For me, that second week of May 2020 was long and drawn out. I waited all week for this couple to find the time to go with us to dinner. Finally, we were able to come up with a plan to meet Saturday, May 16, 2020.
We made reservations at a nearby restaurant; our table was on the patio, so we wouldn’t need to wear masks the entire time.
When we sat down to eat things were slightly uncomfortable. I couldn’t get the words grudge and punishing out of my head. I was struggling, but I was ready to work things out.
Again, I could sit and type out exactly how that entire conversation went from memory, or I could go back in time and show you. I sent this email to my counselor the morning after the meeting with our friends. This was all fresh on my mind at the time… it’s raw, it’s emotional, and it’s painful. That night was the final straw for us. It was the end.
Dear Dr. ********,
I swear I live in the Twilight Zone. That’s what last night feels like when I look back on it. It went fine. It seemed like things were fine between us when we left, but I’ve thought that before about other people, and I was wrong.
We started off just having a casual conversation, and then ****started asking questions. I told him I would answer anything he had for me. He asked us, first of all why we didn’t trust the pastor’s leadership. So, we explained, Jeremy mostly, about how things had been handled in personnel meetings, I talked about the inconsistencies in the children’s minister’s hiring, what he had told me he was looking for when I left, what he initially said about the girl and then how that changed within a days time. We talked about how his story and the girl’s version didn’t match. We discussed his inconsistency, how his health issues make him up and down and therefore all of the church’s decisions are possibly impulsive and inconsistent based on where he is. These are things they had seen but when we elaborated they seemed genuinely concerned about how much power he had been given and the checks and balances he had removed from the church system. I was actually surprised that they could see that. But **** being the peacemaker he is used that to say we should stay and help keep him in check and help the church watch the pastor’s actions. We told him no. Midway through the conversation **** got a little heated and told me I was punishing the pastor and everyone around me by not just forgiving him and moving on. He said I didn’t take criticism well and I was just holding a grudge. I just took all of that and cried. * said my leaving was punishing the kids in the church, that they needed me there and I wouldn’t understand. She then went on about how past leadership and even this pastor’s had aggravated her but she had sucked it up and stayed to do God’s work. She said because it isn’t about us, it’s about God. I didn’t say much there either. They brought up several other things that we answered as much or as little as we thought was necessary. I could’ve destroyed how they felt about the pastor if I wanted to but chose not to hit below the belt as my husband said.
It was later in the night when ****made a comment about something the pastor had said when I asked him if he had already talked to the pastor about all of this. He answered that of course he had and the pastor was just so confused and just wanted our friendship back the way it was, he missed us….. then he said that the pastor said I didn’t take criticism well, that my evaluation was fair and I couldn’t take anything negative, and then here’s the moment I think I might’ve gotten whiplash by spinning my head around too fast…. he said the pastor told me he had apologized on two occasions, he said he listed everything he had done wrong and apologized but you never said you forgave him or that you accepted his apology.. It was at this moment that I had to really gain control of my emotions. So this is where all of this punishing stuff comes from. It’s all becoming clear. The pastor has convinced them that he has done everything right and I’m withholding forgiveness to punish him. I said ok **** back up the bus, I have to address this. I told him exactly how things went.. I reached out to the pastor on multiple occasions telling him I was struggling, once even asking to come to his office and talk it out, all of these, (documented) conversations brought zero response from him to fix anything. It was only after we asked him to come to our house that any move was made to correct this. I said he sat on our back porch and we talked it all out, he apologized (sort of but obviously not like he had described) I cried, we asked him if we were all good, he assured us we were, we talked about fun things for the next hour, he left and we never heard from him again. Did I say the words I forgive you or I accept your apology, I have no idea… I was emotional, I was crying, I honestly don’t remember what I said but I thought it was at the very least understood. Because the pastor himself said we were good. He kept asking but did you say the words… I said **** we are now arguing semantics, I’m telling you that I don’t remember but my posture was that of acceptance. I wasn’t aware there were magical words I had to say. They kept quizzing me on did I say it… I don’t know what I said in that moment… but I never intended to not accept his apology. They wouldn’t let it go so I said stop just a minute… I spent two months reaching out to MY PASTOR, the spiritual leader of the church who preaches about forgiveness, who’s teaching our children, who’s leading our church and he never once tried to contact me and find out what was wrong.. we finally took the initiative to do the Biblical thing when he failed to do so…. we did exactly what the Bible said to do, we asked him if we were good, he said yes, he left and now this is his story. Could he not have asked well do you forgive me if he didn’t think I did, couldn’t he have called to revisit if he thought I was holding something… come on this is the PASTOR!! Can you not see what he’s doing? Open your eyes. After I repeated that whole thing a few times I started to see them shake their heads in understanding. But what the hell!! How big of a baby is he? This is a whole new level.
On the way home Jeremy and I discussed what we should do. I said, if he feels that way I can be the bigger person, I don’t want this on me. So I sent him a text saying….
It was brought to my attention that I didn’t say that I accepted your apology and that I forgive you. I was overcome with emotion that night and honestly didn’t realize I didn’t say it. I guess I thought it was understood. That was the intention of meeting with you, to work things out. I do forgive you and accept your apology and hope you will also accept mine for anything I’ve done.
His answer this morning was:
Yes, for sure and thanks.
This man has issues. Issues I don’t want to deal with anymore. He needs help and I can’t help him. He’s in over his head, he’s medically and mentally unstable and I wash my hands of it. After last night we were even more clear that we were out. We just want out of the madness.
**** and ******* believe that God’s work is only through the church. They have sold their soul to Tree Town Baptist. They think you just suck it up and stay and I say church has to be a place where you can worship, it’s not a political place.
I think our decision for now is to take this year to rest and breathe. Visit churches on Sunday, send our daughter on Wednesday and not even think about moving our membership or finding a new church. I need a long break. I need more healing.
Whitney
Let me explain things a little more for clarification.
We agreed to have dinner with these friends, and when we sat at the table, we were under the impression that this was the first time they would hear the story. They knew we had talked to the pastor, but we had no idea they had spoken to him about the situation.
In many ways, I felt set up. Like a trap was being laid.
It didn’t change how we handled things or what we said. But I had zero idea they had talked to the pastor until they said he told us that he had apologized two times and you won’t accept his apology. I remember this man saying, of course, we’ve talked to him. He told us the entire story.
I cannot help but go back to the parts where the pastor told this man that I didn’t take criticism well…
“then he said that the pastor said I didn’t take criticism well, that my evaluation was fair and I couldn’t take anything negative,“
I didn’t take criticism well… hmm that’s interesting. And how many layers of abuse can be hidden under the blanket of criticism? That’s a pretty broad statement for what I had walked through that year.
How easy is it for an employer to blame how someone feels based on the fact that they can’t handle criticism?
I’ve walked back through my entire last year at Tree Town, and not handling criticism wasn’t the main issue.
Do I like to be told that I’m doing something wrong? Nope. Do I want to be told that my job performance isn’t up to snuff? Nope… He’s right about that. No one enjoys being told that kind of thing, but contrary to what he believed, I had learned to take positive criticism very well. I wanted to do things better and expand my ministry, knowledge, and skill set. I wanted to improve. Positive criticism is not what I received… please go back and read through 2019 again… was the root of my problem at Tree Town Baptist that I couldn’t take criticism?
This was another one of his tactics to cover his own ass, to shift the blame and the focus away from him.
My evaluation was fair…
Is this the same evaluation he admitted to me that wasn’t fair earlier in 2019? Because he told me he realized it wasn’t fair and offered to redo it. So, which one is the truth? Is he saying to this man that I deserved the original evaluation number? Did he regret changing my score? Did he only change it to pacify me?
And let’s revisit the fact that I couldn’t handle anything negative…
Up until this point, I had controlled the narrative for this pastor. I hadn’t told the real reasons I quit… So, it had taken me until this point in time to come forward with my story. But, he made sure to insert his side before I did.
So, you ask me to control the narrative and not tell anyone why I really left? You asked me to keep the evaluation and everything that puts you in a negative light under wraps to make things look good for you. Then before I can tell my side of things, you control the narrative yourself to suit the story you need out there. And in that story, you tell people I can’t handle anything negative.
Very interesting. Nicely done. It shows true character… bravo.
My intention at dinner with these friends wasn’t to throw the pastor under the bus that night. But, I’m sure that’s what he thought and felt a bit of recon work would help his case ahead of time.
You see, we were still confused. We thought things had gone pretty well with the pastor that night until he never called again. We had no idea that he felt we didn’t accept his apology. We were under the impression that we were good.
Instead of a conversation with friends that night, what I walked into was a “courtroom .”I was left to plead my case and prove my innocence.
The investigation had already taken place, the pastor had already been deposed, and the jury had all but made up their mind.
I was a sensitive, grudge-holding, unforgiving person. Though I had spent years proving to these people that I was none of those things, the pastor had been convincing enough to make them doubt everything they had known about me all those years.
That takes an influential person. A person with an agenda and a plan. A person that’s looking out for number one.
We’ve already discussed that over 30 percent of pastors in the pulpit suffer from narcissistic personality disorder… since we are speaking in legal terms now… do you think there’s enough evidence to prove that this pastor is one of those?
Let’s go back and park at the part where he said we didn’t accept his apology, though he offered it on two occasions.
He spent a month spreading that story. An entire month: while we waited for him to text or call us. That month he made sure that his side of the story was heard by people that needed to hear it.
I wish someone had been videoing my face that night. I could not believe that this was happening. After all, we had gone through to make things right with this pastor, he had even weaponized his apologies. So I’m the one who can’t handle criticism or take anything negative? Ok.
Let me insert that portion of the email here:
I think I might’ve gotten whiplash by spinning my head around too fast…. he said the pastor told me he had apologized on two occasions, he said he listed everything he had done wrong and apologized, but you never said you forgave him or that you accepted his apology.. It was at this moment that I had to really gain control of my emotions. So this is where all of this punishing stuff comes from. It’s all becoming clear. The pastor has convinced them that he has done everything right and I’m withholding forgiveness to punish him. I said ok **** back up the bus, I have to address this. I told him exactly how things went.. I reached out to the pastor on multiple occasions telling him I was struggling, once even asking to come to his office and talk it out, all of these, (documented) conversations brought zero response from him to fix anything. It was only after we asked him to come to our house that any move was made to correct this. I said he sat on our back porch and we talked it all out, he apologized (sort of but obviously not like he had described) I cried, we asked him if we were all good, he assured us we were, we talked about fun things for the next hour, he left and we never heard from him again. Did I say the words I forgive you or I accept your apology, I have no idea… I was emotional, I was crying, I honestly don’t remember what I said but I thought it was at the very least understood. Because the pastor himself said we were good. He kept asking but did you say the words… I said **** we are now arguing semantics, I’m telling you that I don’t remember but my posture was that of acceptance. I wasn’t aware there were magical words I had to say. They kept quizzing me on did I say it… I don’t know what I said in that moment… but I never intended to not accept his apology. They wouldn’t let it go so I said stop just a minute… I spent two months reaching out to MY PASTOR, the spiritual leader of the church who preaches about forgiveness, who’s teaching our children, who’s leading our church and he never once tried to contact me and find out what was wrong.. we finally took the initiative to do the Biblical thing when he failed to do so…. we did exactly what the Bible said to do, we asked him if we were good, he said yes, he left and now this is his story. Could he not have asked well do you forgive me if he didn’t think I did, couldn’t he have called to revisit if he thought I was holding something… come on this is the PASTOR!! Can you not see what he’s doing? Open your eyes. After I repeated that whole thing a few times I started to see them shake their heads in understanding. But what the hell!! How big of a baby is he? This is a whole new level.
I won’t ever forget that moment. I don’t think I’ve ever been as shocked. This was the narrative he had chosen.
This man looked at me that night and, in a very condescending way, said… “Whitney, do you like any pastors”?
This was a loaded question, meant to make me, the person on the witness stand, break. He pointed out that I had issues with previous pastors in my life, and maybe the real problem was me.
I didn’t fall for the tactic and instead began to talk in detail about my childhood pastor, whom I love like a second dad, who believes very differently than I do about things, but I am still close to even today.
It’s true, I’ve had several pastors hurt me in my lifetime. And its also true that I am not perfect, I’m sure I haven’t always handled situations correctly, and I’m sure I could’ve done things a lot differently. But when does the blame ever fall on the pastor? Can’t it at least be shared 50/50?
It was just more gaslighting. If you don’t want to deal with the problem at hand, the easiest thing to do is shift the focus. It was too hard for this man to believe that his pastor could be this underhanded, but it was easier to think about me for some reason.
One more thing I want to focus on is this line….
But **** being the peacemaker he is used that to say we should stay and help keep him in check and help the church watch the pastor’s actions. We told him no.
This man literally said that since we had figured out how the pastor worked, our efforts at the church were even more critical, and we needed to come back to help keep him in check. To point out things he was doing in the church to the deacons and ensure he wasn’t dishonest anymore.
What can I even say? You want us to come back and keep this pastor in line? The one who has lied about us? The one who has treated us so terribly? We need to come back and watch over his actions, so no one else gets hurt for the good of the church. This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard.
My husband and I hugged this couple goodbye. Things were cordial between us. There was no anger left in the conversation. We had returned things back to a good place to part ways. I remember getting in the car and shaking my head. I couldn’t believe what we had just heard.
This is what I did know… if the pastor thought he would spread the idea that I hadn’t forgiven him among the congregation, I would make that story difficult for him to tell. He would have to lie outright to be able to tell it from that point on.
As I mentioned in the email to my counselor, late that night, I sent the pastor the text that said…
It was brought to my attention that I didn’t say that I accepted your apology and that I forgive you. I was overcome with emotion that night and honestly didn’t realize I didn’t say it. I guess I thought it was understood. That was the intention of meeting with you, to work things out. I do forgive you and accept your apology and hope you will also accept mine for anything I’ve done.
Why I was shocked by his answer, I do not know. I thought it would be different than it was for some reason, but it was not to be…Early the next morning, his answer was…
Yes, for sure and thanks.
The next time we would hear from this friend we went to eat with was a voicemail on June 22, 2020. He called my husband one night after we were already in bed. The message was 2 minutes and 15 seconds long. It began with the words, man, you probably looked at the phone and probably saw it was me and screened me out because I’m somehow associated with Tree Town Baptist. It went on to include strange things about him not being able to sleep for the past month, and he had knots in his stomach worrying about all that had gone down. His voice sounded very strange that night. His words were slurred like he was half asleep. He wanted to meet my husband and bring a friend with him to talk things out, to figure out how we could come back. I was welcome, but none of the other wives would be there. (he repeated that several times) He genuinely thought he could talk my husband into coming back without me present… I was the problem.
If we met with them to eat on May 16, 2020, and he was so stressed and worried, why did he wait until June 22 to contact us again? Something doesn’t add up.
I have a copy of that voicemail saved. Maybe I should’ve been a lawyer instead of a children’s minister… When I knew things were headed in the wrong direction, I knew I better hold onto things.
I don’t know if my husband ever returned the call. We weren’t interested in beating this dead horse. We weren’t going back to Tree Town. We wished we could keep our friends, but there was no way we could attend there again.
For the record, I think this friend genuinely thought he could fix things. He thought that if we could just talk things out enough, it would go back to normal. It’s the way he had always been. He liked the semblance of peace, it was just his way.
Here’s what I think happened. I feel like the longer the pastor sat on things, the more worried he became. Then, finally, he realized that we had put the pieces together. He knew that we knew… and we knew too much.
Even these friends realized that we knew too much. Heck, they wanted us to return to Tree Town to help keep him in check.
Before, he thought I needed to return to help train this new girl and keep things the way his created story began. But, in the end, my return was more of a threat than a help. It’s called counting your losses.
The benefit outweighs the risk.
Keeping me gone was safer than me returning.
We knew when he first invited these friends to Tree Town, we knew the timeline, the motivation, the lies, the control…
I think that because of how close we had been to the pastor and his family for the two previous years, the way he had confided in us on so many occasions, and the way we learned exactly how his personality worked… because of these things, he knew we saw right through him. He might be able to hide from other people, but not from us.
If we returned to Tree Town Baptist, it could mean trouble for him.
But, if he could control the narrative and make me into the villain… everything could be different.
So, his story became that he apologized, and I wouldn’t forgive him.
How convenient is a story like that?
And just how naïve do you have to be to believe it?
There was no doubt that we were all out…
Church Hurt… Strike 3.
Until Next Time,
Whitney