Breaking Up is Hard to Do

An old sixties song asks the question,

when the truth is found to be lies
and all the joy within you dies:

don't you want somebody to love?
don't you need somebody to love?

wouldn't you love somebody to love?
you better find somebody to love . . .

For me this has been a year of stark realities. I've been forced to accept the ending of a long relationship, as well as Tim's accident and its repercussions for him and for those who love him. Other issues too numerous to go into have created emotional and mental confusion. It seems I've been on one long roller coaster ride of sorts, and as it coasts to a stop I'm met with one more reality: I want a divorce.

You may wonder at that, as I've never given the impression of being married. Oh, but I am. Many years ago (46, to be exact), my abuser introduced into our ragtag of a family the cult of Adventism. The King of the Mountain, with his typical arrogance, decided for everyone in the family that Seventh-day Adventists (and only Seventh-day Adventists) held THE TRUTH. Henceforth, we were to be an Adventist family. We wouldn't exactly live up to its strict teachings, mind you, for some of them (such as not smoking, or sinning by enjoying oneself on Saturday, the true Sabbath) were flat out inconvenient to my stepdad. He couldn't be bothered by them. This greatly troubled me, for I immediately fell into the whole nit-picking, rule keeping mentality of this new religion. As chaotic as my world had suddenly become (what with my parents' divorce, my stepdad's inability to keep his hands to himself, oh, just one thing after another), I needed order. I needed rules to follow. It was inevitable that I would soak up Adventism like a little sponge.

For those who have been fortunate enough to avoid involvement with a religious cult, words cannot convey the depth to which one's  life is altered by the false teachings and elitism of the cult. Independent thought and the asking of questions is not only not encouraged, its all but forbidden.

My life became a nonsensical mix of sexual abuse, heartbreak over losing my dad and brothers--and now this, the need to adhere to the church's no nonsense rules. Overnight God seemed to have changed from the loving deity I'd loved and trusted, to a sort of grumpy old man who hated everyone, even while pretending to love them (I could never quite grasp why it was said he loved the world so much that he sent his son to die for us, if we all seemed to get on his nerves so much.) There was simply no pleasing him, but I was going to try if I died in the process. It's obvious to me now that my efforts to please God and win his favor were not unlike my desires to please my abuser so that he would start loving me.

Pivotal to  Adventist doctrine is belief in Ellen G. White (one of the founders of the church) as a prophet sent from God. She wrote a zillion books delineating how God wants us to live. I grew up on these books, taking every word to heart. To this day (though I haven't read her writings in quite awhile), I have certain passages committed to memory.

If I couldn't understand biblical passages, I went straight to Ellen White to see what she had to say on the subject. Oh, it pains me to admit this, but there have been times I couldn't take the Bible at face value; I had to make sure that it lined up with Ellen White's teachings first.

So you see, somewhere along the way I seem to have betrothed myself to Ellen White. Where she went, I followed. At her slightest frown I quaked, so fearful  of earning her disapproval and losing my salvation.

And so, I want a divorce. Adventists don't believe in or countenance divorce--I want one all the same.

Legalism (the effort to earn favor with God) lacks joy and liberty. I want both of these.

Today, on my birthday, I give myself the present of truth, with a bunch of liberty thrown in for good measure. Today I proclaim my release from captivity to the false teachings of a false prophet. Time doesn't allow a detailed account of just why I've concluded Ellen White to be a false prophet. My arrival at this conclusion has been one long, slow process, which I take very seriously.

Always there has been someone or something between me and God:  false teachings, an overly strict, condemning so-called prophet, or men who have in every way possible let me know that there was something wrong with me.

Let me start my new year off by casting off the old. Let me breathe in truth, and revel in the simplicity of the faith I first accepted wholeheartedly at a time when my childhood was still uncomplicated and true.

Getting back to that old sixties song, yes I sure do want someone to love.  With growing clarity I see that he's been here all along waiting patiently for me to tire of false lovers.  

Today is the beginning of a new journey back to myself and, in the process, a return to my true spiritual roots:  a return to the one I love.

What a homecoming this will be! 

Comments

[Austin]

Abuse mixed with religion makes for one mixed up little child. I know what you mean by crossing lines between making God love you and making the abuser love you. For me it seemed one in the same. As a matter of fact, when it came to the abuse I was told the warmth I'd feel on my body was a gift from God and if it wasn't there then neither was God. Survivors often get a false sense of who God is when the abuser sets himself or herself up as The Most High.

When I was able to separate the two there was certainly freedom...and relief. Oh the relief.

Austin

[Jewellybeano]

Freedom for that sounds like the bets possible gift you can ever give yourself. Happy birthday Beauty!

[Marcy]

Mmmmmm... taste and see that the Lord is good!

[enola]

Happy Happy birthday!

[risingrainbow]

Good for you! Getting free of religious cultism is really difficult.