Reflections of a Variant

It’s obvious that the result spiritual abuse would be a mistrust of churches and leaders, but what about how we lose the ability to trust ourselves or God?

My husband and I were recently talking about this, about giving all of ourselves to the Lord. Most people who experience spiritual abuse were some kind of church leader or PK, so we all know what it means to give ourselves completely over to the Lord and the church. As youths, we both sat through camps and conferences where some charismatic speaker would challenge listeners to give every part of our lives to Christ, and for some of us, we did just that.

We served, gave, obeyed, to the neglect of our own welfare and families. We didn’t recreate. We didn’t pursue dreams or passions that didn’t benefit the church. We didn’t pursue degrees or careers that those “over us” didn’t agree were a part of our calling (also because it didn’t benefit the church), because we were told that obeying your leaders = pleasing God, and 17-year-old you pledged to give God every piece of yourself.

And what did you get for such surrender? abused, beaten down, used, lied to, tossed aside, and defamed. It’s no wonder that, even if you chose to return to church and found a good, healthy place with good, healthy leaders, that you would still have mental barriers. You jumped in with both feet before and drowned. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…” It’s a really painful place to be in when your mind says, “I want to be a part of this again” and your heart says, “absolutely not”. No matter how badly part of you wants it, you just. cant’. trust. That 17-year-old girl who wanted nothing but the things of God died inside.

I wonder if the disciples, after Jesus’ death, felt this way? I imagine them gathered together in someone’s home buried under the utter grief of not just the loss of their savior, but the loss of everything they hoped for, everything they gave the last three years of their life to, everything they believed in with every fiber of their being gone. Just like that. Did they feel betrayed? Did they feel duped? Did they regret their decision to follow Christ? How could they ever trust again after something like that?

But then, the resurrection came.

The progress I made in therapy was remarkable, but it’s not an end-all by any means. I don’t think there was anything a therapist could do or say to get me to trust God again. I’ve been wrestling with Him about that for a good while now, and what the Holy Spirit has been doing in my heart can only be described as a resurrection. The more I abide in Christ, the more I trust. I have more trusting days now than not-trusting, and with that comes a hope I haven’t felt in many, many years.

Is it going to be like it was before? No. And thank God for that! That girl was a doormat. This resurrected girl has boundaries, has the freedom to pursue what she believes God is calling her to, not what an institution tells her to do, loves the lord on an intellectual level because she’s had to put her faith under a microscope, has more grace and compassion, and a fierce passion to see others who have experienced this wound healed and whole. I wouldn’t say that I am 100% all-in, fully trusting every day, but it is getting easier and easier. It’s taken a long time to get here.