You know that sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you just know something has gone terribly wrong?
That’s the feeling my husband and I had when we realized something was amiss.
Our meeting with the pastor was on April 21, 2020. Unfortunately, the days turned into weeks, and we never heard from him again.
We didn’t know what was going on.
The pastor’s last words to us were, “we are good,” yet we hadn’t heard from him since then.
We didn’t know what to do. We thought about calling or texting the pastor again, but we realized that the ball was in his court. We had already called him to our house to work things out. We had taken the appropriate steps to make amends… yet, there was nothing but silence on his end.
By May 10, we were beginning to get very worried. At this point, we realized that maybe things hadn’t gone as smoothly with our talk with the pastor as we initially thought. It hit us like a ton of bricks.
Controlling the narrative for the past several months to make him look good may have blown up in my face.
My husband and I felt guilty about not confiding in our friends the night we went out to dinner. That night I wrote about earlier… the one where I looked my friends in the eyes and told them that the only reason I was resigning was that it was what God wanted me to do. The ones the pastor had been so concerned about me telling…
It had been heavy on our minds since that very day, and because of that, they were the first ones we decided to reach out to with the entire truth.
I’ve looked back over my text messages. In March of 2020, the wife of this couple text me to ask when I was coming back to church. In that series of messages, she asked me if my issue was with the pastor. I told her it was. I offered to tell her the entire story then and there. She said she would call me back later that night, but that call never happened.
When I looked back over those messages, it made me sad. It was comfortable and familiar.
In the end, and I will go over this more in the next post, she was very understanding about things, more so than her husband.
Anyway, back to May 11…
I’m not sure why we kept calling this friend… maybe it was because we trusted him or because we treasured the friendship. It might also have been that he was chairman of the deacon board at the time and he could easily pass along to others what we said. Whatever the reason, my husband decided to call him again on May 11, 2020.
My husband spent an hour and a half on the phone with this friend that afternoon. He explained that he thought it was time for him to resign from his teaching position and be removed from the active deacons list. He told him how we had tried to make things right with the pastor, yet we never heard from him again. This, to us, was a sign that it was time to move on.
After that long conversation with my husband, this friend began to text me.
But not before my husband called to fill me in on how the conversation went.
My husband’s first words were… they feel lied to, and I don’t think this will be as easy to fix as we had hoped.
This is when I’m very thankful for technology and for my habit of never deleting emails. I remember things in great detail, but having the documentation to go back and look at, is proof of how upset I was during this time. In all honesty, it’s painful to go back and read. But I’m glad I have it.
I will insert portions of the emails I sent to my counselor when this all went down.
I’ve always referred to my husband as “my husband”… I’ve been cautious to only use my name in this entire blog. However, for this portion of the story, I’ve asked his permission to use his name. It’s easier for me if I don’t have to redact his name… plus, I couldn’t have walked through this without him, so from now on, for all the world to know, my husband’s name is Jeremy. Just so you know, he’s almost perfect in my eyes.
Dear Dr. ********,
Yesterday was hard. Jeremy teaches a Sunday school class in a rotation with 2 other men. One of those men (**** *******) we love dearly. We trust him. His family has always been close with ours. Jeremy called him Monday to let him know he needed to be out of the teacher rotation and also placed on the inactive deacon list, since this guy is also the deacon chairman. He explained to **** what we were thinking and why. ****has known things along the way but never everything. Jeremy talked to him for an hour and a half. Afterward, Jeremy called me and told me how it went. He said **** felt like I lied to them, like I was holding a grudge and that I didn’t take criticism well. So, that hurt. **** immediately texted me to say they wanted to get together ASAP for dinner and to talk. I offered to go last night. When he hadn’t confirmed that time by Monday night, I texted and asked if that time would work. He said it wouldn’t and that maybe later in the week or weekend would be better for them. I said we can make that work. But I added, just want to make sure y’all aren’t mad at me because I would really hate that. What followed was a series of text messages,... one saying they were just hurt and felt lied to, one with me explaining that the pastor basically put a gag order on me before I resigned and then this one from **** that I’ll copy and paste.....
From Him:
The other side of the equation is this…I can’t comprehend how there is such a divide between the two of you, and how **** is viewed by you as such an under-handed person. He was a close friend of yours at one time , and he still has those qualities that made him a valued, trusted friend! He is human, makes mistakes along the way and has apologized as a friend and former boss to you, but it seems to me that you want to hold a grudge and punish him (and, in turn, your mutual friends as well as family to some degree) versus simply giving forgiveness as we are expected to do as believers. You’re asking me (& *******) to forgive your dishonesty right now yet don’t want to do the same for the pastor. That’s not right. His motives were not deceitful with you any more or less than your actions were with us, yet I can assure you that you’re unequivocally forgiven by me! Now, can you do the same for ****? Do you want me to cite all the Scriptures that are on point or Christian songs that should strike a chord with you? You know them already so don’t be prideful and stubborn! I love you, and I love **** so watching this from a distance is sickening.
I read this text from him and just cried. This is how people are perceiving me. Just what I thought would happen. This was my response to him after I pulled myself together....
My Response:
I’m sorry you don’t understand. I assure you that 1) I have reached out to **** on many occasions and tried to get us back in the same friend zone. I can show you text messages and emails. 2)I have forgiven him. This isn’t about forgiveness it’s about trust. 3) I don’t think he is a bad person or does all of these things intentionally, he’s just in over his head. 4)I’m not punishing anyone. I’m genuinely trying to figure out what God wants me to do. I have sought the help of a counselor throughout this entire process. Not one turn have I taken lightly or carelessly. It has taken me months to see everything clearly. I should’ve told you everything from the beginning. I regret that decision. I will sit down and tell you everything. I will walk you through my entire process and try to help you understand. I’m not an evil, grudge holding person. I hope you can see that.
He answered back that he didn’t think I was evil, just stubborn.
Once again this kind of thing ruined my entire day. I felt crushed. I cried off and on the entire day. The pastor said things about this man’s wife that would make them hate him. I could share those things and ruin their relationship, but I just don’t think that’s the right thing to do.
I spent the whole day thinking that maybe I had made a mountain out of a mole hill. Maybe the pastor wasn’t so bad, maybe I should just move on and go back. The whole day I thought this... and then someone else who works at the church called. She had to tell me what the pastor had done to her this week. How he had made her feel small and helpless. How he called her in and told her she had to work more, do more. That he was controlling her life while she was working there. And I remembered that I hadn’t overreacted, that he was all of those things and I had to move on for me. Not for ****, for me.
I guess we will go out with them at some point this week. What should I share, what should I keep to myself? This friendship is one I really don’t want to lose.
I want to stand up and say... people I just want to leave, I just want to move on, please let me. I can’t do this forever.
On the other hand my daughter is struggling big time with the idea. After y’all talked last week she came to me a few days later bawling her eyes out saying she didn’t want to leave. I can suck it up and handle anything for my kids. I don’t want to take anything away from her.
Whitney
You can tell by my email that I was grasping at anything I could to save this friendship. If a conversation made it to my counselor’s ears, it meant it weighed heavy on me and I wanted to do things the right way.
That text message our friend sent that said I was holding a grudge and punishing the pastor and my entire family hurt more than anything I had experienced up until that point.
The rules for Covid during that time were strict. My family and I were not even going inside my parents’ house for fear of taking the virus to my mom, one of the high-risk people. She and I walked every day to visit and see one another. That day, May 11, 2020, was rainy and unseasonably cold. We walked anyway. I was wearing my black raincoat, we were standing in front of my mailbox… I was filling her in on everything that was going on, and when I got to the part about me holding a grudge and punishing my family and friends, I just broke down in sobs. I couldn’t even speak. I remember my mom saying, “screw Covid” She grabbed me and hugged me.
As I type this out today, it still makes me cry. My mom’s reaction that day meant the world to me. She offered comfort when I needed it most and in a way that only a mom can.
I did everything the pastor asked me to do. I controlled the narrative. I made him look good in the situation and used the “This is what God told me to do” tactic he taught me. I talked to his prospective children’s minister. I tried to work things out with him. I called him to come to my house. My husband and I did things the Biblical way… yet I was the one who was holding a grudge and punishing people around me.
Let’s just pause for a moment and point out the gaslighting I was also experiencing here.
Read that text message again…
The other side of the equation is this…I can’t comprehend how there is such a divide between the two of you, and how **** is viewed by you as such an under-handed person. He was a close friend of yours at one time , and he still has those qualities that made him a valued, trusted friend! He is human, makes mistakes along the way and has apologized as a friend and former boss to you, but it seems to me that you want to hold a grudge and punish him (and, in turn, your mutual friends as well as family to some degree) versus simply giving forgiveness as we are expected to do as believers. You’re asking me (& *******) to forgive your dishonesty right now yet don’t want to do the same for the pastor. That’s not right. His motives were not deceitful with you any more or less than your actions were with us, yet I can assure you that you’re unequivocally forgiven by me! Now, can you do the same for ****? Do you want me to cite all the Scriptures that are on point or Christian songs that should strike a chord with you? You know them already so don’t be prideful and stubborn! I love you, and I love **** so watching this from a distance is sickening.
Do you feel that? He’s human… makes mistakes… Everyone does that, don’t they? You were both deceitful and dishonest… you want me to forgive you, but you can’t forgive him…
There was zero concern for what had happened to me, but much concern that I move forward and forgive the pastor (which I thought I had already done). I needed a friend… not someone to preach to me, a friend to listen to me, believe me, and forgive me…
I didn’t realize it then, but it’s so clear now. I was reaching out to a friend to confess my wrongdoing, make things right, and explain myself and my reasoning. I never said I didn’t lie, I never said that it wasn’t wrong… but I was coerced by someone in authority over me… and that isn’t a level playing field. I could’ve done things differently. I am an adult. I didn’t have to protect the pastor, but I did, because at the time he had control over my next steps.
And now I was the bad guy, the one who wasn’t forgiving like a Christian should… yet the pastor was given a pass because, well, he was a pastor.
How is anyone in an abusive, controlling, toxic environment ever supposed to come forward? No wonder so many victims are silent. The ones in authoritative positions are given a pass… Who would ever believe that a pastor could be malicious, narcissistic, controlling… but a “disgruntled” children’s minister stirring up lies… well, anyone would believe that.
Do you see how that works? Had I come forward in the very beginning, people might have believed me. But instead, the one in authority over me at the time didn’t allow me to tell the entire truth. He asked me to tell an abbreviated, half-truth version. By the time I had the courage to come forward, he had already created his own narrative. There was nothing I could do.
Maybe I could believe that people I had only known for a few months would believe the pastor over me, but these people had been our friends for 12 years. 12 YEARS! Our kids had grown up together, we had celebrated many milestones together… this wasn’t a tiny thing, but huge. And it hurt, it hurt so, so bad. This was a gut punch.
If these people thought I was a grudge-holding punisher, then most likely, the rest of the church members did too.
It was almost too much to bear. It was like 12 years of my life were gone.
And it was taken away by a pastor, a man of God, a spiritual leader… a person who knew exactly what he was doing… why was I surprised? He was only ever worried about how things looked for him… his image was his only concern.
I think I knew it was over at that moment. What I expected was this friend to say that they were sorry for how I was treated, that they were sorry for all that I had been through, but instead, the blame landed entirely on me.
There are no words for the kind of pain that causes a person. I felt myself slipping into a deep depression. This was not how things were supposed to happen. I just wanted to resign from my job. I wanted to return to Tree Town Baptist. I tried to remain friends with the pastor. I even wanted to keep this friend who was telling me everything I had done wrong, and today I don’t know why I couldn’t see that what they were doing to me was wrong.
At the time, I thought it was all my fault, that I was an evil, unforgiving person. It’s hard to “unhear” those kinds of things, especially when they come from people you respect.
I didn’t think I would ever want to leave Tree Town Baptist. Yet I found myself wanting nothing more than to get away from that toxic environment during this time. It was killing me.
What was happening? How had the place I loved turned into my source of pain?
Covid kept us locked in our homes; the world was a lonely place, and it kept getting lonelier for me.
The time that we waited between these friends’ first text and when we finally could go eat with them was brutal. I only knew they felt lied to and thought I was punishing everyone. I didn’t know any other details. There were no more text messages, only silence, and it was killing me. My imagination was running away with me.
I’ve looked over the pictures on my phone for that time.
I was studying through the book of Psalms at the time. I have a picture of Psalms 94 in my photos…
When I thought “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.
Psalms 94:18 & 19
I was leaning heavily on the word of God to console me.
I was sad, I was angry, and confused. I had no idea what this meeting was going to look like.
I was worried, and this scripture gave me the strength I needed to continue forward.
I also have screenshots of the pastor’s text messages on my phone from when he texted us that his “friends” from another state were visiting. The “friends” that, in turn, became the new children’s minister.
I have a screenshot of the text he sent when he inadvertently told us they were here again on February 3. I was double-checking things. I ensured that the evidence I knew was there, was really there. I needed to know that I wasn’t losing my mind, that if I was asked questions, I would be able to prove that these things really did happen.
I guess I was getting my evidence together so they could see I wasn’t just punishing everyone around me or holding a grudge.
I also have these quotes in my photo library…
“Think about what exists in your life today and ask; do I still want to be having this or dealing with this a year from now.”
Henry Cloud
Another one says,
“Don’t go back to something God already saved you from”
This reminds me that during this time, my heart was heavy. I was struggling… again. It was as if Tree Town Baptist was coming at me from all directions…
I can also tell by these things I have in my photos that I was struggling to know just how far I was willing to go to fix this friendship with these people we had known for so many years.
Was I ready to return to a toxic environment to avoid losing them?
I didn’t want to be. But honestly, I wasn’t near willing to lose everything in my life that had ties to Tree Town Baptist. I didn’t want to lose people. I desperately needed them to believe me.
I felt like I couldn’t handle one more thing… but I would need to handle way more than that before it was over.
Until Next Time,
Whitney