Rereading it this morning, I was struck by the gravity of the decision to leave The Way. I recall the fear, trembling, self-doubt, and more. That I had to come up with an exit strategy and the agonizing that went into that process almost boggles the mind, but then again not. Among other things it shows how deeply the tentacles of indoctrination and herd-mentality affect the soul.
When I left The Way and told people outside The Way that I had left, some responsed that I had simply left one church for another. I didn't object to their comments. Rather, I considered them and thought maybe that's all it was...yes, that's all it was.
But it wasn't. It was much larger than that.
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In October, 2005, after twenty-eight years of loyalty I exited The Way. To leave was a tormenting decision riddled with internal chaos. In my mind by choosing to leave I would be playing the Judas role three times (the number three Biblically representing "complete") and breaking a salt covenant ("worthy of death" according to Old Testament standards) which I had taken in 1981 at a Way Advanced Class Advance.
My departure was not in AWOL fashion as I had attempted two times before in previous decades. Rather, while trembling, I informed our husband-and-wife Limb/Region Leaders via phone about my decision. My husband joined the conversation via a second phone extension in our house. I wanted a witness.
The leaders' responses were that perhaps I needed to be going to more functions and wasn't giving enough; that I should have counseled with Way leadership before making my decision; that if I had "sincerely prayed" and contemplated, I would have chosen to stay with The Way; that The Way had experienced some problems through the years not unlike the first-century church; that most followers who leave never return; and that I was welcome back at anytime.
But no one could convince me to continue. Throughout the previous couple years my heart had become a vast, empty hole. I felt like a shell of a person. I wanted to feel whole again. Yet it was an incident with my son earlier that October that really catalyzed my decision to leave.
My then fifteen-year old son, his eyes damp with tears, said to me, "Mom, I feel empty inside." That was it. The vast void in my soul was not only affecting me, it was affecting my children. Or maybe my son was growing his own vast hole. At that point, I had to leave. Not to say that there weren't other reasons, but that incident was the deal breaker.
Through the previous couple years one of the main reasons I had stayed with The Way was for my family and children. I was afraid that if I left we would become splintered because we wouldn't be like-minded on the Word. It was one of my biggest fears. And then when I finally left, it was for my children. The scales had tipped, and the potential benefits outweighed any possible risks.
I already had a quasi-exit plan. For six months, since April, 2005, I had been seriously researching how to exit, in case this time would come. I didn't want to give up on the Word or become bitter. I just wanted to feel whole and connected again. I had to figure out whom I could trust; that's what it boiled down to. I left via one of the ex-Way splinter groups which was vital in helping me with my exit and later with my husband's. Though we only continued with the group for about one year, we will always be thankful for their help. (Click here to read a memoir piece about a letter I received in in May, 2005, that was the linchpin in my exit strategy.)
In hindsight, my exit in 2005 had begun at least seven years prior. In October, 1998, I began journaling, and I didn't stop. Since 1982 I had beaten my self up with shame and berated my self over being unable to believe God for healing of my chronic health issues. The Way taught a health-and-wealth gospel, though The Way would never call it that. (Click here to read about that doctrine helping to drive me to the brink of suicide.)
I was no longer able to stuff my inside turmoil into oblivion. The only thing I knew to do was, to write and write and write. Darkness, emptiness, pain, grief, self-loathing. It poured onto the page, which led to writing about hopes and dreams. For seven years I wrote until, quite literally, I wrote my way out of The Way.
Over the following eight months after I left in October, 2005, my husband and our children cut allegiances with The Way, each in their own time. Our then fifteen-year-old son drifted away within a couple months after my official exit. My husband officially left at the end of March, 2006. And our then eighteen-year-old daughter quit going to Fellowships around May, 2006. (Click here to read a letter my husband sent Rosalie Rivenbark, President of The Way at the time, shortly before his departure.)
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Excerpt Series: Part Three of my Way story
1984 and onward: Loyalty ~ Exit ~ Aftermath ~ Life
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2 comments:
Well-written piece describing a difficult choice.
SP
Thanks SP.
<3
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