(aww: 01/27/10)
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Summer, 2003. We moved again, our fifth move in less than seven years. Sick of putting our money into rent we went against Ministry directives and took out a mortgage for a home.
It all happened so smoothly, finding the home on Commonwealth just as it had gone off the market. This treasure, an answered prayer, discovering this bright, open, tri-level home with the beautifully landscaped large yard and hundreds of Impatience dancing and painting the front garden. Then meeting the owners, Joyce and Ken, who had lived there for thirty years and had raised four children in that home. Wonderful people. Until the closing date almost a month later, I'd visit with them on the back porch which became my favorite room of the house. Joyce had personally collected every rock that bordered the five landscaped gardens that she had aesthetically placed across the front and back lawns. Joyce and Ken were moving to the North Carolina Outer Banks into a furnished home and offered us some of the furniture they'd be leaving behind; not to mention the garden tiller, the wood chipper, the water hoses, the ladders and more.
We could have bought the place on a handshake.
But how could disobeying a directive of God end up such a blessing? Was it a faulty answer to prayer? I kept waiting for the adversary to exploit us somehow for going into debt, kept waiting for a shoe to drop.
Earlier, in October, 2002, I tried resigning from my volunteer position as a Way Household Fellowship Coordinator. A month earlier, in September, my psychologist, Dr. McColloch, had advised me to quit attending Way leadership meetings, even suggesting that I quit coordinating all together. Every time I'd go to a leadership meeting I'd get set back in therapy, berating myself for not living up to standards. I'd hired Dr. McColloch in latter 2000 at the strong urging of my General Practitioner. At the time I asked my GP, "But what if the psychologist asks me to do something weird or unbiblical?" I was nervous about going to a secular psychotherapist. My GP assured me that wouldn't be the case. He was right. I had grown to love and respect Dr. McColloch.
I asked Dr. McColloch, "How do I tell Ministry leadership, about me quitting?" I'd served in some sort of lay leadership for decades. He responded, "If they give you any flack, tell them I said you need to quit. Doctor's orders." But I couldn't tell them that. Then Dr. McColloch would look bad and the leadership might think I was talking bad about them to Dr. McColloch and putting the Ministry at blame. But I hadn't done that, had I?
I made the phone call to one of my Way Branch Leaders, also a psychologist, to inform her that I was resigning my volunteer position as Fellowship Coordinator. The Branch leaders were a husband-wife team. Usually a Branch in The Way comprised five to seven fellowships. Our "Branch" had only two fellowships with around fifty believers total. The Branch Leaders ran one of those fellowships; my husband and I ran the other.
On that phone call she and I discussed my 'problem' of how I felt pressure at the leadership meetings. "We don't put pressure on you, do we?" she asked. "No," I responded. "It's something in my head, my problem."
As we talked I opened up a bit as to how I had felt uncomfortable, doubting myself, during a previous phone call with her husband. She asked if I'd discussed that incident with Dr. McColloch. I answered in the affirmative. She then asked if I had explained to Dr. McColloch the context and my issue so that "the Ministry be not blamed." I again felt at fault. I explained to her that I didn't blame the Ministry for my problems and that I had not told Dr. McColloch anything to make leadership look bad. Her husband had done nothing wrong; it was my perception that made me feel pressure.
Somewhere in this discussion tears began to well; I choked them back as I stood at the kitchen sink, phone in hand, looking out the window of the old house. I knew my emotional issues weren't the Ministry's fault; I was the one at fault, but I had to get well. I had to get well.
She said I couldn't resign my position because John and I were a team and John was still a coordinator.
I could no longer hold back the tears. Through the sobs I responded that John said it was o.k. and biblically John was my head; he had given me permission to resign. The sobs turned to anguish and I pleaded with her that I had to get well. She asked, "But is now a good time to make this decison, in October? It's a pattern that your problems worsen in October. October is the Ministry's anniversary date; the adversary always raises his head at this time. And is it really right for you to quit? To not share your abilities with the Body of believers? "
I felt confused. She's right. I always get fucked up starting around October.
I began to feel anger in my chest. Damnit, what was so wrong with me coming forward, trying to be honest? What was so wrong with me wanting to get well? What was so wrong with that!!!???
My body tensed. My teeth clinched. My nostrils flared. I can't tell her Dr. McColloch has advised me to step down; that might make him look bad and like I've bad-mouthed the Ministry.
In my over twenty-five years of serving with The Way I had never gotten in a heated discussion with leadership, never raised my voice. How could I make her see!?!
With desperation and anger starting to seethe, my tears stopped. Fury began to sizzle. My head cleared.
I responded in anger, answering her question with a question, my voice firm and the volume above its normal subservient tone, "Is it WRONG?!?"
Her response was silence. Maybe I'd just done something right. I felt a tiny sense of empowerment, but soon squeezed it back into its proper place.
My resignation was never publicly acknowledged. I still stood up at larger functions, smiling, when John and I were introduced as Household Fellowship Coordinators. I begrudged it; but I obliged. It was my duty. But I quit helping with coordinating duties, other than hosting fellowships in our home and leading songs and children's fellowships; those didn't put much pressure on me. I attended no more leadership meetings; on that I stood firm.
John had given the Branch leaders notice that he'd like to step down by December, 2002. But no one was around to take our place. December came and went. John continued the position until April, 2003.
We got the mortgage at the end of July.
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Click here to read an introduction to memoir: Journey through Memoir: Introduction
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