse)... well, I think Jesus would say it would be better for that person
if they were to have a millstone tied around their neck right before they are
thrown into the sea.
I will more than likely never see those people again.
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Why I Will Stay with Him Forever
He doesn't insist that I drag myself out of bed and open my Bible
before I talk to Him in the mornings. He lets me talk to Him groggily, waiting
for the snooze button to run its course, even while my cat is meowing at me or
stepping on me to convince me to get up and serve breakfast.
He is patient with me, and when I am ready to read in His Word, He
quietly waits for me to process what He is really saying. He listens to me. He
encourages me.
Sometimes He shows up suddenly in my day and gently asks me what I'm
thinking. The tone in His voice is one of an Intimate Friend, or perhaps a
Passionate Lover, or maybe an Eager Father who wants to build a relationship
with His child... even though He already knows her thoughts long before she
ever thinks about thinking about them.
When I am sad, He comforts me. When I am lonely, He spends time with
me. When I am angry, He helps me calm down. When I need a swift kick in the
tail, He is happy to oblige.
We talk about everything, and we talk about nothing. We are buddies. We are confidantes.
Our relationship is an uneven one, and it always will be, because He is God to whom no one can compare, and I am Tirzah who will always be helplessly dependent upon her Creator.
He never, ever accuses me. I never, ever feel trapped into a corner
with Him. I never, ever feel unsafe with Him. I never, ever feel misunderstood
by Him. I never, ever feel abused by Him. He never, ever makes me feel treated
like an object.
Because He knows that I am His child. He created me in His image. He
has my best interests at heart, and His way is always best.
He loves me. He wants me. He cherishes me.
He is set on permanently destroying any force that comes against me.
He takes care of me. He guides me. He knows that I need Him, and He
can't bear to be away from me, so He makes Himself available to me constantly.
In the past, I kept my distance from Him in one way or another. I ran away from Him. I embraced the poisons that swirled around like decaying
gases in my mind... the poisons that led me away from Him and threatened to
trap me and annihilate me. And they almost won.
But God broke through all of that and grafted me permanently into His
family. All Three of Them -- Father, Son, Holy Spirit -- all One of Him -- the
Lion adopted me as if I were an abandoned little kitten, and He nursed me
back to health.
I can't leave His house. I've become attached to Him. This is my home.
I belong here with Him. He's stuck with me forever.
And that's the way He wanted it in the first place.
I read the first three scenarios. God bless you Tirzah, rock star.
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