This has been an interesting week.
On my way home from church last Sunday, I got a text telling me that the latest Children’s Minister in Tree Town had resigned.
I was slightly shocked, concerned, intrigued, and my heart broke for her. I clearly remember what my resignation felt like. It was one of the most challenging days I’ve experienced. There are so many emotions surrounding it.
Something didn’t seem right about her resignation coming so soon. She came to Tree Town to follow her hero pastor. He had convinced this couple that there was nothing wrong with following him to Tree Town. Timothy had, after all, followed Paul. They moved to a town where they knew no one. They left their families, jobs, and community to move to a town where the only one they knew was this pastor. It seems odd. The whole thing. How she was hired as children’s minister, how they moved, and how they left everything… I’ll admit, I don’t know every detail, only what she told me that night during our 2-hour phone conversation. But anyone could see that this whole thing was strange.
Three years in Tree Town. Three years doing a job in a church, working for this pastor.
Three years… speaking from experience, that’s a long time, a lot of hours, stress, and worry.
But if you loved this pastor so much, why would you leave?
I remember sitting in the pastor’s office that night, questioning why he wanted to hire this young girl. Why was he so intent on placing someone in the position who had no experience? How had this job been offered to someone he was so close to? No one in Tree Town even knew this girl except for him. Why had the job not been offered to local teachers, people more qualified? Was this an inside job? Had he set this up from the beginning? He helped her doctor her questionnaire to make her appear capable… he sold her to the Personnel Committee… and when I asked him why… when I asked him if he had considered that this job with all its stress could destroy this young girl spiritually… his only answer… she’s a blank slate.
A blank slate… how demeaning.
How hurtful.
How terrible.
And for three years, he had his blank slate.
And Sunday, she resigned. For her husband to take a job in another state. And maybe that’s all. Maybe there isn’t any stress in the job that caused her to need to leave. Perhaps they are just moving, and things remain the same between her family and their hero pastor. But it seems strange, doesn’t it?
Wednesday, I found myself listening to a podcast called “Untangled Faith .” In this particular episode, they were discussing how hard it was to have a story and not be able to share it for different reasons. Stories about spiritual abuse and abuse of power… and for years, the ladies on this podcast remained silent about what went on within this Christian organization they were a part of. They talked about how much it hurt to stay silent.
And my mind started racing. And I began to think about this new resignation. I wondered if there was something more to the story… wondered if this young girl could not say what she wanted for fear of being ostracized.
I began to think about how many people had resigned or been fired under this pastor’s leadership of only 5 years.
- The Secretary (April 2018)
- The Worship Pastor (March 2019)
- Me (December 2019)
- Permanent Part Time Music Minister (Sometime in 2020)
- New Secretary (December 2020)
- Children’s Minister (January 2023)
That is 6 people in about 5 years. That’s a significant turnover. And the common denominator is this pastor.
Something isn’t right… 3 of those are people he hired.
The original Secretary was ready to retire. So I don’t think we can blame that one entirely on the pastor.
The pastor straight-up fired the worship pastor. And that whole thing didn’t go nearly like the pastor hoped it would. People didn’t approve of this firing like he thought they might. So the church was left with a lot of questions.
By the time I wanted to resign, the pastor was wringing his hands in worry that people would think he was the reason people were quitting. And that’s when he asked me to control the narrative and make him look good. His words were something like I don’t mean to sound selfish, but this can either look really bad for me or you can help me look good. So if you could maybe just tell people that God wanted you to quit but not mention the other reasons, it would really help me…
If he asked me to do that, would he ask others?
I have no idea why the Permanent Part Time Music Minister quit. I know he was handed a sweet deal, and the pastor wanted to hire him so it would look good for him. Supposedly other churches in the local association had tried to hire him before and couldn’t, so if he could hire this man, it would look good. Remember, this is what he told us when we were standing in his driveway. He wanted this guy. Not because he was the best fit for the church but because it would look good for him.
The new Secretary that the pastor hired resigned in December 2020. The details of this are heartbreaking and cruel, and its effects are life-changing for her and her family. Of all the things this pastor did, this one was the worst. He wanted her to fail, set her up to fail, all because he wanted her gone and didn’t want to fire her. He couldn’t have another one of those on his record.
It seems natural that people would ask if there’s more to this recent resignation.
I remembered this quote that I used in a past blog post…
This asked the questions that needed to be asked in Tree Town. And so, I did what was not the norm for me. I posted it on Facebook with this wording… There’s usually more to the story than the created narrative… #anotheronebitesthedust
I thought it would just sit there. I didn’t know people would take the bait. But they did. They came after me with aggression.
Let me just say something… the hashtag was snarky. It was. It wasn’t my finest moment. It was one of those things I added without considering how it might be perceived. I usually keep all my posts like that on Twitter, where snarkiness is better accepted.
Let me tell you why I regret that hashtag… because it took the attention away from what the post was intended to mean.
These people who commented thought I was speaking in a derogatory tone about this children’s minister… their friend. And I wasn’t. I intended that to mean that yet another staff member had quit under this pastor, and someone should find out why. The words to that song… and another one gone and another one gone…
I wasn’t going after the children’s minister. Remember that I went to bat for this girl before most of these people even knew who she was. I was concerned about her well-being and the dangers of her working for this pastor. I even told her that it was tough to work for your friend, and if things went off the rails, it made things really awkward. I warned her that he was hard to work for early on.
I learned a lot Wednesday… I learned that people who hadn’t spoken to me in almost 3 years were watching my Facebook posts… I learned that people I barely knew would comment quite aggressively and that my son might be even snarkier than me. I learned that there’s one person who really likes hashtags even better than me and that the same person is really good at copying and pasting sermons to try to make a point… ok, that whole section was snarky. I will address some of the things mentioned in that Facebook post later, but I think that is enough for its own blog post.
Still, that entire Facebook exchange was just bizarre to me. I didn’t comment again. I didn’t remove the post because I knew what my motivations were when I made the post. I wanted them to start the conversation in Tree Town. I wanted them to ask this girl if maybe there was more to her story because hiding my story for so long nearly destroyed me.
There are things more important than this job. This girl’s well-being is more important, for sure… and this pastor is not above asking her to control the narrative to cover his ass.
Listen, I had friends, good friends, close friends, who looked me in the eye and asked if I was sure there wasn’t anything else going on when I quit. I controlled the narrative. I made the pastor look good. I didn’t tell them all the things that really went on because I held on to the hope that my family and I could remain friends with the pastor and his family and the church people… we didn’t want to burn any bridges, and the only way to do that was to keep all the things hidden.
I wish I had been bold from day one with all of my heart. I wish I had taken my story to Facebook and told it without holding back. I wish I hadn’t protected the pastor and the church. I wish I had been bold enough to tell it and let the chips fall where they may.
There’s a Facebook group I follow called “Behind Closed Doors.” A youth pastor’s wife is slowly telling the story about her husband’s experiences in churches over the years. How badly they were hurt by the positions they had been in… how corrupt many churches are. And I read her posts and wish I could be as bold and courageous as she is, and hopefully, soon I can.
I’ve kept my blog on Twitter since the beginning, being careful not to cross over to Facebook because I knew I had lots of Tree Town friends on Facebook. I think I’ve subconsciously continued to protect the people and the church. Maybe I hoped that one day they would accept me again. Burning bridges is not my favorite thing to do. But I realize daily that keeping my blog hidden on Twitter isn’t helping. I have a story to tell. Why not share it boldly?
Maybe that Facebook post was my attempt at that… Perhaps I should refine my attempt.
So, do I regret making that Facebook post… I do not. If they are talking in Tree Town, maybe they will get to the bottom of things and fix some issues. I don’t mind being the bad guy. They’ve hurt me enough. They haven’t been a real friend to me anyway. They walked a long time ago.
And I hope and pray they will do more than just go after me on Facebook. I hope they will take that same boldness and ask the questions that need to be asked.
I started this blog hoping to help people hurt by churches. That includes the girl who took my position. Ask her. Ask her if there’s more to the story. Ask her how hard he is to work for. Ask her if she was ever able to do enough to please him. Ask her what staff meetings look like. Ask her who he’s petting. Ask her about his mood swings. Ask her about his inconsistencies. Ask her who he talks about during staff meetings. Ask her how he wrings his hands in worry when he’s concerned about how things look for him… Ask her… give her a private exit interview with him nowhere around.
Ask the questions…
You may find out there’s no more to her story. But, on the other hand, you may find out there is. Maybe she won’t say anything now but will later. Perhaps she will start a blog…
But do your due diligence because keeping your head in the sand doesn’t help anyone…
That’s why spiritual abuse and abuse of power are so rampant in churches… no one wants to know so they can plead ignorance.
Ignorance isn’t bliss…
Until Next Time,
Whitney
Love you!
Love you too!