The Prodigal Daughter

A Comment

2011-05-23T21:41:00.001-04:00

A comment from a reader brought me back to blog a new post. So much has happened since I began this blog - the most exciting is my freedom. I think we only know of our freedom as time passes and it holds true. The most telling change is my new identity. When I think of who I am, I no longer think of the abuse. I was able to let it go as a major part of who I am.

All the folks at my church who knew of my abuse are gone. The pastor moved on to new pastures. The associate has returned to school for a degree in counseling. The only other member with knowledge of my past is taking a sabbatical. For the first time, I am content to tell no one. At one time I had to have the continued reinforcement that I was ok in order to function. I do not need for anyone to know. Neither, do I feel a need to hide the past if it will serve the needs of someone else.

I have restored relationships with those who knew me during those years of turmoil. We have not discussed the past. Perhaps one day it will come up but I have chosen to not reach for their acceptance of me or to defend myself in hopes they will finally "see" the truth. The good times are defining our relationship and it is moving forward. Perhaps one day I will direct them to this blog - but only if I am sure it is needed.

I have been away from therapy for months now. I dropped back in for a session a couple of months ago to work out one issue. I did just that. I didn't reawaken a fear of leaving. Being there didn't cause me to grab hold and hang on for dear life. My craving for approval is so much less that I have managed to lay low and work and stay out of people's hair. I actually managed to stay out of the principal's office for a whole year!

My life now centers on my husband, my family, my job, and my hobbies. My relationship with God is integrated into all areas of my life. I once again truly believe in a righteous Father and a merciful and grace filled savior.

I still think of writing a book. I knew I had to reach a healthy level of freedom before I tried to do that.

Blessings out there in the blogging world. Yes, there is freedom and healing from abuse.

Victory

2010-08-07T20:53:00.001-04:00

Each little victory over shame deserves a trumpet blare.

A few months ago, a very old friend who became entangled in my abuse story contacted me through facebook. My heart raced.

For years I had traveled back to my home town, always fearing who I would meet. The shame I carried was so encompassing that I was nauseas at the thought of running into those who knew my "secret". But this time, contact came easier. I reached out to a few others who I found on her friend list. Some seemed glad to hear from me, others not. One had forgotten I existed.

These reconnections have given me the opportunity to find my identity in the present and not in the past. And, I have done it!

I have fought so hard for this freedom. I never really believed I could get here.

Leaving It Behind

2010-07-12T09:47:00.001-04:00

"Leaving It Behind" was a constant nudging from Stephen during my year + of therapy. I saw myself through the abuse. It was a large part of my identity. Being unfinished business, I was driven to tell others about it in order to receive the acceptance I could not give myself. Years ago I hid it, out of shame, but the wound finally burst open and it became something I HAD to talk about to those closest to me. As 10 years of therapy progressed the need to receive other's acceptance decreased.

This blog was started out of a need to be heard. At first I emptied my soul. Over time, the drivenness decreased and writing became an obligation. My posts have become less because my need is less. Thus I have written little of my time with Stephen.

The reason I worked with Stephen was his "pastoral" label. I needed to finish up with a pastor and Stephen was the one - though I had a hard time at first convincing him of that. My fiasco with Paul, my persistence, and my belief God had sent me to him finally convinced Stephen to make the time to see me on an extended basis. The very fact that I could persist and not crumble at his reticence to extend himself further in an already busy schedule, signaled an inner strength I had gained through years of work.

Stephen's nudging to "leave it behind" directed my thoughts toward a life in which my identity was found in the present. That is how God sees us. Like taking off a thick and heavy coat, allowing it to fall to the ground, and walking forward lightly clad in the warmth of God's present day; I have left behind my old identity.

New wine. New wine skins.

Staying Present

2010-06-18T19:27:00.005-04:00

I ended my therapy with Stephen - both a time for celebration and grief. Trusting my gut, I feel finished for now. Not having written a lot during this year of working with him, I thought it would be good to jot down a few of the important things I learned. Some of these are "staying present", "it is all about relationship", "living life to it fullest honors God," "calling on mercy" and "leaving it behind".

Perhaps, the most impacting lesson was "staying present". Focusing on the actual moment I am living reduces my stress when anxiety hits. Staying present also allows me to avoid mental journeys to places I do not want to go. At first this was a very difficult idea to practice. My mind chose to do anything but to stay in the immediate.

Growing up, I used my imagination to meet many of my emotional needs. I continued to do so in my adult life, if not to the same extent. These journeys into the worlds I created became an escape from the present and a place that soothed me inside. They always involved authority figures and my interactions with them. Many times it involved sexual dynamics of acceptance and desire. These journeys became an addiction.

With abuse came another expression of this addiction. A longing seemed to explode up and out of me whenever I related to anyone in an authority position. This longing for attention.......approval........acceptance......recognition ruled my internal life. The hunger was intense. It was tormenting. I feared I would do something, anything to satiate my hunger.

In my early years of therapy, the addiction to this authority approval, governed my thoughts 90% of my free time. Since I was back in college, studying took over a hunk of my thoughts and was my one place of relief. No wonder I made A's. The rest of my mental energy involved relating to my therapist, Cheryl. I was enamored with her. I fell in love with her. I thought constantly about her. I was the child in love with the mother. Years passed and with therapy the addiction decreased. I grew up - more slowly than I wished - and little by little thoughts tended to stick less on authority figures. But, it wasn't gone.

Stephen called it an addiction. I had called it that with previous therapists but no one else had. Stephen named it but didn't judge it. It was a fact and we talked about it as such - always with God's grace and love surrounding it. Naming it was the first step towards freedom.

Staying present fights the addiction when it begins to rumble inside. Having found that safe place inside of me, focusing on the present and "going home" to that safe place breaks the urge to run to imaginings. When I feel drawn to authority and my thoughts long to go there, I focus on the present - what I have, who I am, where I am, what I am doing.

Learning to stay present was the first strategy Stephen offered me. Interestingly, staying present is not something he was taught, but something he stumbled on in his own struggles in life. A pearl he learned and offered me. A pearl that has helped set me free.

A Safe Place

2010-05-31T20:24:00.007-04:00

Several months ago, as I was reading The Shack and dealing once again with my shame, it suddenly dawned on me that I was not a mistake. There was nothing wrong with me. As I stumbled upon the truth (once again), I was overcome with an unbelievable peace.

"There is nothing wrong with me!"

That is really not true on the every day level, but I meant it from the sense of my being-ness. I am who I am and there is nothing wrong with me as a person. I have always believed there was a critical flaw in my "being". I was mistake. "There is something wrong with me," has rung throughout my head whenever conflict in life found me.

Abuse left the branding seal on that lie. I have dealt with layer beneath layer of this false belief as I journeyed to the truth. What I have found in the truth is an amazing home inside of me where I am safe. I practice living in and out of this safe place. I invite the Holy Spirit to dwell there with me. And, I have found that my own brain can betray me and steal from me the safe retreat.

My mind has always created its own make believe world where I could find comfort, but it wasn't real and it lasted only as long of the imaginings. As I filled my dreams with being wanted by a man in leadership, someone looked up to and respected; my dopamine centers flooded me with comfort. My illicit thought life became my drug of choice.

I enjoyed my new found peace. Then life assaulted. Finding myself in a period of elevated anxiety, I leaned back into the dopamine filled fixes; only to discover that the make believe took from me the true safe place within me. I felt guilty for the thoughts that once again included my therapist. I tried to walk away from them but I hungered for the fix. I found it almost impossible to not return to my dream world even though I knew it was empty and just left me longing for more. I knew this internal battle was the battle of my life.

I shared my thoughts with my therapist. Stephen helped me to see that my make believe lives have been my way of coping with the internal anxiety, anxiety built upon the belief that there is something wrong with me. As I sought what I believed I needed, the dopamine centers in my brain released the fix. Comfort. So when comfort was not found in life and the infants internal axiety roared, I sought the fix.

"You will see the truth and the truth will set you free." Once again freedom comes with truth. Seeing it all as a chemical addiction has helped me walk away from the false and into the reality of my true self.

Litigation

2009-11-02T20:00:00.003-05:00

I just read where the Savannah, GA diocese of the Catholic church has settled with a victim for over 4 million dollars. Whoa - that is a lot of money!

My first reaction was to think of what I had lost for not calling a lawyer years ago. I think my realization that the relationship was abusive, probably qualified me to sue even though many years had passed. Only, when did I fully realize that? I remember hearing it in therapy with Cheryl. I heard it most recently from Stephen. Somewhere between the two, in the 9 year expanse, I was able to grab hold of that truth. You know, like hanging on to the bull's horns to keep from being eviscerated.

Maybe now, I am healthy enough to withstand the intensity of litigation. Now. Now that many years have passed since that window closed.

So, the Bobs go to South America on hunting trips and the Di's pay for therapy and medication. Perhaps one day the legal window will not exist where abuse is concerned. I can imagine that would cause some perpetrators to think a little harder about their actions.

Blame

2009-10-29T18:41:00.003-04:00

I get it! I get it! I understand why God watches us suffer. I understand that he doesn't just watch; he feels it all with us. I understand that he protects, at all costs, our freedom to choose. I understand that if we lost our freedom, we would loose our God because His love cannot exist without our freedom to choose it - or reject it. We wouldn't just lose our God; we would lose ourselves. What a cost! What a dilemna! What pain!

He didn't just bear our pain for a few hours on the cross. He bears it now. He bears it long ago. And he bears our anger at Him, our blame of Him. He bears it all because we must have our freedom or His creation ceases. Agape cannot exist without the freedom, everyone's freedom. And everyone's freedom brings heartache and loss and grief and suffering and emptiness and hatred......... and love.

If he stops the freedom, in order to protect us from hurting, then he hurts us eternally. We lose our existence. And so, he goes to all extremes to protect our freedom. Then, why would anyone choose to create, knowing they would be creating such pain for themselves and for us?

Perhaps the answer is in our beloved-ness. That is who we are to Him. Not just loved, but the place he chooses to deposit his own identity - his own Agape. This love must be so great to warrant experiencing this pain.

I want to fathom that love.

Why I Needed a Pastor as a Therapist

2009-10-28T18:24:00.006-04:00

I knew I needed a pastor as a therapist! I knew Stephen was the right one! I also fumbled, on multiple occasions, with the words to explain this to Stephen. But today, what has rumbled in my gut, came to light in my head.

Three years ago, after I ran across Stephen's name in a book on forgiveness, I emailed and he replied. For a week we volleyed email back and forth. His response to my story of abuse was a comment that went something like this: "Abuse distorts the natural longing of a woman for a pastor."

That statement caused all sorts of stirrings inside of me. I was intrigued with hope and smothered in fear. When I asked him what he meant, Stephen directed me and my question to my therapist of the time, John. But John, had no more of a clue to what Stephen meant, than I did.

Stephen's statement scared me. For me, longing was nowhere near natural. The two words didn't belong together. The "longing" I felt for the attention of those in spiritual authority, or any kind of authority, enslaved me. It held me captive and the guard was my own fear, fear of falling once again into an illicit relationship. The longing equalled pain. Was I stuck forever in this longing?

Stephen's statement also beckoned me to discover exactly what natural longing must look like. Could something I felt be normal? The fact that a woman could long for a pastor and that be a good thing was foreign. Could I ever accept as normal my longing to work with Stephen? Could it be true that I was denying myself some good Agape love out of the fear of this longing?

Nine years ago I began a long relationship with my first therapist, Cheryl. One of Cheryl's greatest contributions was to teach me to hear what I was telling myself and then to adjust it. That process was arduous. To change the pathways formed in your brain over a lifetime does not come easily. In little ways Cheryl taught me that I was normal - but her "normal" kept getting hung up on my fundamental conservativism that said her belief was humanistic and subtlely evil.

So, I chucked God.

The fruit was there. I got better. If the fruit was there, then it must be good. Only, I couldn't weave it into my faith.

In time, I had to move on. My years of finishing my teaching degrees ended, and with it, all that wonderful free therapy with Cheryl. One time, I figured that between my individual work with Cheryl and the couple's work we did with Dan, I had saved about $100,000!

Briefly, upon leaving Cheryl, I saw John, but once Dan had an opening in his private practice, I hopped back on his couch. Dan is cool. We were a great fit. If I wanted to feel at home and comfortable, I'd have never left him. However, Dan and I both realized, after a time, that what I finally needed to work through wasn't happening with him. I knew where I needed to go. I had known my time with Stephen was "planned". The problem was convincing Stephen.

But why did I need Stephen, and why couldn't I finish this up with Dan? That was the topic of a couple of pointed sessions with Stephen. "Didn't Dan have enough love?" I was at a loss to explain to Stephen why I needed him. I just knew I did and through it all I had learned to trust my gut. Somewhere in there, either God or me or both of us, convinced Stephen to give me time he didn't have to offer.

I knew it wasn't that Dan didn't have enough love. What I didn't know was that the missing piece was Dan's lack of a passionate relationship with God while simultaneously believing he wasn't a rotten filthy piece of crap . My very conservative faith had told me that inside, I was just that - rotten and filthy and garbage. My paths in life had reinforced it. That is why I believed I needed Christ, because I was human and humans stunk and I stunk the worst of all of them. I mean I screwed 2 pastors, come on, I must stink.

Earlier Stephen had asked why I would fear the agape love of relationship or deny myself that love? I just kept thinking - you just don't know how screwed up I am inside. Then Stephen started telling me that there wasn't anything wrong with me. He kept telling me that I was fine and why didn't I move on and let go of this process. There I was trying to convince him that I wasn't fine - only the truth was that I was fine; I just wasn't finished! There is a definite difference.

Stephen's passionate love for life and Christ just kept drawing me. I learned to live in the present moment. I learned that my life fully lived honors God. I learned that by living in the present I could avoid the painful longing but it was a hell of a lot of work.

Why couldn't I just rest in that sweet love that Stephen seemed to live in. I remembered what it tasted like. I had experienced that endearing relationship before, before the abuse and my demented way of seeing myself through the shame stole it from me. For 8 years I worked with secular counselors because I didn't trust anyone who represented God. And for 8 years they helped me. They taught me. They cried with me. They accepted me. But, I still couldn't have my faith and my belief that my humaness was good.

My faith said I was a wretched sinner. My history said that something was terribly wrong with me. Those beliefs didn't align with therapy. Isn't that human of you, Diane? What are you telling yourself? What would you tell someone who was your friend? Do they deserve this self flagellation? My therapy said no, I don't deserve this self hate. My faith said I did.

The truth that being human involves weakness wasn't balanced with the truth that we are created in God's image and are beautiful in his sight. For me, that "in His image" stuff was a minor foot note to the pages of wretched dissertation scratched out in my heart.

There was something terribly wrong with me.

Three weeks ago, I read Stephen's writing on the Orthodox church and how their focus is not on sin as a blackness within us, but sin as our choices. I read where they see life, death, and hell differently from those conservative beliefs I have had. Yet, no one I have known has carried the Spirit of Christ like Stephen. God is on him, in him, through him and it is sweet and undeniably God. In Stephen I had seen a passionate committed love of Christ function side by side with a healthy acceptance of self and others. He modeled truth to me until it finally crashed through the shame.

Suddenly everything everyone had been saying to me all these years broke through the false mirror. "There is nothing wrong with me," came out of my mouth and in its place a peaceful sweet presence of God flowed in.

There is nothing wrong with me, if I choose to adjust my faith. There is nothing wrong with me, if I look at the Bible through the lens of culture and the humaness of those who wrote it. I can believe it is inspired without feeling guilty for not covering my head or keeping my mouth shut in church. For 8 years, I have not been running from God, but from what I now believe were lies.

...........I think the prodigal daughter is home.

The Rules Don't Apply to Me

2009-10-17T09:55:00.003-04:00

I sent Stephen another email. I forgot to tell him in our session yesterday that I had forgiven Paul. Then, after I sent it, I wondered why do I do that?

Stephen is not condemning of my email, but he does remind me he has asked me not to do therapy via email. Email is for scheduling only. He handles me with mercy while presenting the rule. Funny, but last time he actually did a little therapy himself in the form of reassurance prior to reminding me of the boundary. Every once in a while the boundary has a little flexibility in it, but he holds it for my sake as well as his.

I do not do boundaries very well when it comes to those in power positions. I tend to function out of the belief that the rule doesn't apply to me. I was wondering why when it hit me, "Well, duh!"

In the abusive relationships, the connection told me I was special and I needed to hear that. To believe the rules didn't apply to me allowed my mind to separate from the truth. Boundaries are there for a reason and the reason was to protect me. Instead, I see boundaries as the right to deny me. Denial of something I want, need, and deserve. Ouch!

I am more important than Stephen's other clients. I am more important than his time in preparation to work with other counselors in training. And under that lie.......?

Well, I know this much. God will bring his truth and healing and He will do it much the way Stephen handles me - with truth and grace.

Sexual Misconduct Policy Committee

2009-10-08T19:58:00.002-04:00

In past blogs I mentioned my hope of meeting with the Sexual Misconduct Task Force from the Disciples of Christ region. I knew a task force had been appointed to look into issues I had complained about 2 1/2 years ago. I had been told they would contact me, but when it didn't happen, I let it go. My identity is no longer founded in the past abuse. I really wasn't eager to stir it up again.

This past May I was contacted once again and this time they asked to meet with me. Having already been provided with my written suggestions, the committee had begun a rough draft of the new policy. I was sent a copy to review. Parts were good, parts needed work.

One issue I pushed for was immediate psychological testing of anyone accused of misconduct. How easy abusers pull the wool over people's eyes. Other issues included an open policy concering information provide by the accused. When I made my report, it was read verbatum to the minister, but I was not allowed access to his response. I felt abused again by the church. I was being exposed and he was being protected.

Years went by after my reporting him until my disatisfaction lead to my confrontation of him 2 years ago. So much emotion was ripped back open.....though it was a good experience for me and I have since moved on in ways I might never have.

This summer committee listened intently to my suggestions. I was shown very obvious respect and kindness. It was a good experience. I hope the new policy will help others in my shoes. It should be completed and voted on this November. I should probably write and ask for an updated draft. Whatever the end product, a victim and the church met and agreed on a great deal. It was good to experience unity and God's love in such a way.

Done that Learning Thing

2009-10-07T21:07:00.006-04:00

Been learning a lot!

Maybe the most useful new tool is "living in the present". I discovered, that if left to what happens naturally, I spend most of my time thinking about tomorrow, real or fiction, or rehashing the past. My mind seldom embraces the details of the moment - the air I breathe, the blueness of the sky, the touch of the computer keys, the presense of those I love.

I have discovered when panic hits, the key to calming my mind, is bringing myself present. When the aching longing of someone's approval reverberates within, I bring my focus to the present and the longing eases. There isn't much room for lies in the present. It simply is.

Did you ever think about it honoring God when we live in the moment? This is what He created us for. This moment is what He lived and died for. Where is abundant life? In the past? In the future? In my imaginings? No, it is right now in the present. I presently live in His presence. To live life fully honors His gift of sacrifice for us. He died so we might have life more abundantly. Not in the pie in the sky by and by, but now - this moment.

A real eye opener for me - living life fully, honors God. Or is it - living life, fully honors God? Or - living, life fully honors God?

The Shame is Shattered

2009-10-06T19:51:00.003-04:00

I have been meeting with Stephen now, on and off, since last January. Working with him has been challenging. He is a pastor - or once was - and now functions in pastoral ministry within the counseling office. His eyes light up as he talks about agape and our God.

Stephen prays. He prays a lot. I think he would say that he prays continuously. As I enter his office, I smell the scent of incense he has burned in his last moments before God. In some ways this has been intriguing and in other ways it has challenged my alienation from God in a most uncomfortable manner.

Slowly my relationship with God has returned. I first began praying again on a regular basis. I found it easier each time we met to talk about God moving in my life. But the best just happened. The shame is shattered.

I have envied Stephen's connection with God. It is so real and so accepting and so filled with an uncanny understanding of God's love. He breathes it in and out and, well, I have never seen anyone so enamored with the presence of God. There is no judgment in his having this and my not but rather a constant encouragement to see what I do have - it is there, don't you feel it, see it experience it? I have had that at times in life but never with this foundation that seems so unrockable. Instead, shame has always rocked my foundation.

Two weeks ago I began rereading The Shack. Having signed up for a discussion group at my church, I read and highlighted and turned down the corners of every important page. Passages leaped off the pages - things I had failed to see in the first read. But the overall issue wouldn't go away. Like Mack, I did not believe God was good, nor did I trust him. I judged Him guilty and I hated him for abandoning me. I could not reconcile my pain with God's mercy. I knew all the rationalizations of free will and God's creation but it didn't change my anger at God.

And, little by little God bored down into the pit of my soul.

After the abuse and over the years of dealing with it, I was smothered with a lie. The lie said "there is something terribly wrong with me." As I tried to embrace the truth that what happened to me was abuse and not my fault, I rattled the cage of that lie. I even disassembled it in my adult heart. Yet, deep deep down, underneath it all, formed before I had the power of language, I had first believed that lie; and still hidden,without words to speak it, the lie hissed its insidious poison.

Something was horribly wrong with me and I could not face that "truth" that was really not truth. I hated myself and that wrongness of my being but hating oneself cannot be held within for long, so I turned that hatred outward. Someone must be blamed, so I blamed God.

With pounding fists, the child lay across the mattress, screaming into her pillow. "I hate you God!" "I hate you God!" I remembered doing this throughout my childhood but I didn't remember why. I only knew I ended up there from time to time. For the past 9 years I have lived with that hatred in my conscious. Then this past weekend I realized my hatred of God was my defense from facing that false truth of something is terribly wrong with me. As I realized the truth that nothing IS wrong with me, the shame crumbled and I was flooded with the most wonderful sense of God's presence that I have ever known. It wasn't a knock me down kind of presence but one that carried only love. One without the shield of my own shame to block it. It felt kind of like a warm bath.

With the shattering of the shame has come my forgiveness of God and others that I could not find the ability to forgive. Shame always prevents us from forgiving, for someone must be to blame. We cannot handle shame so we project our anger onto others and mine was best projected onto God. Rather than hate myself, I hated Him.

The lie was exposed. The shame shattered. The hatred of God dissipated because it no longer served any purpose. What a sweet, sweet relationship I have drunk of these past few days.

An Ending and a Beginning: Termination of a Therapeutic Relationship

2009-02-17T11:09:00.007-05:00

I have been quiet for a reason lately. My sessions with Paul became harder and harder for me to do. He pushed me to express anger that I could not express. I did not understand why I couldn't express it. The more he pushed the more I shut down.

Paul is very literal in his interpretation of psychoanalysis. He would not allow me to focus on him in any way. I was not allowed to even look at him. Any reference to his being there evoked the rhetorical question, "Why are you focusing on me, Diane?" Unbeknownst to either of us, I was trying to get at the transference that was building daily in me towards him. By preventing my focus on him, he essentially prevented me from discovering the block I was facing and to do the work I needed to do. He seemed to grow more and more frustrated with my inability to do any real work in his office, and yet, he was the reason I couldn't do it.

As we looked at past situations in my life where I had allowed people to verbally chastise me, I realized that I was allowing the same thing once again but this time in therapy. I knew I had never been able to face the pain of the loss and often accepted the abuse instead of the loss.

In our last session in December, as Paul continued to press me to release the anger I felt, I became fully silent. I knew it was time to sever what was becoming more painful and abusive than helpful. It was time to face the pain of the loss. I emailed Paul and severed my ties with him.

Over the next 5 weeks I read Lang's book on psychoanalysis (a huge book that is force fed to psych students) to try to obtain some understanding of what had happened. As I read I found over and over Lang's reference to resistances of the client and the importance of finding their source.

My resistances had been enormous and Paul's seeking them non-existent. With a little help from my old and faithful therapist, Dan, I unraveled the issue and my transference. I still do not understand how Paul could have missed this.

I despise manipulation, and that hatred formed largely in my relationship with Bob, my first abuser. Paul, unknowingly, tapped into that dynamic. Subconsciously, the more Paul manipulated me to express the anger, the more I dug in my heels. Since the whole issue was subconscious, I could only watch in disbelief as I seemed to be failing at therapy - something unheard of for me. As I realized how thick the transference had been, I began to feel some release as well as some real anger towards Paul's lack of help in the matter.

One instance with Bob, all those years ago, seemed to define it all. In anger I had charged at him, only to be forced face down in the dirt over and over. Subconsciously, I refused to verbally charge at Paul. I had sworn no one would ever have the chance to humiliate me in such a way. I would never give someone that control over me that I gave Bob when I lost my self control and released the anger.

Two weeks ago, I went in to face Paul. While I hoped he would quietly listen and own up to some of his own mistakes and maybe even feel some pain for the humiliated 17 year old, I met a completely different reality. For the first 10 minutes we argued heatedly over my focusing again on him. Since I was past the resistance from the work I had done during the 5 weeks that had passed, I was able to do what Paul had tried to get me to do for months. I stood up to him and forced him to listen to me. At one point I told him he was an idiot! It was not pleasant but I stood my ground well. He finally heard me explain the transference and allowed me to express my frustration in his lack of seeking out the resistance. He refused to apologize with the reason being that was not what happened in therapy - we were not friends and the therapeutic relationship works on a different model - at least his does. I have no doubt had it been Dan, the apology would have come without any big deal and we would have moved on.

I left with Paul's pronouncements that I would never get better if someone gave me the comfort I wanted. Oddly, I got home to two of the most comforting emails I could have received, from two other therapists. They did not seem to agree with his view. One of those therapists is the pastoral counselor I tried to get in to see prior to seeing Paul. He actually refered me to Paul. Stephen read the letter I carried to the session with Paul, just in case I found myself blocked again from speaking my thoughts. Stephen's response was that my letter was a tremendous gift to Paul. My response to Stephen was that Paul didn't see it that way.

Stephen invited me to come and sit down with him when I was ready. He would commit a limited number of sessions to talking with me. I went yesterday. Interestingly one of his comments referred to my blog. He sees my writing here as exposing myself needlessly and possibly causing myself harm. I have not been aware of any hurt but I am giving it some serious thought.

I get few responses via this site though I have readers that I know come here regularly. My intent from the beginning was to give others a chance to see inside of my heart and soul so they knew they were not alone. That was a major fear of mine as I began this journey of healing. I thought I was the only person on this earth who was so screwed up and who felt the confused emotions I felt.

The anonymity of the blog, with the exception of about 5 close friends, seems protective.

I am asking you to reply to me with your thoughts. Is what I share helpful? Do you feel less alone? Is there purpose in it?

A Different Type of Predator

2008-12-20T20:47:00.004-05:00

Bam, crackle, smash....the sound came from the screened in back porch and the birds were screeching wildly. Kiwi and Lemonade, my two cockatiels love the back porch where they can perch freely here and there and fly about at their whim. They sometimes panic in the dark but not in the middle of the day. What could have startled them?

Opening the back door, the answer flew past me to perch on the screen - a small hawk. Kiwi and Lemonade were scuttling all over the area. We went after them to make sure they didn't end up as lunch for this predator. Squawkkkkk, but they let us pick them up, though my husband was pierced severely by Lemonade's beak. She did not intend to go down without a fight!

After releasing them into the house and seeing that they could fly, we took on the hawk. The screen on one side of the porch was torn, but it couldn't seem to find its way back out. Amazingly, it let me pluck it off the screen after attempting to escape twice. With its mouth open wide, its eyes glaring into mine, it rested limply in my hands. I scratched its head as I do the cockatiels and felt its wings relax a little. Its little heart was beating rapidly in my hand.

I took it outside and set in on a stump. Our worries that it was wounded from the repeated crashes into the screen were eased as it spread its wings and swooped up into the tree next door.
Bye little one. Next time you are hungry.......go look for a mouse!

We think it is an immature red shouldered hawk. That seems the closest match in the bird book. We have a pair in our area and knew they had nested this past year. I think we just met their offspring!

Di

A Blessing

2008-11-24T21:05:00.002-05:00

My relationship with Paul has changed. For the first few weeks, he was no different from a secular therapist. There was no reference to his own pastoral position or to God. I was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten why I began seeing him. Then, last week he began to zero in on the block I have towards God. He suggested I read Genesis chapter 32, where Jacob wrestles with the angel/God.

I felt a sudden sense of warmth as he took a more pastoral role - a warmth that scared me. I began to explore my feelings towards God and found a mass of anger and hatred that I began expressing as a youth.

"I hate you, God" was the cry of my heart when I ran to my room angry at my parents. I can't remember what sent me there or why my hate seemed aimed at God, but for the present I find hate over a world that seemed to tell me that I was broken and unacceptable. I hated being a girl in a man's world.

With a mother who had little to give and a dad who could only affirm the masculine within me, I went without the blessing of my parents. I did not fit their mold. Neither did I fit the world's or the church's.

For a few days this past week I allowed myself to feel the hate, but one can only hate at that intensity so long without being drained. As I moved away from the turmoil, I found other discomfort. My thoughts went to Paul - to his pastoral care of me - to his approval. Lust for his approval and attention began to rise. And being human, the lust moved on to the sexual. Understanding my own human nature and no longer flagellating myself for such thoughts, they move on.

Today, as Paul and I talked of all this, I discovered how good it is to have a relationship with someone in a pastoral role who is also a therapist. He understands that I talk from my gut or my "gizard" as he calls it. I do not have to explain myself or try to protect him from my raw self.

Today he read Psalm 22 to me. How warm and absolutely terrifying to me - all at the same time. Can I relate to him in a pastoral way?

If I ever can, this is where I think I will learn it.

Enjoying Freedom

2008-11-02T20:26:00.003-05:00

It is good. I am smiling all over, inside and out, as I fill up my skin, snuggly and warm. Longing for oneself is so much nicer than longing for something that it unobtainable. I am here full, complete and at peace. Taking time to enjoy it has seemed important.

Now, how does this new becoming affect my relationship with God?

I began that relationship at the age of 17 with the intense longing for something outside of myself that spoke to my soul love, attention, and belonging. Disenchantment grew as nothing of God, the church, or anyone else for that matter filled that longing.

Anger remains. I imagine it will need airing out.

God is silent. Or is He? Who asked that question of me, "What if it is not Paul you are longing for? What if you are longing for yourself?"

Who stirred my heart to return to counseling and to seek a minister as a therapist?

Who has led me down this path for the past 8 years? 8 years? Why, if this is God, did He make it so dang hard and so very long? I have suffered and struggled. I have been shaken to my core. I am angry that this has been so arduous. I want life to be easy. Is that too much to ask?

Stupid songs we sing at church - I am the potter, You are the clay..... I surrender all...... Are we nuts!?

All of these are rambling thoughts but somewhere in them is my future.

Options

2008-10-31T21:51:00.003-04:00

My time in therapy was good and challenging this past week. I shared the news of my breakthrough and celebrated it a little. As I expected, Paul was slim with his praise but managed to get a little in via a "Now why would you ask me what I think, Di, when you obviously know how big this is." That was enough. It was as big as I thought.

My response to him was that he was the shrink - not me. When he asks me "Now why would you want to focus on me," I have started responding with the reason and the reason is often not so stupid as he makes me feel it sounds. I figure if I actually answer his question, maybe he will quit asking it. It is really irritating.

We pushed on to some more recent woundings within the walls of the church. Woundings I am not free to share the details of right now. Suffice it to say that I find myself seeing difficult situations as having two options - all in or all out, right or left, yes or no, truth or lies, black or white, etc.

During a recent encounter with a couple of folks, I felt I had two choices, to take the full blame for a situation I was only partly to blame for, or to defend myself revealing confidences I had promised to keep. I chose to keep my promise of silence and take the blame. Paul seemed to think I had sold myself out. I felt like I had quieted the flow of anger and opened the door to allow myself to speak. The words of anger had been torrential. They stopped and I was listened to once I took the blame.

As I discussed the painful situation, Paul challenged me to come up with some other options. I couldn't. He pushed. I still couldn't, so he gave me homework to come up with 10 other options. TEN! I exclaimed! You have got to be kidding!

I guess I have always seen things black and white from the time the second pastor pressed me for a kiss. Only recently had I shared with he and his wife my previous encounter with my youth pastor. Instead of ministry I opened the door to more abuse. When it came, I felt I had two choices, after all I had lost everything with his advance. One, I could walk away from his influence in my life and find another spiritual home; or I could go along with his advances. Even now I have a hard time imagining other options. Were there really more than two?

Freedom

2008-10-26T20:23:00.004-04:00

This week began with two sessions in the shrinks office. Determined, I sought to get at the feelings Paul wanted me to experience.

How does it feel to see oneself as defective? What is it like to be shut down by yourself, to be told you cannot be yourself? How is it to tell oneself that you cannot be real?

I only pulled a blank to his questions. I was confused. My mind blank, my ability to verbally respond was silent. That which comes so easy for me had deserted me and all I found was emptiness. Me - who is seldom at a loss for words found myself unable to speak.

Paul pushed on until the end of the session but I could not break free. I could not connect with any of those emotions. All I felt was silence and confusion.

Then, at home, the first lightbulb came on. I would begin by yelling out to the world that I was finished being silent. The child who ran to her room angry, who was left alone with that anger, who eventually denied the anger and with it her right to express it, was choosing to voice that anger.

I called Paul and went back into therapy for day two. I yelled. I yelled to the world beyond his door. I yelled that I was not going to be silenced any longer. I yelled for the child. It was kind of fun. I talked about how it felt to have been told repeatedly in life that being myself was not acceptable. I didn't lack for words. But, when Paul asked me once again how it felt to silence myself or to be silenced by myself, I sat like a knot on a log - very silent.

It was frustrating, though he assured me I would get there. He also informed me that he would be out of the office the remainder of the week.

That evening the truth suddenly sank in. It was ME, not the world who was silencing me. It was no longer my parents, the church, or society who told me to be quiet and rock no boats. I know this sounds like a given - surely I must have realized that before - and I had - at one level. Now at a deeper level, the realization stunned me. All these years, the anger I had felt towards the universe was my own. It was me who was telling me that I could not be myself.

That is when I saw the picture of the two me's fighting that I described in the last post. Fear wrestled with anger. The fear of reprisal and rejection causes one part of me to try to silence the other. The other responds forcefully and angrily and spews that anger everywhere she speaks.

The realization humbled me. Sadness came. I thought about it, finally able to feel and trying to wrap my mind around all the feelings that I will need to express to Paul in therapy tomorrow. I knew that now I could answer his questions and was anxious to get on with it. Very anxious, like a claustrophobic in an tunnel is anxious to get out.

The old torment had begun. Slowly at first and then with immense intensity, I longed to be in Paul's office. I NEEDED to talk with him. I could not get my mind off of therapy. I HAD to be there. I hungered and thirsted for his attention. I was desperate.

At first I decided the thoughts of Paul were my mind's way of avoiding dealing with the pain of my self rejection but it grew nevertheless to agonizing proportions . Finally with the lust for Paul's nurture and attention at levels I have not experienced since the beginning of therapy with Cheryl 8 years ago, I had enough. I spoke out loud. "I will not go through again. I will quit. I was doing fine without Paul and I WILL NOT put myself through this kind of torment again."

Then I heard these words "What if the longing you feel isn't for Paul? Di, what if it is really yourself you are longing for?" With those two questions the shocking reality hit. Like a rubber band that is stretched to its limit and pops back to sting its shooter, so the truth stung me. In that moment I stretched my mind around the truth - it is myself I am longing for.

As the moment of clarity snapped into place, the horrendous torment released me. I was free. The addictive longing for Paul's attention ended. All of last night, all of today, it has been gone. Freedom. Blessed freedom.

I am looking forward to telling Paul these happenings but it is myself I long for, not Paul. No torment exists - just peace. I am quite sure Paul will avoid offering me any kind of praise lest I latch on to it. I am sure he will simply question me as to how it is with Di at this moment? Then he will find my limits and push more.

2008-10-23T20:18:00.005-04:00

Two women, hair tied up, dressed in black tights and turtle necks, pit themselves against each other. Both are wrestling to throw the other down.

One is afraid of the other and the second hates the first.

This, I believe, is me.

Told in a thousand ways throughout life that to be me is wrong, I have embraced the belief that doing so will bring reprisal. With this belief comes great fear of that true one within.

Hush. Be silent. You shouldn't have said that. You will be hated. Shhhhhh. Draw no attention to yourself. Quiet....quiet....quiet!

The silenced one seethes with anger at fear's imprisonment, fighting to get past the halting of her words.

You will see, yells the first. I am protecting you.

You liar yells the second. You hateful bitch. I will scream the truth past you, until I am heard.

On they fight the never ending match.

Tossed between the need to speak truth and the fear of reprisal, I tense and wait. It is not the world that silences me, but myself.

Fear, be calm, for the worst reprisal, the only reprisal that can destroy you, is that you shove upon yourself.

Silenced one, speak, for I will hold fear and comfort her.

Truth in Therapy

2008-10-17T21:23:00.003-04:00

As I left last week Paul commented on my getting on with dealing with my wounds. The comment was a spin off on treating myself as if I was defective rather than wounded. I have chewed on both comments this week. Funny how hard he tries to not lead me with his direction and yet he does anyway. I don't know why he doesn't just suggest a direction. This psychotherapy crap has a lot of crap in it. I am not going to change him so I choose to grow regardless of the method but I still think it is a lot of excess confusion.

As I have considered his leading remarks, I have realized that I have been shielding myself from the pain - hoping I can avoid it. It isn't working. Instead my anxiety rises. As I let myself admit the wounds I have experienced with the church the anxiety lessens. Feeling the hurt is much easier than hiding from it.

Instead of trying to convince myself that if I never heard again from the task force that is working on the misconduct policy, I would be fine; I admitted to myself that I would be hurt and angry. I decided it was worth recontacting the guy rather than sweeping it all under the rug. I immediately heard back from him. They have had a hard time all getting together and he still wants my input. Perhaps he is just talking but I choose to hope. His words ring honest and clear without a lot of excuses or pussy footing around the issue.

I realized that Reg has been stretching the truth and trying to placate me with his reports of "it is coming along" and "they are seriously considering what I wrote in my letter." I don't trust Reg very much though I wish I could. He is defensive and proud and very protective of his turf. I think he is also scared of me. A lawsuit from me would probably put the church in the state out of business. They are hanging on by a thread.

I think I have been trying to not be wounded, when I still am wounded. It is hard to not ever get over it. I cope a zillion times better than 8 years ago but I am still wounded. I feel like an alcoholic admitting I have an addiction. It also feels very freeing inside.

What Am I Built Upon?

2008-10-13T22:04:00.006-04:00

I haven't written much lately because I haven't known exactly what to say about my journey in the present. I am still working with Paul but it is the most uncomfortable therapy relationship I have experienced. Paul is 100% pure psychotherapist and he has evidently had enough practice that he has it all down pat.

Paul refuses to let me lapse into seeking his approval in any form. He doesn't even accept it when I ask him if I am doing what he thinks I am supposed to be doing. That is taking the focus off myself and putting it on him - according to him.

He pushes me relentlessly and at times I have no clue what it is he is after. Of course upon hearing that statement he would point out that I am once again focussing on him and should be deciding what it is that I am after.

I am beginning to wonder why exactly he is there......

Today I managed to get some anger out that I have been carrying deep inside. Managing to share it and not pooh-pooh it away is difficult. I feel as if I have been here long enough for anyone and should surely be finished with this stuff. Paul says I seem more focussed on being good at therapy than on working on my stuff. At that point, I fought back. I may suffer from caring what he thinks - dang who wouldn't in that kind of setting, and I may think I am good at therapy after 8 years of it but I am not more concerned about my appearance in therapy than I am at getting well. He underestimates me. And perhaps he is simply challenging me to stand up for myself.

When I asked if I could trust him, if I opened up my deepest emotions towards God, Paul turned it around (oh aren't they good at that) and asked if he could trust me not to take something he said and hurt myself with it all week. I thought about it and replied that I trusted myself to not hurt myself with something he said. I had not done this before with him. I was honest. I do trust myself in that respect. Paul then replied that NO, I did not trust myself that I did not display to him that I trusted myself. At that point I butted in and simply said that I thought he was wrong - that I will not and have not done this. His reply, "I hope you give more weight to what you believe than what I believe."

A week ago I would have left frustrated and quiet but this week I challenged him and refused a couple of statements he made. I think this is what he is after.

He left me with a thought: You present yourself as one who is defective instead of one who is wounded. On this one - he is right. I believe I am defective. For most of my life I have believed something was wrong with me.

Di

The Good Girl

2008-09-08T19:18:00.003-04:00

I shared with Paul this evening about the two me's that existed when I was 17. The me that was seeking God and the me that was sleeping with Bob. Paul asked me how I felt about those two me's. My feelings shocked me.

I felt love and compassion and understanding towards the me who was having sex with Bob. I have accepted her and love her. That step has been real for me. However, I feel anger and hatred towards the me who was seeking God. This completely shocked me. Why would I hate her? For what am I angry?

The picture I see of her is a young lady walking away from me with her back turned. Is my hatred for her coming out of my shame over my questioning God? Am I angry at her because she has all the answers and I now have none of them? At the same time I love and identify with the humaness of me that was sleeping with Bob.

I am not sure of the answers, only of the feelings.

Back to Work

2008-09-04T21:32:00.002-04:00

Well, it is back to work in more ways than teaching. I do my best therapeutic work when I am not off for the summer anyway. Regular work keeps me occupied so I don't spend my whole day focussed on the emotional/mental/spiritual work.

Last week I paid a visit to a local pastoral couselor, Stephen, that I have corresponded with via email. I have "God" issues I would like to deal with in a more intense way than dynamics with my pastor allows. However, the couselor I wanted to see is booked. He suggested another and I met him on Tuesday. I'm not sure what I think. This guy Paul is pure psychotherapist and that really isn't what I am wanting. It may be what I am needing or can at least use, but it is not what I set out to get.

I want a pastor who understands the therapeutic process, one I can let it all out with and get angry at if necessary. I need someone who won't get defensive and I won't have to constantly explain my transference to. I want someone who understands the fact that my "stuff" is going to get smeared on him and it may have little to do with him.

I am sure Paul can do all of that, but he doesn't seem to want to assume the more open role of a pastor versus the more blank slate role of a psychotherapist. I will talk with him more about this next week and see where things go. After all I can go back and do psychotherapy with Dan and I already trust and know Dan. Though, I am not sure I haven't milked Dan for most of what he has to give. I have internalized most of the wonderful stuff Dan taught me.

Last night, I found myself mighty frustrated with Paul's blank slate and realized almost immediately that my frustration is really with God. Who is he anyway? Where was he when my pastor was abusing me? I find myself emotionally beating against this great shiny black wall to what seems no avail.

At 17 I cried out for God believing that there must be something more than the flimsy relationship I had been taught could exist. In the time two things happened. I encountered God in a fresh and real way. I also encountered a youth pastor who abused me. So, if God will not give you a stone when you ask for bread, why did Bob happen? If you say, "Well that was Satan," then why didn't he stop Satan? Isn't that the same thing as giving me the stone?

I was crying out with my whole heart for God. I do not know how to answer the pain in my heart.

Gosh, I Have Been Away a Long Time......

2008-07-21T15:36:00.003-04:00

........ but the break was needed.

This summer has been a time of restoration and rest for me. I have played golf, put puzzles together, played Canasta with my mom, read, and taken a wonderful trip with my love to New England. We just returned on Saturday.

Since I last wrote, I had three disks in my neck fused and quite a few bone spurs removed. The surgery was a success and I can type now without my hands going to sleep or my back hurting.

I also terminated therapy for the time being. Dan and I both agreed that I was doing most of the work myself. More importantly, I felt for the first time in 8 years, the ability to stand on my own. Dan is there if I need him, a phone call or email away, but I have been fine these last two months. Writing this gives me the opportunity to celebrate that milestone.

I imagine therapy will be a part of my life again in the future when life offers me difficulties. It has been such a powerful place of healing that I see it in much the same way as the medical doctor or surgeon. If I need the care, I will seek it out.

The state church has remained in touch and they are continuing to work on the new misconduct policy. I recently heard from Reg that they are paying close attention to my suggestions. The head of the committee called me right after my surgery and with vacations and recovery I have not managed to get back in touch with him in person though messages have been left. His message to me was respectful and encouraging and I will try again soon to contact him by phone. I expect to sit down with the committee in the future.

In my spirit I have felt at peace and hopeful. I have not felt any need to press further.

Balancing my own need for a season of rest with the never ending need of those who have been hurt and the need to educate the church is impossible. For the first time in my healing, I am at peace walking away from my story and allowing other forces in my life to be absorbing.

Di

Talking the Shame Away

2008-04-18T20:48:00.005-04:00

As I talked with Dan last week about the importance of talking about any issue that I felt shame over, I realized why it works so well for me. Let me see if I can put it into words.

Any thing that is "not to be talked about" equals shame to me. From time to time I still hear my name stretched out in the surprised whine of my mother's voice when I do something or say something that is "just not done or said." I was taught to handle anything uncomfortable by not discussing it and stuffing it away as if it did not exist. The concept that silence and shame went hand in hand was embedded in my brain in multiple instances I can recall and probably hundreds I do not.

Now when shame surfaces, I find myself wanting to hide it away, but find myself also incapable of doing so any longer. Sooner or later I must take it out and look at it and speak it. In sharing it, I am declaring my struggling belief that it is not shameful. As I speak it, I am defending that child within that was herself hidden in shame and declaring she is not shameful. Finding my voice and my own declaration, I break the binds of the past's power over me. Shame crumbles.

I used to need to talk a lot, and always. I often emotionally exposed myself to others seeking out their approval because the shame inside was so non-approving. I began this blog at a time that I desperately needed to share my story - no longer for any one else's approval but to declare my own approval of who I am and what I have experienced. To hide it equalled shame; to share it means I am free from shame. I needed a place where I could declare what I was determined to deeply believe - that I am not shame-filled and the path I have walked is not reason to feel shame.

As time has passed, I am no longer driven to type and declare. Sometimes I write out of committment and belief that there is purpose in this. Sometimes I don't write at all because I just don't need to. Sometimes I throw out a little fact like my masturbating at a young age to declare one more thing off the taboo list.

If it can be talked about then it is not shameful. If it is shameful you must not talk about it. It was deeply engrained in me and I now use it to find freedom.

Surgery

2008-04-16T20:58:00.002-04:00

Looks like another break from school may be imminent. I saw the neurosurgeon today and we looked at the MRI I had done last week of my neck. Pain and numbness have been the norm for me on and off for 20 years. The past couple of years has seen a constant numbness in my face and intermittent pain. When the pain a few weeks ago began to interfere with my ability to play golf, I said, "This is enough!"

I was surprised when the MRI showed enough pressure on my spinal cord that the doctor was willing to do surgery. I am hoping to have a go at it in a couple of weeks. I am EXCITED that a lot of things I have enjoyed and had to give up may return. I will be able again to play golf without worry, bike, bowl, and maybe even back pack a little. If you saw how overweight I am, you would be laughing your head off at me.....but hey, why not? Maybe I will even take tennis back up. I used to be pretty good at it.

Don't know where the money is coming from to pay the deductible but we will charge it if we have too. Freedom is too good to consider letting it pass me by for any further length of time.

More Shame Defeated; More Questions Asked

2008-04-14T20:25:00.003-04:00

My visit with Dan last week melted that shame away. (Read the last post.) When I am in the thick of it, I can't see the way out, but I have learned if I will talk, the shame will fade. In talking with Dan there truly is no shame. Quite an amazing relationship. Could this be the way God desires to relate to us?

Guilt if appropriate is healthy, but when shame coats your life it destroys everything - even your ability to walk away from things that lead to more shame. Shame becomes a force of its own devouring all truth.

As a child I began masturbating around the age of 9 or 10. According to Dan, not unusual for a female. This was a long time ago and at least in my home this subject was not acknowledged. Instead anything to do with one's sexuality was avoided and the message that parts of my body were dirty and yukky was instilled.

I thought I must be really weird and rather childishly believed that something must be wrong and evil about me to have discovered this new experience. I could not imagine how I stumbled onto such an intense happening. I assumed I was the only person to have ever done this. When I discussed with Dan the drive I had felt at that age and how horrible I felt about myself, (I think I used the word horrendous. I saw myself as horrendous.) he reminded me that what we despise in ourselves often becomes our focus as we try to work out the issue outside of our minds. If masturbation is OK and a natural part of growing up, we imbibe but are not so driven. If we are hiding it in shame and darkness, it begins to consume us mentally and then physically.

Dismantling this past with Dan and talking without any shame, I found freedom from my present sense of shame. I wish I could develop a recipe that always worked one certain way, but one ingredient I have discovered is that freedom from shame ALWAYS involves bringing the issue into the open and out into the light. At first it took a lot of talking to break myself of the self hatred that accompanies the shame. As I have gained more health the amount of talking has greatly decreased. Extending grace to myself comes much more easily and being human is something I rejoice in.

So the shame issue is dealt with for the moment but the faith issue is not. On one hand, I feel as if I am embracing the reality of God's grace and so much of what I have learned in therapy has aligned with the message of grace. Law brings death. Grace brings life and freedom.

This sounds good but so much of the Bible is law. Go back to Leviticus and you find it says, It is better to put your seed into a whore than to spill it on the ground. Now, I am sorry but that sounds like some pretty stupid advice. Should I recommend this to the students I teach? I think not!

Yes, I understand that the author was coming from a totally different view of "seed." I also know that for years I said I believed that the Bible was THE infallible word of God. If that is so then what has brought me life isn't supposed to work. So I can continue to lean toward another more frightening view of the Bible - that it is human composed and while inspired by God it was filtered through humans, or I can say that I belief it IS completely God's word and continue to throw out the parts I don't like which really means I am lying to myself. You know, like woman having the heads covered. I haven't ever covered my head unless it is freezing outside.

So what is the answer? It is a scary question.

Tom, my pastor, says that doubt is not separate from faith but part of it. It was a lot more comfortable though when I just stuffed my questions away and did not try to answer them.

Shame Again!

2008-04-07T23:01:00.002-04:00

This shame issue is really frustrating. For the past few months I have been defeating it in my life everywhere. My relationship with my husband has shown the fruit. Our lives have become intimate in a new way. I am not sure I can even explain the place of acceptance and freedom from shame that I have felt with him these past months.

Then on Saturday, I was thinking how here I am at 52 feeling more sexual and more sexual freedom than I have felt since I was.......... and then the memories hit. And with them came the shame. It was as if I was being smothered. I began to panic as it overtook me.

I did what I know to do and quieted myself and assured myself that I could get past this too. If I had more I needed to deal with then so be it. I went to be hoping it would be gone by the next day. It was not.

Sunday I shared sexually intimate time with my husband and though everything was fine physically, I was not fine. I was not fine because I was not me. I felt the way I had felt for years - lost. Only I would not have described it that way before I knew there was something better. It was as if I was not there in some realm - perhaps spiritually. I went through the physical motions but a part of me was not there. Afterwards I fought panic even more. Finally I talked with my husband and that helped.

Today we have held hands and hugged and spent time together. I feel safe and accepted but I did not want to go beyond that. I am afraid.

Talking Openly About Sex

2008-03-27T18:52:00.004-04:00

How about you, have you ever talked about sex with a member of the opposite sex who you were not emotionally or sexually involved with? It is not exactly most people's choice of a dinner table conversation.

Bob was a pro. He could talk about sex as if it was the weather. At 17, I found that fascinating and tantalizing and freeing. He awed me talking about a topic that my parents could not even admit existed. Yet, he too bent the topic and made it unhealthy.

I have now, in my marriage, an open and vulnerable and safe relationship and sex has never been better. Being so completely open and vulnerable with one you love and trust is a heady sensation - knowing your imperfections are accepted as you accept his. Safe and secure and sex all go together so nicely! And fun too. I am learning that sometimes sex is just for fun.

I needed to take the topic out and discuss it and perhaps undo some of what Bob did. So, I did just that in another safe and secure environment. This week with my therapist, Dan, I talked. And, he talked. It was a really neat conversation. Personal but with healthy boundaries. Sex was not shameful and neither of us felt shame. We talked about our very human thoughts and lusts. I talked openly. More openly than I think I ever have. It was so freeing and safe. I celebrated my own boundaries and the healthy way I handle myself now.

So, I talked about sex with a man 15 years younger and felt sexual and knew he surely did too. Neither of us needed to use the other. We both had boundaries and we both cared for one another.

I wouldn't recommend this with someone that isn't a professional, but with a professional, it was freeing and what a long way from the sex conversations with Bob!

News

2008-03-06T21:33:00.003-05:00

After a fight with the flu, that I am not sure I have won , I decided I was past due for a post. Flu and strep are going around voraciously at school and church and I was running a touch of fever again this afternoon.

Mostly I have just been tired - physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I spent my therapy session with Dan discussing a need to just rest for awhile. My heart is just not into giving my all. Then, upon arriving home I discovered an email from the regional minister asking me if I had the updated suggestions ready to be handed to the task force. So much for an emotional rest but his taking the initiative to prod me on was very encouraging. He could have just moved on and not mentioned me when they first meet next week. Instead he chose to find out where I was in the process.

So, I spent two hours Tuesday evening finishing the letter and list of suggestions that I had begun to write prior to my episode with the flu. I sent it on its way and then heard back from Reg tonight. His reply is hopeful:

"Diane, I did get it and wanted to say to you that I appreciated the way you worded your letter and the spirit which came through. It really is a submission with suggestions based upon a desire to move things ahead. Thank you very much. I will send this off to the sub committee and let them be aware of it as they start."

As for my typed suggestions - they were worded as carefully and gently as I could but I did not soften my desires. Here they are:

1. Include in the policy "a copy of the misconduct policy will be delivered, faxed, emailed, or mailed to the victim on the day a report is initiated."
2. Specify the number (or range) of individuals to be appointed to each section of the response team and what if any overlap of members with the ministry commission or regional office will be allowed.
3. Clarification of the meaning of “discipline committee”. What are its procedures? Who composes it?
4. The addition to the policy that the victim and the accused will have the opportunity to speak directly to the discipline committee if they so choose.
5. Clarify whether the accused will have access to the victim’s statement and vice versa.
6. Implementation of zero tolerance for sexual misconduct and loss of standing within the region upon a finding of guilt.
7. Require psychological testing of all ministers accused of misconduct.
8. The requirement that the boards of all prior regions and churches will be notified when guilt is established – especially when a question of predation exists.
9. Assure that the policy adequately covers situations when:
a. the victim is an adult
b. the victim is a child
c. when reporting is occurring years following the abuse
10. Include in the policy the way a victim will be offered an official apology on behalf of the church.

Though it would be nice to simply blast ahead, my hope is to gain the trust of those I am sharing with. I have no desire to hurt anyone and only hope to see positive come from all this. I think the relief I have heard from the regional minister in the last two emails has expressed his relief that I am not seeking to expose my predator. Though I would disagree with this need were he not retired, I have no desire to embarrass or damage my perpetrators daughter or son-in-law's ministry. He struck me as a good and honest man and his words gained my respect. I see no need to hurt anyone as long as Bob stays away from the ministry and my voice is received.

My letter, that accompanied the list of submissions explained my connections to the church and requested an opportunity to sit down with the task force personally to share my suggestions. Hopefully sometime soon after next Wednesday I will hear a positive response from the task force.

You Won't Believe This

2008-02-17T20:51:00.006-05:00

I am sitting here with my friend, Sandy, who has also experienced abuse at the hands of a youth minister. Living far out of state, she flew in on Friday and we have spent the last two days getting to know each other.

Sandy and I are the same young age of 52, both came to know Jesus at the same age of 14, were both molested the same year, 1972, both have 2 children the same ages, and have both been married the same number of years. Sandy's birthday is the same as my son's, and my birthday is the same as her daughter's. My anniversary is her sister's birthday. We both studied to be nurses and no longer work as a nurse. We both play at the game of golf.

Both Sandy and I reported our abuser during our late 40's and we both still deal with the implications and affects of the abuse. Both abusers maintain good standing with the region in which they were licensed, though they are now retired.

Our hearts are similar. Having both forgiven, we seek to prevent further abuse at the hands of our abuser and others. We look for ways to strengthen and improve policies concerning pastoral sexual abuse.

We have both dealt with regional ministers in our efforts - Sandy having talked to members of the general (national) church counsel as well. We have both been heard but experienced frustration over the lack of response. Due to the time that had elapsed in both of our cases, both ministers were allowed to continue in ministry, albeit with monitoring.

Should passage of time diminish the consequences? Is it possible to be safe after living years of your life as a predator? Should a denomination risk the lives of those entrusted to their care? Neither one of these men could be hired as an educator, counselor, or therapist. Yet, the church hires them to be the spiritual guide for God's flock.

These men deserve all the love and grace God gives to all of us, but they deserve that love and grace sitting in the third row of the church, not standing in the pulpit.

Sandy's experience with the regional minister was more disturbing than mine. Unlike my report, hers was substantiated by witnesses, by the birth of a child of his next victim, and by his subsequent removal from ministry. Three years later, following a year and a half of therapy, he was reinstated to the ministry. When he left that state, his files remained in the region where he was disciplined and were never transfered to the new region.

When contacted by Sandy, the new regional minister was unaware of any detail of her abuser's past, only that he had at one time been disciplined. He did not feel it was important to know any details but chose to trust the other region's reinstatement. Thus, a known predator had been allowed to pastor a congregation for 13 years with no one there being aware of his past.

Sandy found this unacceptable and intended to write the elders of the church. After seeing the letter she had written, the regional minister responded in a letter with these words: "....I have doubts that sending the letter, like the one you drafted, will bring you healing. Instead, I would be afraid that the damage to people's faith, the damage to their sense of security and relationships, the damage to their ability to trust, and the collapse of their spiritual dreams would weigh upon your spirit. If you were to send such a letter, you would know in your heart that you may have single handedly (emphasis mine) vetoed the experience of God's grace for many, many people. That to me would be quite a load to carry. I believe it would create new wounds for you."

Sandy responded: "You said that if I were to send the letter to the officers of the church 'it would weigh upon my spirit.' On the contrary, failing to send the letter will result in everlasting regret if anyone is ever again the victim of (minister's name) despicable misconduct. I was a victim because those who knew (of his prior misconduct) failed to protect me."

Needless to say, Sandy notified the elders.

The very thing this regional minister suggested Sandy would do to a congregation by sending a letter, had already been done to her. To seemingly manipulate her in such a way was horrendous.

This weekend we have used the "s" word a lot. While shaking our heads in disbelief the word "stupid" had leaked from our lips excessively! Why is it that church leadership fails time and again to remove ministers from their positions, only to allow them to prey again upon the unsuspecting? The regional minister's head in the sand mentality would truly be laughable if it were not so painful.

"Abuse"

2008-02-14T20:52:00.004-05:00

I never thought that one word could sound so good! But, last night it sounded better than I ever imagined. I received a reply from the regional minister and for the first time I feel truly honored and heard. His first paragraph is worth quoting:

"Last night, at Ash Wednesday service, the thought came to me as I sat in silence that I need to say something to you on behalf of the whole church. As a person charged to speak for the church I need to extend an apology. At a time when you should have been nurtured and growing in faith, you were abused and set back in your faith. That was wrong and on behalf of the church, I am sorry."

Now that is powerful! Not only did he apologize but he recognized it as abuse - not misconduct, not a difficult experience, not sexual misbehavior, or some other nice way of saying it - but ABUSE. My heart was touched and as I sat in traffic reading the letter, sobs broke out of my soul.

He continued to say that he still intended to present my request to the task force, appreciated and accepted my request to rewrite my thoughts, and apologized if any wording he used earlier had caused me distress. It isn't perfect, but at least I know where he is now.

As far as monitoring issues with Bob and my questions that have not been answered, it seems the file is slim, and to discover the answers he would have to dig and disrupt a congregation from which my perpetrator has retired. Were he still there, I would deem that necessary. Since he is gone, I understand his reticence though I am not sure it is really for their best interest. I'm not sure I agree with him but this time he was upfront and honest as to his thoughts and feelings. I can deal with that. Transparency goes a long way with me.

He refers to the statement I made in my last email as to his role as regional minister and my questions making it a difficult place to walk: "It is indeed. Thanks for your openness to the understanding that I cannot do all that you would like in the way you would like. I continue to work towards a solution that will give us both ease about this and the ability to move on." In that statement and the rest of the paragraph, I hear a man struggling to meet the needs of all and finding it a sticky place to reside.

He ends once again with that word "abuse". "Be assured that I continue to pray for you and for all involved in the abuse you suffered."

It is amazing how much power a timely response with a heartfelt apology carries. That one word, that has been so hard for me to accept, has now been spoken by one in a place of authority in the church. There is freedom for me in hearing this declaration!

I am touched.

Prickly Issues

2008-02-06T20:46:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with Tom tonight that went well. He is concerned with how this is affecting my relationship with God and the local church. I don't think it is distorting either and I appreciate his pastoral heart in offering his time. I didn't ask for it - he offered.

I struggle to not slip back into the needy child when I am with him. Part of me really wants to in order to be coddled and given some nurturing attention; yet, I managed to stay the adult and even argue some minor points with him.

Tom would not wager a guess as to the regional minister's response to my email. I think he is glad I ventured out one more time for clarification. My expectation is that I will not hear back from him until after the task force meets and then it will be to tell me that he gave them my suggestions and they were grateful.

One of the elders (the head elder) at church is pretty torn up by all this. He is the only lay person that is aware of it all. He has a 17 year old daughter and I am sure that plays into his facing the reality. Never having given this issue much thought, as he looks at it now, he is discovering how rampant of a sin it is. His heart is truly grieved and he is considering taking a step toward contacting someone in order to assure me a place to share. I listened to him sob tonight at the altar. I have no doubt that some of those tears were over the church's response to me and other victims. Between he and my sister-in-law maybe something even bigger than I hoped for will be stirred up. It is truly time for the church to take this issue out from under the basket and deal with it. It is time for congregations to be educated as to how often this occurs and how to spot perpetrators and what to do when they expect one.

A Good Session

2008-02-05T19:46:00.000-05:00

It is hard to bare myself at times but if this blog is going to offer to others anything different then it does no good to hide in shame. My session with Dan this evening offered me some good stuff. I discussed all the happenings of the last week and my feelings of frustration, betrayal, and pain. Dan asked me how I felt I needed to respond which I soon turned around to ask him what he thought. He reminded me of the picture I had painted for him of myself meeting my second perpetrator and lying down to hide myself from those that might see me riding in the car with him. It was such a powerfully shame filled memory. Dan's suggestion for now is that whatever I choose to do needs to be the opposite of that shame filled picture. What that means, he would never attempt to define for me, but encouraged me to seek for the response and image that is the opposite.

For the present, I only know that silence, in the present, is equal to the shame filled hiding of the past. My choice is to speak. My dream is to speak to ministers, congregations, seminaries, and anyone else that is willing to hear my story and what I have learned through my journey.

How do I get from point A to point B when the church does not want to hear the truth. I asked my sister-in-law why the church is so afraid of the truth. She replied "truth hurts". Mary also honored my tenacity in this pursuit. She is looking for a way to help my pursuit to be heard.

I feel sort of like gum that is stuck on the floor in my classroom. The powers that be (me and administration) did not want it in my classroom, but it came anyway and stuck itself firmly to my floor. There is no way to sweep it underneath the carpet. It is stubbornly stuck and going no where. And so am I. I suppose I can bombard a lot of folks with the truth, stubbornly refusing to be swept away - the question that remains is "how?"

Betrayal?? Deception?? Or something else??

2008-02-04T19:31:00.000-05:00

What a title, huh?

I went back and read the regional minister's email to me last September in order to compare it to the one he sent me this past week. His change in tone and wording is disturbing.

In September he wrote: "Because the Ministry Commission has such an incredible workload, we felt it would get things accomplished quicker if we appointed a separate panel. That panel is being appointed and as soon as they begin meeting we will find an opportunity for your input to them. I can’t predict the time line right now, but wanted to let you know that we are serious about responding to the issues you have raised and want to do so in a timely fashion."

Last week he wrote: "I am aware you desire a personal session with them but I cannot say right now whether or not that will happen. "

I think that is a major change, wouldn't you? So, is it betrayal, deception, or something else?

Cataracts

2008-02-02T19:26:00.000-05:00

Years ago before my mom had cataract surgery, I took her shopping for a dress to wear to a wedding. She picked out a lovely one but I was surprised to see it was purple - a color she seldom wore. I had a feeling she was not seeing it clearly and pointed out to her that purple was an unusual color for her to choose. Being my loving but stubborn mother, she insisted it was navy blue! I calmly told her it was purple. Finally she asked the sales clerk just in order to prove me wrong. It was purple!

Like my mom and the purple dress, I see the church and pastors through damaged lenses. Time after time, I find myself struggling to know the truth in the present because the past distorts it.

In reading the regional ministers late reply to my requests I experienced the same. My first response was to only see his "no's" and his wishy washy political efforts to pat me on the back and send me on my way. Then I reread it and thought surely I was completely mistaken the first time and went into a state of feeling shamed by my reaction. This man sounds so gentle and kind. Then finally I read it a third time and was just flat confused because both are evident.

I somehow expect that the truth is somehow a mismash of all of the above.

Though I had sworn that I would not reply to his email I gave it one more swing this morning. I don't know if I am simply stubborn like my mom, hearing the voice of God, being a fool, or all of these options. I have chosen to risk once more.

The regional minister promised to give my typed suggestions to the task force. This sounds encouraging on the surface, however I have specifically asked for the opportunity to do so myself. I asked this time to be able to trim down and organize my thoughts and remove any reference to Bob, and to include a letter to the task force. In it, I will personally make my case for speaking to them myself. I also asked if he is planning to encourage them to allow me the opportunity to speak. If he chooses the wishy washy on that, I will know he does not.

I also offered him an education on dealing with victims and enlightened him on the pain and damage his waiting so long to answer my questions had caused. I asked him to consider that and to answer me in a timely manner.

No answer this time will speak loudly. I have confronted him in truth but without angst over the power he carries to wound or heal. If he does not choose to heal then I will know his true heart. We will see. Only time will tell.

The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) Failed to Protect Me

2008-01-30T21:47:00.000-05:00

As of this evening, I feel no need to protect the denomination of which my perpetrator was a part. I have received a well written and seeminly caring response from the regional minister but I am discouraged with his answers.

It began when they certified a predator to be my pastor when I was 17 and he abused me.

Then they did not follow procedure when I reported him 7 years ago.

Once I realized that fact this past August and asked to be given the answers to several questions, the regional minister put me off for 5 months and then finally tonight told me he could not answer my questions. I am grateful to finally hear something but angry that it took 5 months.

Finally, last August I requested to speak to the ministry commission to be told "No, but a task force was being appointed and my request to speak would be presented to them as soon as they met." There was much positive to hope for in that statement, though it would ultimately be the decision of the task force. I felt with the support of the regional minister they would choose to hear me. Now I hear a much watered down statement as to my being able to speak. The regional minister cannot offer me any assurity that this will happen.

I am angry and wrestle to hold on to the truth that this is not a statement about my value. I am sad that the denomination of the church I have been attending is no more concerned for a sheep than this shows. I am also determined to not be silenced.

How do we force the church to take its head out of the sand? Do we have to suck the sand away so they have nothing in which to bury it? Will God send a wave to wash the sand from around their heads? Am I part of that wave?

I so wanted to find a voice in a setting that would cause no damage to anyone but could make an impression that could bring a positive change for the future. Once again the church disappoints me.

SNAP

2008-01-27T21:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday afternoon I attended my second SNAP meeting (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests). My presence will be more frequent now since they have changed their meetings to Saturdays.

I met 3 new survivors. One fellow was experiencing the presence of other survivors for the first time. It is a radical experience to know you are no longer the only one out there.

We each shared something that had helped us heal. We talked of therapy and relating to ourselves. We talked of shame and the exorbitant about of time it takes to heal from the shame. We talked about triggers that set us off in the present. We compared notes on depression and panic attacks. We shared tears and pieces of our stories. We listened and we nodded and we loved. We discussed God and all the questions that have besieged us about His existence and His goodness.

Sameness. That is what stood out to me. Everyone knew. Everyone understood. Everyone had shared in the same emotions, the same turmoil, the same pain.

I was moved in a unique way.

I kept thinking - if only church government could hear what I am hearing. If only they could hear the cries of pain. If only they saw the struggles over faith. Would they still turn their heads away and treat this sin lightly?

We shook hands and hugged and left.

The meeting ended. The day ended. But, the richness of the sharing will travel with me.

Confused and Ashamed

2008-01-25T18:21:00.001-05:00

I haven't written in a month because I have been emotionally smothered under thick layers of shame. I felt ashamed of having to write that the same old issues were defeating me. When I unearthed my relationship with the second pastor, and began dealing with it in therapy, the shame from that relationship broke over me like a tsunami and overwhelmed me. Finally this last week the ultimate question arose in therapy.

"Why is this taking me so long, Dan?" I asked it, voice cracking and heart begging for him to tell me that I was not a failure. I realized from the panicked tone of my voice that shame was at the bottom.

What Dan offered was comforting. For those of you seeking your healing from pastoral sexual abuse, listen clearly.

"Not many choose to confront this. Most leave it stuffed down and undealt with. Not many go this deep. Most get caught in the pursuit of false love and never break free of the "plastic" relationships. They go to their grave having fallen victim over and over because they can't face it all. Plastic lilies sit on their graves. You are facing it. This is no small thing you are doing. You are taking the road less traveled and it takes time to traverse it."

For all of you out there who also face the shame and sometimes find it overwhelming , who shudder at the pain, who wonder how much longer, may Dan's words to me give you comfort.

2007-12-22T22:24:00.001-05:00

It is the Christmas season. A time of warmth and family for some, but also a time of loneliness and depression for others. For me this year, it is a little of both.

I spent this evening at church helping herd sheep, goats, and one very stubborn donkey into and out of the living nativity scene. Last years pageant was a very emotional one for me. When I was a teenager we had a similar pageant, started by the same pastor that began the tradition here. I had only been attending the church here for a couple of months last Christmas. Hell had been breaking loose inside of me over past abuse issues as I began building a relationship with a new pastor in the same denomination. I remember sitting and wondering, "Would I still be around next year for the pageant." Now I wonder about about 2008.

Tonight brought back a lot of thoughts of this past year. Times with Tom, trying to work through my fears and emotions; phone calls to Bob, my first abuser; and finally a day of confrontation and closure for me as I faced Bob with Tom by my side. It has been quite a year.

I find myself wondering where I will be next year. Will more issues be settled inside of me? Will I finally have closure with the denomination as a whole? Will I have finished dealing with the shame I have carried for so long over the second pastoral sexual relationship?

I find myself now in the thick of dealing with that second relationship. Tonight while herding the very stubborn donkey, my hand was caught between the rope and the stall we were trying our best to tug him in to. I yelled pretty loudly as the rope began to feel more like a vice. A couple of blood vessels were popped but some ice and Gladys' wrapping it and it felt a lot better.

Gladys is Tom's wife. She is also the church nurse. And, I am transferring my emotional stuff all over her. Transference is one of my best accomplishments! Helpful when I realize it and can use it to find freedom.

Minton's wife Sue was also a nurse and one time wrapped my knee for me after an injury offering me the same kind intervention. The replay of history hit my emotions before they hit my understanding. I went into the restroom and cried over the pain I was feeling without a clue as to why I felt such intense sadness. An hour or so later and the light bulb came on. The parallel between the two situations had brought long buried emotion to the surface.

I don't know how to explain to those of you that read my blog, the power of past emotions. I wanted to run to Gladys for approval. I wanted to apologize for something I never did to her. I feel so much shame over my behavior with Minton and how I chose to stab Sue in the back when I crossed the line with her husband.

Shame is surfacing everywhere. My past two nights sleep have been interrupted by multiple dreams of abuse and agents seeking me out for abusing other children. I have woken with shudders of grief, waves of confusion, and a nauseated stomach.

Yet, all this is good. Hard but good. It has taken 7 years of work to get here to the place that I can now face this tragedy. I know that I am on the verge of a tremendous healing. I feel so alone. I know that my therapist, Dan, understands. I wonder if others who have dealt with this type of issue understand or am I truly alone in this venture. And I am aware that many are in my life who have no clue as to what I am dealing with or the tragic depth of pain and destruction it has carved into my soul.

Pastoral sexual misconduct caused me to lose so much. I just want someone to put their arms around me and understand.

Shrinking my Shame

2007-12-18T21:52:00.000-05:00

Just a little bit of a pun in this title..... as I just spent an hour with my shrink working on shrinking my shame.

Dan's great, and I continue to grow in my appreciation of him. Ever encouraging, he picks up on what is important, sees my anger, feels my pain, and understands the depth of it all. He never thinks something is not a big deal. He sees past the outside to what occurred inside.

Tonight I finally uncloaked some details of my relationship with Minton. I expected the most difficult part to be the sexual details but I ended up sharing, remembering little of that. What wrenches itself up and out of me is the immense fear and shame. Fear of being caught. Shame of what I am doing - not doing, did. But that Freudian slip reveals the immediacy in the emotion associated with these happenings of 30 years past.

I recalled our first tryst. The shame of giving in to his request that I come by his house on my way to work. I described the day he reserved a room at a hotel just out of town. He lied about where he was and took the day off. I remember the stares as we swam in the pool. I remember the dark headed lady that kept looking at me and knew the truth. I remember the horrible desire to hide and run but simultaneously feeling trapped and unable to. Perhaps worst of all, I remember the day his parents returned from their vacation early and found me at their house waiting on Minton to return from the store with me something to drink. I remember the horror I felt as I pushed opened the locked screen and ran out the door and ran on and on until I finally stopped exhausted and sat on a hill and waited on Minton to come and find me. I remembered the sick feeling.

I sat holding the pillow tonight wanting to throw up while Dan summarized all the emotion I had described: fear and more fear and shame - mounds of it. The horror of being trapped in something that I could not find the ability to end. The driven neediness inside warring with the anxiety - neither winning. To walk away meant complete aloneness. The church had long ago dumped me. I could not do it until my fear became so great that I couldn't not do it.

I left Dan's tonight with a smorgasboard of emotion. All I had uncovered was still fresh but right along with it was this fantastic relief from having shared it with someone else - not just the words but the vivid emotions that accompany the memories.

A Short Update

2007-12-15T22:52:00.000-05:00

My normal desire to post blogs has taken a vacation for some reason, but I felt I needed to go ahead and push it in order to keep folks up to date.

A week ago, I emailed the regional minister and asked for an update as to the appointment of the task force and the answers to my questions. He had promised me that when the regional assembly was past he would get back to me. I sent an empasioned email asking for what he had promised. Reg immediately responded with the fact that the task force was appointed but they were waiting until the first of the year to start meeting.

As far as my questions, the ones I asked in August that he failed to answer and has still left unanswered, I had to send another to get a response. I found out that he was not in the office but out of town at his mother's house who had just died. He once again promised to get me answers as soon as he returned.

Who in Bob's church was notified about his misbehavior? Was the policy followed or not? If I do not hear by the first of the year, I am not sure what to do. I know that I probably have a legal case. Will I do it if that is what it takes? The biggest question is what will it cost me if I do sue and what will it cost me if I do not.

On the other side of the coin, I just heard from my therapist, Dan. There is some unsurety as to my insurance paying for an more sessions this year. The association Dan works with is supposed to be finding out, but he has not heard anything back from them. He will ask again Monday but told me to just plan on showing up Tuesday. If the insurance won't swing it, then he will throw it in for a Chritmas present. Yes, you heard that clearly. He is an amazing man.

Most of my spare time has been quickly taken up by Christmas buying, wrapping, and decorating with a little party going and some school work added. I am looking forward to a 2 week break as much as the kids are.

My eyes are slowly closing. It has been a busy day. Happy Advent!

A Friend's Story

2007-12-01T20:17:00.000-05:00

Mona Brewer is a friend of mine. We have only met on two occasions but we have kept in touch since then. She sent me this link from an Atlanta radio station concerning her illicit relationship for 14 years with a very well know minister named Earl Paulk.

I invite you to listen to her story and think. Think about the power of this kind of relationship in a person's life. Think about how the church must appear to the world.

This is very sad to me.

Here's the link: http://www.allenhuntshow.com/Listen/269-my-uncledaddy-church-with-mona-brewer-chris-krok-edition

Valuable?

2007-11-22T10:40:00.001-05:00

The beginning of last summer I posted a story about my friend Bonnie who was in a terrible car accident that almost took her life. Bonnie's life was spared but she still lost a lot. She lost the use of her left arm and hand, though a new surgery is in the plans for next Wed that will help restore her some use and further therapy should help her gain more use of her fingers. She lost her left-side vision. If she looks at your right eye she can see your nose but not your left eye. Thus everything appears dark to her and reading is very difficult. She lost her ability to run but has now regained her ability to walk due to multiple remarkable surgeries on her ankles and knee. She lost her whole summer. She remembers none of it. She lost the beauty of her arms and legs as they are now covered in scars and her left arm had much of the muscle and skin stripped off of it. She lost her teeth though the ones she now has are beautiful. But she is still Bonnie, a gentle and caring person who I was given the opportunity to work beside for 4 years.

As I talked with Bonnie on Tuesday, and celebrated in my heart her survival, she talked of a sense of uselessness. I wanted to scream, "Bonnie, how can you feel useless? You are so important to me! Your very existence is what my whole Thanksgiving is about this year." Instead I calmly pointed out her importance to me and how God is even now using her injury to teach doctors and nurses who will go on to impact others lives. I told her how very important she was and how I had to see her before Thanksgiving Day because my heart was so full of gratitude for her life.

And then I thought. How easy it is for all of us to fall into seeing our value in what we do and accomplish. That is what Bonnie was doing, missing terribly the sense of achievement that comes from teaching young minds. But from my end, Bonnie is valuable just because she is Bonnie. I couldn't quite explain that to her, but the light bulb came on for me. This is how God's sees us, valuable just because we exist. Nothing we do earns His love. Nothing we do defeats it.

He loves me because I exist and am precious to him. So today, beyond celebrating Bonnie's physical life, I celebrate the lesson that her trajedy just taught me. My value is in my being.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Freedom

2007-11-21T20:29:00.000-05:00

I continue to work on the shame issues over the relationship with Minton but I am only working on it sporadically. Life has been so very busy at work and home that the time to think is scarce. Though, I also wonder if I have not passed some kind of milestone in being able to work on emotional issues when I choose instead of them devouring me at their whim.

I had a really good session with Dan last night and we continued to talk about my transferential feelings with Tom and their connection to the shame with Minton. I can tell I am making progress in defeating the shame because it isn't so strong as I talk about it. Even now sitting and typing I feel much more at ease. I also recognize that it will take more work to finish this.

I feel a little concerned and guilty that I am in no hurry to hear from the task force on sexual misconduct. I am dreading having to pull all that back out to deal with it again. It is so emotionally draining. I asked Dan what he thought about my change of feeling in this area.

Dan's thoughts were that it is not a problem since I am doing some good work in the moment and one thing on the burner at the time is probably enough for anyone. What I am presently looking at is timely and will further prepare me for the opportunity to share with the church's committee.

When I talk with Dan it feels so good to talk with someone who so thoroughly understands what I am saying. I don't have to work to make myself understood. We flow together. I feel a lot of support and peace in my relationship with him. And I trust him. Nice.

God's timing first with Cheryl and then John and now Dan has been so evident. Each of them has played a role in the work I was doing in that time period that the others would not have been able to play so well. His hand in my healing is an area I am very grateful for this season.

Shame

2007-11-11T21:48:00.000-05:00

I have been thinking about the cords of shame and how they have tied me in knots for so many years. Last week when I left Dan's so aware of the shame I felt, I was equally unaware of how to disentangle myself. I truly felt lost even as I had in my dream.

Now that is rather ironic since I had spent years disentangling myself from the cords of shame over my relationship with Bob, but nevertheless I felt equally as lost as I had when facing the original shame. It took a while for the words I wrote in my last post to find their way to my conscious mind but once I wrote them they brought powerful healing.

Cheryl, the therapist who worked for me during the first 5 years of my therapy, told me that she believed shame was at the root of all of our human issues. Cheryl is agnostic and leans toward Budhism. I tell you that because it is very interesting to me that Cheryl's view of humankind's problems is the same as the Christian's God's view. What did Christ bear on the cross but all our shame? What is the new covenant if not one based on grace which is as far from shame as one can get?

The church taught me of God's grace but did a poor job of teaching me how to extend my own personal grace inward. That took Cheryl. "What is God saying?" was changed to "What are you telling yourself, Diane?" I am not negating the first question. I went into therapy knowing well what God was saying long before I met Cheryl. I knew he was a God of grace. I did not doubt his grace filled ways of dealing with me,his child. Yet, I could not figure out how to translate it into my own practice toward myself.

It was truly as if I was adicted to the self hatred. The pathways of despite had eroded themselves into my brain. After years of work, I think differently about myself. I talk differently to myself. I relate to myself with gentleness.

Dan last week focussed on a question asked of me by a pastor after the relationship with Minton was shared with him. "Do you understand the seriousness of what you have done?" Dan asked me what that seriousness was? I fumbled around for an answer and still do not have a clear one. I think further freedom will come as I answer for myself and reframe the meaning of that question.

Lost

2007-11-08T20:11:00.000-05:00

Two night ago I dreamed: Rejected by friends at a function in the UGA auditorium and even abandoned by my husband, I got lost in Athens and could not find my way back onto the campus. I tried and struggled and people tried to help but I kept making wrong turns and nothing worked out right. Even when the path was pointed out to me, I either missed it or it somehow evaded my attempts to get on it.

It was a vivid dream and emotionally troubling to me when I awoke. I took the memory with me to my session with Dan. He likes to work with dreams and has taught me that our subconscious often tries to work out our struggles for us while we sleep. At first we talked about the obvious abandonment and I discussed how Minton and the church had abandoned me. Then Dan asked me why UGA was part of the dream. What did it mean to me? What was the connection? I was shocked to realize there was a big one.

I left UGA as a failure in the fall of '75. The bottom was falling out of my grasp on any emotional stability. That summer I had told Minton and his wife about my relationship with Bob, and Minton had begun persuing me physically. I am not sure you can imagine the emotional confusion I felt because I haven't completely grasped it myself. I only know that by that time I was completely and totally convinced that something was terribly wrong with me. I was doomed and dirty and I must have a sign on me that said I was a whore. I went back to school that fall and came very close to a mental/emotional breakdown. I could not study. I could not attend to anything in my classes. For the first time in life and perhaps the only time, my anxiety was so high that I could not function mentally. I shut down. My mind was in a fog. I was alone and since I didn't understand myself what was wrong, I had no idea how to tell anyone else or to ask for help. I was lost.

I thought God told me to go home, drop out, and I told my mom and dad and they were upset but let me. I withdrew from the fall quarter and went home. There is massive shame tied to letting my parents down. There is shame over dropping out. There is shame in mishearing God.

Perhaps it is time to reframe that. Let me try right now:

I was 20 years old and for the second time in my life a pastor was coming on to me. I was confused. Who wouldn't be? I was being told by the second shepherd that I was some kind of whore who attracted this kind of behavior. I was full of anxiety. I believed a lie that I was somehow a big mistake.

That is a LOT for anyone to handle. This was before anyone talked about psychologists or counseling though at the time I did wonder about talking with someone at the clinic. I had heard they had counselors of some kind. But I didn't go. I didn't know what to tell them. I never connected my emotional turmoil with Minton's passes.

If that was today and I knew about a kid going through this, I would talk to her. I would listen. I would offer to put my arms around her and tell her that she is not a whore, that she did not deserve that treatment, that she was not at fault, that it was the pastor's place to hold the boundary and to not push it. I would tell her that all the confusion and fear she feels is ok, that dropping out is ok if that is what she needs to do to get her thoughts and feelings sorted through. I would tell her that the improper advances were not statements about something being wrong with her but rather a loud statement about those two men. And over and over I would tell her she is valuable and loved and not alone any more. She is not abandoned and I am not ashamed of her. I would be there with her and with all her confusion. I wouldn't leave her alone or simply point the path out to her. Instead I would walk with her until she found her way back. And then I would stay with her so she did not have to fear the dark.

And so, in this very moment, I choose to stop running from her and to walk toward her with arms outstretched and acceptance in my heart for her. I choose to no longer hate her and her imperfectness. I see her courage. I feel her pain. And I love her.

Stirrings

2007-10-30T20:59:00.000-04:00

Several issues are being moved to the front burner and God is stirring the pot.

The most exciting is that my new online friend, Sandy, is looking at flying down for a long weekend in February. Sandy was a victim of sexual misconduct at the age of 17 and during the same year that I was. We are the same ages. Our stories are eerily similar. Emailing has been a wonderful experience but the thought of connecting for 3 or 4 days face to face sounds like a dream. We are even talking about combining forces on some issues that we think need viewing from a victim's standpoint.

Another issue that is being stirred is not so exciting. The second pastoral relationship in which I was involved seems to still have its claws in me. As my husband and Dan and I sat and talked this evening about some of my issues with sex, I realized that some undealt with shame was still lingering around the relationship with Minton. When I think about Bob I don't feel the same shame. I have dismantled so much shame in the past few years that I can usually spot it in an instance and voila there it is.

I have told of my relationship with Bob on the blog in much more detail than mine with Minton. That is because I cringe still to share about that one. Why? I have some ideas as to why...... I was two years older at the time and I think I still blame myself more fully. I felt a lot of guilt and shame during this relationship while during the one with Bob, while shame and guilt were there, they were deeply buried under the ideology of a 17 year old. I still believed nothing could hurt me. My brain was not fully fuctioning as an adult. I never really connected mentally with how bizarre and wrong the situation was with Bob. With Minton, I knew from the start.

Also, I was caught alone with him one time by my mom very early in the relationship and before anything of any magnitude had occured in the sexual realm. She reacted and thought something wasn't right. Having been raised to believe that life revolved around "what was done" and "what was not done" I had no reference to the fact that sin was sin because it would HURT me. All I picked up on when my mom tried to talk with me about it, was that it embarrassed her. I denied anything being wrong and that was the last time she mentioned it. She just spent a lot of time freaking over stuff that was stupid to freak over. I don't think I mattered as much as "what was done" and "what the neighbors would think." I am still angry about that..... hmm.

This is not going to be fun digging back through this stuff but I know the freedom that has come from dealing with the baggage over Bob so I won't avoid it. I don't guess.

God do I have to do this, again?

I don't think He will push me. He doesn't have to. The overachiever in me pushes. If I don't deal with it voluntarily it will spew out of places I am unaware and at people that don't deserve it.

It is a lot harder to see the power issue and the abuse in the relationship when I was an adult.

A Lesson

2007-10-27T21:43:00.000-04:00

I had a lesson today - a golf lesson! Boy was I nervous when I got there. I kept having to tell myself that I wanted this guy to see my worst. Do you know how hard of an idea that is to get to sink in to your head? Then he showed up and pulled out my 7 iron and I had no doubt he was truly about to do just that. I stink with my irons. I avoid them - or I did.

Mark was however such a good teacher that my nerves calmed down in just a few short minutes which is good because the first few balls I hit were really, really bad. I had no way to go but up. He first commented on my smooth swing and asked how I had developed that. I told him my dad had taught me as a kid.

At first he just got to know me a little and once he found out I was a science teacher he went that direction. We talked physics and force. We talked of the planets and how my head is the sun and my elbows Mars and the end of the club Pluto. I forgot to remind him that Pluto was demoted and is no longer a planet.... but somehow saying your club head is Uranus.....well I think I will keep Pluto and I bet Mark will too.

Mark was good enough that he immediately picked up on the fact that I had played softball. We talked about the difference in a softball swing and bat and the golf swing and club. He let me hit a few and then went to get the camera and filmed me. Oh my God! I am not a beauty leaning over that ball! First there is about two times as much of me hanging over the sides as I want to see on film. Then my age spots on my hands showed up brightly or rather - darkly. My boobs get squashed when I swing. No it was not a pretty sight at all.

Nevertheless Mark and I both immediately saw several problems other than my aging appearance. He picked just two to work with me on: my grip and my follow through. I had forgotten how to grip the club so the V's lined up the way they should. I was grasping the club too far up into the palm of my hand and he adjusted it down into the grip of my fingers. Boy did my fingers get tired. That and the follow through immediately changed the direction my ball tended to fly. When I hit it correctly, no more slice but a very slight little hook as it reaches its peak, just what he told me should be there.

More than just helping my golf game, Mark also won my heart. He ain't cheap though. He costs as much an hour as my shrink - only I don't own golf insurance. You know, I wonder if my insurance would pay Mark. I mean golf really is an outlet for me and it sure keeps me mentally healthier. I wonder how well I can make that argument?

Di

Love and Loyalty

2007-10-25T20:32:00.000-04:00

I had an awesome vacation camping at the beach with my husband. It was remarkable for two reasons. First, it dawned on me how faithful and loyal my husband has been to me for 27 years. We talked about the fact that he has always stood by me and never even considered abandoning me in the midst of any trial in our marriage. For the first time, his ever present support sunk in to a new level. Out of all my fears of abandonment, I suddenly was able to rejoice in the wonder of my husbands care. As the light bulb came on at a new level, our relationship blossomed over the 5 days. It was a special time together - one of the most special times in our marriage. It was hard to come home.

I returned to an appointment with Dan - my first with him as my official personal therapist. Dan has worked with us as a couple for years and though I have met with him a few times alone when Rob was out of town or sick at the last minute or Dan was filling in when Cheryl was gone and I was in a crisis, this was the first official meeting with him as my own therapist. It felt comfortable, right. Though I am grieving in saying goodbye to John, I am mostly enjoying saying hello to Dan. I am already able to turn some of my emotional baggage from Tom to Dan and it was obvious to me last night that this is a very good thing.

I almost felt normal at the Wednesday night meal and program. Instead of reaching emotionally into Tom or wanting to reach into him and fighting the tendency, I was at peace. Today, when I considered emailing Tom about some thoughts, I stopped and decided to keep that between Dan and me. It isn't that I won't continue to work with Tom. I can't attend church and not do that. However, I think I will be able to keep some of the emotional transference in therapy and deal with it with a professional who is trained to help me do just that. It gets really messy in real life when my emotions, thoughts, and fears from the past invade the present.

I feel much less of a need to explain the sometimes bizarre emotions to Tom now. It is more OK that he doesn't "get it". I just remind myself that Dan very much does get it. With Dan, I don't have to explain it to feel OK with who I am and what I am struggling with. Those of you who have experienced a good therapeutic relationship will understand this. For those who haven't, I'm not sure I can explain it. I could not have understood prior to being in therapy myself. I think if must be the kind of relationship that has to be experienced to understand.

Dan is a Christian and not afraid to say he is. He is less guarded in his "blank wall" needs or beliefs and it feels more natural and normal to me than working with John did. Besides being good at what he does, Dan has a way of always seeing the positive - something that does not come naturally to me. As I shared with him on Tuesday all the fears, struggles, and frustrations of the previous Wednesday at church, he saw the progress. He saw the courage. He saw the getting up and brushing myself off and the determination to move on. I tend to see the mistakes and the never ending struggles to function in the denomination in which I was abused. Dan pointed out to me far more positive than any negative I could innumerate.

I also continue to talk via email with Sandy, my fellow survivor. One day, perhaps, she will write her story and let me post it on this blog. It is amazing how our journeys have paralleled each other's. Talking with her is meeting a need I did not know how to scratch. Being with my SNAP friends has been a powerful experience, yet this one is even more so. Sandy's abuse having happened at the same age of 17, in the same year as mine, at the hands of her youth pastor makes the connection powerful. The fact that she too has confronted her perpetrator and a regional minister in the same denomination, and contacted the national church adds a lot of parallels to share. I am presently reading her written account of those confrontations. I am reading slowly though and not late at night. The connection is so strong that her story sets off a plethora of feelings - anger being the primary one.

Well that should catch my friends up on the happenings of the last week. God continues to work and I continue to be grateful.

Another Survivor

2007-10-18T22:15:00.001-04:00

I met another survivor via email. We are oddly alike in age and experience. We even have kids the same age. It is exciting to talk to someone who has walked so close to where I have. Not only was she abused but at the same age I was - 17, but she has been asked to leave a church and she has a deep desire to take her story into ethics seminars and already has. This is really cool.

I also heard from Reg a couple of days ago and it was a courteous and comforting email. I don't know if I am different or if he worded things better but the flavor in my mouth after this one was of being cared about. He told me that my questions were important and he intended to give them his time - he just hasn't had time, yet. His assurance seemed honest.

On the negative end, I had a panic attack at church last night. I also had a cool revelation. As in the past, when I find myself in a safe place, a new dimension of pain and healing unveils itself. I think this new season is actually a biproduct of the safe environment.

So what was the panic attack all about? Well it isn't logical in the moment, but it is understandable in the past. I was suddenly terrified of being abandoned by Tom and his wife. Tom came over to our table and put his hand on my shoulder and my husbands and we talked a few moments. It would make sense that I would feel good and happy but it doesn't always work that way. When Tom walked away, my face started burning, then my arms and torso. I was beet red and then my chest began to tighten. No manner of common sense or talking myself out of it would work. This was surfacing from my subconscious and deep breathing and the works did no good.

I left and went outside and turned the a/c in my car onto my face, took a xanex, and wrestled with what to do next. I felt about a centimeter away from a call to the hospital. It took a good 20 minutes before I calmed down. By then I knew I had to speak to Tom or this was just going to escalate so I went back in and heard the end of his message and waited for a chance to speak.

We talked or rather he talked and I sobbed and said a few words between the heaves of pain. I also talked to Glenda, his wife. They were gracious though befuddled. Why would I fear abandonment now? They have done anything but abandon me.

I guess I am used to the inconsistencies and quirks of my emotional life and its total unpredictability, yet sharing it with them was somewhat humiliating. Now that I think about it, I don't think I have ever fallen apart with Tom. I've cried, tears running down my face, but nothing like the racking sobs I released last night - and that was after the xanex.

The buried emotions of the past are hard taskmasters at times. But the timing seems appropriate and perhaps even needed. Is it not like God to unearth our "stuff" when we can best handle it? Wouldn't it be just like him to deal with this now rather than when I face the church's task force? There is obviously some pain God is reaching in to deliver me from and I like the clay wait upon the potter's hands.

Firing a Shrink

2007-10-13T12:43:00.000-04:00

The title sounds harsh but the reality isn't. John has met my needs in a unique way over the past year and a half. He allowed me to test boundaries and try out my fledgling ones. Under his care I found my own secure boundaries as I learned experientially why they were needed. I have gained a new sense of security as I practice telling myself what is "my stuff" and what is someone else's. I have learned to not fight the humaness within me with such vigor and to surrender at times to the internal pressures.

Yet, on several occasions during the past 6 months, I have considered changing my personal therapist to the man who has seen my husband and I for 6 years. Dan and I have a relationship that transcends mine and John's. As I drove home on Tuesday evening and thought of the struggles and issues with Tom and his wife, subconsciously expecting to be betrayed, I didn't think of John and his support but rather that as long as Dan understood the dynamics at work in me and believed in my goodness that I could withstand whatever came my way. It was that moment that I knew it was time to change.

Dan agreed to see me personally and a letter is in the mail to John explaining things. We had talked a month ago about the possibility of this occuring, so John won't be totally broadsided by my decision.

I am sure it would be better if I went in to see John rather than tell him via letter, but insurance companies only pay for so many sessions and it is the end of the year. To use a session to talk to John about what I already talked with him about a month ago feels wasteful. At $150 a session, if he wants to talk, then let him do it out of heart and not my purse.

I bet there is a fortune of psychological issues in that last sentence!

Di

Betrayal

2007-10-12T20:59:00.000-04:00

I was 20. Sexually and emotionally exploited by my youth pastor at the age of 17, the shame and self doubt grew inside of me daily. I had left the denomination of my youth and joined a small congregation that met in the pastor's home. This man knew the scripture and lived the love within it. With my respect and heart, he grew to be like a father to me.

Then he betrayed me.

Eaten with guilt, I went to he and his wife over the relationship with Bob. They listened and prayed with me. Within two weeks he made his move.

I remember the moment. I remember the thoughts sizzling through my brain. "Now what do I do? This is it. It is over. I have lost it all. I can run or I can go along with his wants." I had been betrayed by a man who I had known for 3 years and who I trusted as my pastor. I had trusted him enough to share about the other abuse. It had never occurred to me that he too would exploit me.

The internal struggle began. I argued with myself but I always gave in. I hated myself for not being able to tell him "no" as the relationship intimately progressed. The need to be special was riveting. It was all a lie, but the lie was easier to believe than the truth. The only "truth" I could seem to believe was that something was terribly wrong with me.

In time the small congregation began to pick up on signals and at his wife's pressing, the elders (who were all men) met to discuss the situation. I was not invited. I was not questioned. Instead, I was disposable and the church, who I saw as my family, cast me out. The end. Goodbye. Go away. I was devastated and to this day, I know of no other memory that has brought me such pain.

What had this man told them? I do not know. He obviously did not tell them the truth. Yet, I was blind to this new betrayal and having been thrown out and pushed away, I picked up the phone and threw myself completely into the relationship he wanted. At least that way, I was not alone.

I saw him frequently until one week God got my attention. On the way to meet this "pastor", after a year of avoiding God, I heard God speak, "Di, I am removing my hand of protection from you." Three days of hell commenced. We were caught together twice, once by a mutual friend and once by his parents, and then on the third day, I swallowed a yellow jacket and it stung my throat and as my throat began to close I could only think, "God don't let me die here with him." On the way back to my car, I broke off our "affair".

We ended up attending the same church and telling the pastor of our past. He was a legalistic man but one who believed God could heal. I was broken and hungry for that healing. My ex-pastor-abuser talked with him first. When I went to see him and talk, it never occurred to me that my ex-perpetrator might have lied about me. What I heard, I thought I truly deserved: "Do you understand the seriousness of what you have done!?" Looking back, it seems obvious that the story was probably misrepresented once again and for the third time a man who was ready to leave his wife for me a few weeks prior, let me take the rap.

Finally after a year in this church, the pastor and the predator had a falling out, and the predator was prepared to take with him a large portion of the congregation. In anger, the pastor went to those leaving and told them of my perpetrator's sexual relationship with one of the single women. It took about 2 seconds for people to figure out it was me, so once again my trust was betrayed and my secret exposed. I learned of this after a Wednesday night meeting when in the midst of mingling about, I was approached with the news. It seems he did not mean to break my confidence...........

So what did my perpetrator do in the face of everyone knowing? He lied. He placed the blame on me. His story was of my pursuing him and his weakness and inability to fight me off. Once again I was betrayed. I was shunned and branded while those told rallied to his side.

He was a coward. Unwilling to face the truth and have the balls to come clean, he lived the remainder of his life without ever accepting his responsibility. He died 2 years ago after suffering from some type of neurological disease.

I never denied my involvement. I didn't blame him any more than myself. I thought it was equally my fault. I accepted the part of it that was mine plus a whole lot more. No one understood the dynamics of power relationships back then. I knew this had happened to me, and never to anyone else, so there must be some terrible flaw in my soul.

Thirty five years later the past, at times, still controls me. Transference walks with me today. Tonight it is heavily consuming me and I continue to run and hide. Why should Tom be any different? How do I know he is different? When will he too betray me?

Di

Resolution

2007-10-11T20:29:00.000-04:00

Outwardly at least. For me, inwardly, there is a ton of mess that is far from resolved.

I talked with Tom last night and his wife. There was a lot of honesty on their part and I apologized for some accusations I made via email. Outwardly things are ok and I think inwardly the two of them are probably better than I am.

Probably the most difficult issue for me is the inability to explain the dichotomy of what I feel. I would have, myself, once invalidated the reality of what I am now dealing with. Yet it is real and perhaps unimaginable to anyone who has not traversed these seas. Though they are trying to wrap their minds around the reality of all this dynamic with me, they haven't been there, haven't been trained to be there, and don't really comprehend the power that the damage has on my perceptions. I can't figure out how to explain the power of it. And until last night I didn't even realize how screwed up my perceptions were.

How does one explain the weight of the past when it invades the present? Transference is so real to me, I try to face and avoid it, and I still fall into it repeatedly. I am transfering more onto Tom than I even knew. I don't trust him. That is a statement about me and not him. Note I did not say that he is not trustworthy. I trust him to show sexual integrity but I do not trust him to be honest with me or anyone else in relation to me. I don't trust him to tell the truth and all the truth and when he tells me that he doesn't remember the details of a conversation, I haven't believed him. Once again this is not about him and his honesty but about a very real condition inside of me. It is as if I am waiting for him to sacrifice me in order to protect himself just like Bob and Minton did.

Now that I see this I can work on it, but until last night I had not seen it.

If Tom tells me one thing and then 2 weeks later forgets what he told me, I think he is backtracking and lying to me. I think he is purposely changing his attitude towards me. Let me give a simple example. Back before I sent Reg the letter, I talked on the phone with Tom and Tom lovingly and enthusiastically gave me his word that he would go with me if I was given the chance to speak to the regional ministry commission. I remembered this especially because I had not asked for this committment and he offered it freely. I was truly touched and there seemed so much healing in that offer. Then after I heard back from Reg and he said I would be contacted by the task force to share, Tom, upon my question if he would go with me to this, said he didn't know. He was hesitant, said they might not want him there. They might want to talk to him separately later. It was a very different statement than a month prior.

Did Tom forget what he had told me? Or had he lied to me about what was in his heart towards me? Was it all a game and when it cost him, was he not going to stand with me?

Do you know that even as I KNOW that he must have forgotten, I can't embrace that in my heart. I have been so betrayed, that to relate to Tom and not expect to be betrayed is foreign. It is like trying to learn a new language and even though I can say the words, I still think in the old language. That old language is a part of me and has well warned tracks in my mind. What is totally freaky is that only now do I realize I have all along been braced for Tom to betray me too.

None of this is about Tom. I want to trust him, but I don't. It is about me but in a broader sense it is about abuse and the impact it has on one's life.

The good thing is that with this now exposed to the light, I will be able to begin to tear this down. I just wish it hadn't taken such a painful week for all 4 of us for me to see this. And I wish the tearing down was going to be easy - but it won't be.

Childish Thoughts

2007-10-07T01:07:00.000-04:00

Today I forgot to take my medicine. Today I wrestled a lot with my pain and sadness. Today I vascillated between the adult and the child.

I saw new truths and celebrated that I am not falling forever into the pit of depression but was able to catch myself and accept the reality of my woundedness and oversensitivity to both failure and criticism. I have not flipped into self hatred but understand why I do this and accept it is par for the course. The child begins to unfold and sit up in the comfort of knowing she is understood and welcomed.

I saw the manipulation this could easily turn into and the hell of waiting to hear from Tom and measuring my value on how long that takes and decided to not play that game with myself. I emailed Tom an open statement explaining my condition. I hope he can gain some further understanding of a survivor who sometimes feels like the victim again.

I know he will read these posts and probably die of embarrassment and hate the attention but to leave it unsaid denies the reality of my woundedness and prevents others from seeing all that is there. I feel a faithful need to share the healthy and the not so healthy. All of this is simply the reality of the internal life of one abused by pastors.

I Still Quit.......

2007-10-05T18:28:00.000-04:00

....but quitting is harder than it might seem.

My day went well. I talked with my mentee about surviving with her team member, and I was given a big hug by my principal. I think the latter was an apology for jumping to conclusions and chewing me out via email the previous morning.

None of that really seems to matter, because I feel stuck in the muck of Wednesday night.

I know Tom cares about me. He is a good man. Not perfect, but a man of integrity and God's love. I am not discarding my relationship with him. However, I have no clue how to move ahead. My fear of further pain is overwhelming. It hurts to not hear from him, but neither do I want to talk to him. The undertones in his speech on Wednesday impacted me more than I would have imagined it could. It seems the wounded child remains under the surface more than I was aware.

There was a time a few years back when I would hit this kind of spot with my therapist Cheryl. We always managed to work through it, but Cheryl had the training and understanding of a therapist. She knew me inside and out and knew when to push and when to back off. She read me like a book and if what she said frightened me, she softened it.

Tom, doesn't have the same skill. This is real life. Tom and I disagree and I interpret that as rejection. I know it is not, but in the moment, the child within curls and withdraws and remains too wounded to uncurl and be vulnerable. Yet, she is miserable and alone and the depression grows.

I have been plagued with thoughts of suicide for the first time in months. No intent and too much love of my family, but nevertheless there it is on the dark edges of my mind. I plummet into a hole, very real inside the abused youth.

I want to plead, "Bob forced me to play by his rules, Tom. The church is demanding I play by theirs. Can't you play by my rules? Can't you tread softly and gently? Can't you remember my brokenness even when I am not acting broken? Can't you understand what no one else in the church seems to be willing to recognize - I am a wounded sheep trying my best but nevertheless beaten and broken and trampled upon? I try to be a survivor, but sometimes I am engulfed by the victim."

I Quit

2007-10-04T21:23:00.000-04:00

I did. And, I didn't do a very good job of it.

I talked with Tom last night and he was evidently not too happy that I shared my situation at the national level. He seemed to think my motivation was something it wasn't. It never occured to me that they would talk - region and national church. Perhaps naive. Perhaps just needy and not thinking.

Tom and I only talked briefly but it was enough for me to feel chastised and hurt. I know Tom well enough to know it was not his intent, but nevertheless I can't handle being confronted so bluntly. I can't handle his being angry at me. I can't handle his displeasure. Whether I want to be or not, I am wounded. I will probably always be wounded easily as far as he is concerned. It is a side effect of the abuse and one that will take a long time to get over. I can't help it. This is what happens. It seems to frustrate him that I can't just get over it and be who I would be if it hadn't happened. Instead I cycle through emotions that are not rational on one level but very rational on another. A pastor abused me, remember. Abuse is real. It impacts lives and it still has its brand on mine, deeper than I act on the outside, deeper than I want to admit, but oh is it there and it has its cruel claws in my heart.

Mine and Tom's conversation was interrupted shortly after it began and I left and came home. I couldn't stay for Wednesday night supper because I was going to fall apart and cry if I tried to. To his credit, Tom called later in the evening and offered to continue the conversation, but I turned down the offer. My heart had been kicked whether he meant to or not and I could not argue or protect myself so I hid.

Instead, I emailed Tom and told him I quit. I can manage to handle Reg's displeasure or the chair's displeasure, which I must have, because he won't return any of my email either, but I cannot juggle Tom's displeasure. I seem doomed to fail, to make mistakes, to be human and a wounded one at that. So, I quit. Sort of.

I emailed the national minister asking her to not pass on my email and she had not sent it but the phone call from the national office to the region had already occured. Alas, I can only appeal to her to try and prevent this from caving in around my ears - only it is not my ears I am most worried about. I cannot handle Tom's disapproval and that makes me angry at myself. This has cost me so much lately that part of me wishes it would fail.

So for a while, at least, I quit. For a while my heart needs to pull in and hide. Perhaps I have been asking more of myself than I can give. It hurts to quit, too though, but it should quit hurting in a few days and I can bury myself in school work.

You know, when it rains it pours. I asked for some direction this morning from my principal and ended up with her mad at me because she misunderstood my request. Then the vice principal gave me orders to help my mentee deal with her team leader. Her team leader is the reason I left the team and they had an opening in the first place! So how does this stubborn and wounded woman help another more stubborn and more impulsive woman get along with another woman that she herself could not get along with?

I will accept counseling now. Or how about some encouragement. Or maybe a lot of prayer. I'm pretty discouraged. I took up my cross and I feel as if I just got nailed to it.

Will the church ever stop putting nails through me?

Di

Letter to the General Minister

2007-10-01T21:55:00.001-04:00

I sent an email to the minister hired at the national level in the denomination to do the same job that Reg does at the state level. She is a she! She replied today, and asked if she could forward my email to the national level chair.

It was a nice feel to hear back so quickly and feel appreciated.

I told my basic story and of my desire to help fashion the way a response is made to a report.

Below is the reply I received:

Dear Diane,Thank you for trusting me with your story. I praise God that you have been able to begin a journey toward healing. I think it is time to review our policies with a particular view toward how we walk along side people who have experienced clergy sexual misconduct. I would like, with your permission, to forward your letter (or another one if you prefer) to the chair of the General Ministry. Again thanks - and God bless you.

It especially felt nice to hear from a woman!

Today's Revelations

2007-09-30T21:28:00.001-04:00

After spending the past few days a little under the weather and very depressed emotionally, I found a large volume of anger inside. I am in the process of acknowledging the anger and releasing it out of me.

I certainly have reason to be angry at the church government. I have reason to not trust them. Anger, however seems to do nothing to bring about change, but instead it ravages me. I am miserable when I am very angry. Once I recognize the anger and can find waves to vent it - usually emailing or talking to someone I trust - the emotional effect lessens.

After meeting with Bob and talking with him on two occassions on the phone, I realized that the past regional minister had been duped. Bob was upset but upset does not equal repentant. Neither is he flagrantly declaring he was not wrong. Instead he seems incapable of focussing his mind on any of it. He seemed to mentally dance around it all, and, when confronted with his own denial, appeared confused. To see himself clearly as God sees him is evidently beyond his capability. To me this is a sad existence. It is only in seeing truth that we experience God's grace. God's grace makes seeing truth worth it every time.

Sharing my desire to see mandatory psychological testing done with all reported cases of misconduct was far from embraced by Reg, the present regional minister. His further aluding to the fact that he disagrees with a fair amount of what I wrote him has me wondering what kind of Christian he is. And I am angry.

I am angry that he is not willing to take a stronger stand, that he seems to be aligning himself with Bob. "If you are not with me then you are with Bob," is not a very rational statement but I think it is reasonable for me to feel. It also frustrates me that Reg's lack of full response to my verbal appeal and my written letter has not occured. The first time he alluded to an answer but did not state it clearly. The second time he did not refer to my questions at all. Was that intentional? Surely it must be.

I am angry at Reg and the past top dog. I feel an attempt by both men to silence me and not stir things up for Bob's family. I am angry about Bob's silencing me for so many years. I am angry that society silenced me all those years.

I am angry that Tom seemed to want to silence my complaints, as well, in defending Reg to me. I am angry that the chair of the regional minsterial committee hasn't gotten back with me after he said he would. I hear, "Ignore her and she will eventually get quiet."

I feel as if too many men are patting me on the head and saying, "Now, now, don't be so upset," when in reality there is much to be upset about.

Don't worry, I know that I can't remain in this angry state. I know that it is good to find resolution and a place of release and forgiveness. I also know that stuffing it down isnt' the way to get there, at least for me it never works that way. I always seem doomed to experience the anger fully, face the damage and pain inflicted by others, and only then can I find resolution and the ability to release the other from my unforgiveness.

Closure After Abuse

2007-09-29T11:30:00.000-04:00

As I was defending my need to write a 2 1/2 page letter to the regional minister and expecting a reply to all the issues I discussed, I discovered why I am less driven to get online and post my thoughts.

Closure. This summer when I confronted Bob, I found my voice and I used it. I spoke truth. I spoke of my own pain. I confronted a man in denial with the reality he cannot see. In finding my voice, I found closure in my experience with my perpetrator.

While I have wanted to add to my story and fill in the blanks between the abuse and my present, I find it difficult to find the words. When I began the blog, I found it difficult to wait a few hours to post what I was feeling and the words filled the page easily.

Closure is evidently a real experience. Now to find that same closure with the church.

Revision of Clergy Misconduct Policy

2007-09-28T21:28:00.000-04:00

It seems that the church is going to review the misconduct policy. I received an email from the regional minister two days ago and the ministry commission followed his counsel to appoint a task force to review the misconduct policy. He tells me that I will be invited to share with this task force once it is functioning.

Emotions are strange things. I wish I could tell you that I am jumping up and down with joy. It would seem I have a reason to rejoice. Instead, I have felt sad and numb for the past two days. Too sad and too numb to write the post.

Reg's response was brief. He left several questions unanswered and several revelations unresponded to.

I talked with Tom about the reply and expressed my ambivalence. I think he is frustrated with me. He wants to defend Reg and does so, until I argue with him a while. He seems to trust Reg but I do not. God spoke to my heart that I could trust Tom. Before I ever talked with him, I knew he was part of my healing. I do not trust Reg. That doesn't mean he is not trustworthy but while I have faith that God has placed Tom in my life for good, I am not in the least bit sure of that with Reg.

Here is Reg's reply:

I wanted to just quickly respond that I got your letter. Even as you wrote it I suspect you knew that I would not agree with everything in it. Thankfully, I believe that agreeing with a person is not the criteria for care concern and compassion towards another person. We are called to love each other regardless of agreement so I want to extend to you my expression again of my concern and care for you.
This past weekend, the Regional board acted upon the recommendation I made that a task force be appointed to work on reviewing and updating our procedures for response to Sexual Misconduct by clergy. Because the Ministry Commission has such an incredible workload, we felt it would get things accomplished quicker if we appointed a separate panel. That panel is being appointed and as soon as they begin meeting we will find an opportunity for your input to them.
I can’t predict the time line right now, but wanted to let you know that we are serious about responding to the issues you have raised and want to do so in a timely fashion.

May God continue to bless you

Reg

I have no clue what he disagrees with. Perhaps I will ask him.

Di

The Power of a Golf Ball

2007-09-16T21:31:00.000-04:00

Amazing thing, recreation is. I have taken up golf again and found it to be just what I need to get my mind and focus off of the stresses and anxieties of pastoral abuse and work as well. Nothing is quite like hitting that golf ball to release the tension and to give me a sense of accomplishment - when it goes somewhere near to where I intend. Oh heck, even when it lands in the creek, I enjoy it.

Teaching is hard. People think that teachers get this lovely 2 months or more off every summer. Well, in reality, teachers work those hours during the other 10 months. I still haven't gotten everything caught up from the start of school. Getting there but not there yet. Stress builds.

I have been reasonably at peace waiting these two weeks for Reg's reply to my letter. I talked to Tom this morning and he is expecting a positive reply and thinks, but is not sure, I will receive more than I am expecting. He has obviously been on the phone with Reg, but I did not ask too many details. Of course that makes my mind leap off in all sort of directions. My hope is to be asked to participate in a task force to strengthen the pastoral misconduct policy. Even better, I hope to hear that Tom himself is going to chair it. Now that would be a slice of heaven.

I went out to the driving range this afternoon and hit 75 golf balls and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening grading 600 papers to keep my mind off of it. Obviously the 75 golf balls did me the most good.

My talk with Tom this morning was just a casual one. I had requested it after I mailed the letter and this is the first time we could arrange our schedules. I have been ok so I didn't have much to talk about, but I didn't want to throw away the opportunity to just relate. Each time I talk with Tom, I come away with more healing. Piece by piece and bit by bit I find it. I also find an inner strength inside that I did not have when I began this blog. I am growing through this adventure and learning how to stand up for what is right. My view of myself is more secure and confident. My trust of my abilities grows.

In all of this I honor God's work. How appropriate and miraculous that the healing I am now receiving is coming through the heart of another pastor in the same denomination. It isn't just Tom though, it is the church. The church as a whole knows nothing of my past journey and I plan to keep it that way. They however have given me much of what I need, unconditional love and acceptance and a place to grow.

I will let all of you know when I hear from Reg. In the meantime I ask for your prayers. A less than positive response will not be easy to receive.

Reply Ready to Fly

2007-09-03T11:06:00.000-04:00

My reply to Reg is finally written and will soon be in the mail. I have been waiting on my pastor, Tom's, input and he was out of town. When I saw him at church yesterday, he gave his go, said I did not need a letter from him to accompany mine because he had already done some behind the scenes work. He expects my letter to be received well.

As to what behind the scenes work Tom has done, I am trusting him and his heart. He seemed hesitant to fill me in on the details and I didn't push. If Tom won't tell me, it is usually because he is protecting someone else's confidence as I would want him to protect mine.

My husband wrote a letter to accompany mine, advocating for my voice to be heard. I will include it in a later post.

The highlights of my letter include a response to his "acceptance" of the differences in mine and Bob's story:

You are right that we both probably believe our own statement is true and that this should lead to a great deal of discomfort on the part of the hearer. However only one rendition is true and your statement that this must simply be accepted is completely unacceptable to me.

Much of my proposal is based on the premise that the discrepancies in our testimonies are reason for many red flags. It is a fact that few victims lie. It is also a fact, actually stated in the Church’s present policy, that many accused do lie. What is not stated and is even more disturbing is the fact that perpetrators exist who can so compartmentalize their memories that they display complete denial of the truth. With a denial of truth comes an inability to find repentance or internal change. Looking toward the future, this type of discrepancy must be dealt with, and the many ways I proposed dealing with it need to be heard, wrestled with, and done so by the whole commission.

In another paragraph I address the shocking revelation that the current file contains my agreement to the monitoring of Bob that was to occur:

Your statement that the file contains my approval of the monitoring process was shocking and grievous. I was unaware that I had held any voice or right to agree or disagree with this setup. I was unaware that my reticent and weak “ok” was being viewed as an official statement of agreement with the decision. No one sat down with me, as I now know the policy states, and I was not informed in the conversation that my agreement was being sought. Instead in an unannounced phone conversation from Tom Neal, I was informed that some type of monitoring would occur but was denied further information as to the form or extent of the monitoring. I remember Tom Neal repeating his statement and my feeling a sense of pressure from him to give some statement of agreement. I reluctantly and half heartedly gave an “ok”. I believe the exact words to his question of my agreement was “I guess,” not exactly a resounding agreement. Tom’s pressure now seems one more use of a pastor’s power to get what they need at my expense. This realization that my approval was sought in a less than forthright way is disturbing.

I also wrote a heartfelt appeal to Reg's evident decision that my voice not be heard by the state ministerial committee.

In the first and last paragraph, you state: “I assure you that your concerns will be presented to the Ministry Commission when they get going on revising the documents for ministry,” and “Again I assure you that I will make sure your input is received.” These statements appear to be a response to my request to present my own suggestions to the ministry commission. I am not content with your response. I have the unique ability to explain the needs of the victim from an experiential perspective. Though I appreciate your willingness to try, you, nor anyone else, can share with the passion or illumination that originates in my experience.

I have decided that in some way, my voice will be heard by the leadership of the Church. My desire is that this would happen in a similar setting and atmosphere as my conversation with you occurred. I desire to sit down and work with the Commission on Ministry as an invited individual with important experiences and strategies to suggest. I would like to be involved with a task force that is looking at and forming a newly revised policy. I am offering to give rather than to take.

If you remember, I asked (the previous state minister), via email, to be allowed to speak to the commission members, but my request never received a reply and the ministry commission met without me. I felt dishonored and silenced by this lack of acknowledgement. I need the present commission to offer me an opportunity to speak, as evidence of their good faith. I am requesting that you reconsider this decision and that you talk further with (the chair of the ministerial group) and other leaders on the commission before providing me with a clear answer to my request.

While other points are discussed, such as the role of an advocate, these 3 areas are the main thrust of my letter. Tom seems to think the road is paved for my reception. I remain in doubt, and by keeping my hopes at bay, prepare myself for the next step if I my request to speak is rejected.

I have to wonder if the state realizes that I probably have a valid law suit over the policy not being followed as it was written. While I have no desire to hold this over their head, it seems evident to me that I am offering a win-win scenario here. They have nothing to lose by accepting my input and a lot to lose if they do not. Out of my request, they gain important input and I gain the hearing of my voice by the region in which I was abused. They gain a strong and protective policy while I see powerfully positive results proceding from my pain. I believe God truly desires to turn the darkness into His light for all of us and I believe my chosen path is the path of God's desire for all. Pray that they will see this.

A Dream

2007-08-20T20:55:00.000-04:00

There was a special rock thats existence was told to me. I longed to go see it, but when my friends went they left me behind. I was so upset that 3 of them chose to accompany me on the voyage though it was a strange and magical one.

This voyage occured largely in the mind.

Though the rock was only a short distance away, to be reached a land that could not be traversed had to be crossed. The only way to reach the stone was to go underground and follow the paths and tunnels that first dove deep into the land then climbed steeply upward to the rock.

The four of us began our decent, sneaking into the tunnel while others looked for us in the wrong places. Down we went into the stifling tunnels that caused my fear of being crushed wanted to scream. We stopped and the Presence drew us a map on the wall and my fear quieted as I saw where I needed to go. Down we inched with the Presence. Then we swooped and swooshed around corners and bends at a rapid rate as our feet were swept out from under us. The heat became unbearable and I longed to be free.

The bottom was reached and we began the long climb up. My muscles ached and we came to a ledge where my friends told me that they had been before and not to fear because in the end we would be fine. The inhabitants of this strange land took us and staked us out on the cliffs but as we spoke the stakes came apart, our bodies were freed, and we taught of our God and fed the people spiritual food as they shared their physical food with us.

Onward we needed to climb, leaving friends behind who had begun as enemies. We stepped and moved upward and each aching step seemed fruitless and small but carried hope for I knew the journey had been completed before. We became exhausted and fell asleep on yet another ledge , only to awaken and find ourselves in a battle for our lives. In the end there stood two sets of swords rising up from the ground, in honor of two of my fallen friends. What grief! This was not how this journey was to unfold. How could this happen? How could this magical world really exist and cause such pain? And then I knew!

I reentered the tube of tunnels and there they were waiting for us, the two that had fallen, alive and well and smiling. They said we were almost there and so we reached up and commanded our feet to move upward one more small step after another - wondering how we would have the strength to return.

Then suddenly there it stood, that rock so large and full of pebbles. So unique. So different from all the rock surrounding it. Soft and sedimentary, formed as pebbles landed on the bottom of some stream to be gathered together and solidified into one large stone. Around it was all fine grained and strained metamorphic rock that had undergone the stresses of time and the heat and pressure of immense strain. All of the rock had been changed. All of the rock had faced this horrible pressing and pushing and forcing into some other type of rock, and yet, miraculously stood this large lens of stone in the midst and it was unchanged.

And I knew that this stone resided in my heart, one piece protected by God, unchanged from his original purpose and still soft, waiting.....

Emotions and a Response

2007-08-18T18:30:00.000-04:00

The past several days have been busy with 7th graders and labs. The evenings have been emotional. Though I tried to sit and compose my reply to Reg, I found I could not. I could not write a post either. Finally last night, I let all the anger come to the surface. I thought I was going to explode. Then with the anger readily available, I worked on what was my stuff and what was Reg's.

Interestingly, earlier in the day, I had spoken to one of my students who had received the brunt of some bullying in my homeroom class. He was in tears. As I comforted him, I heard myself teaching: Greg, I want you to think about this. When someone treats you like that, it is not a statement about who you are, but rather a very loud statement about who they are. What the other boys did does not define you Greg, but rather it says a lot about Tom and Jack. I could see his wheels turning.

And so also did mine last night. I had to unload the gun. I was ready to fire. When I am that angry, it is usually because I am letting someone else have more power in my life than they deserve. I arose from bed this morning able to write for the first time in days. Rather than calling Reg the names I wanted to call him last night, I was able to compose a first draft that is clear if not concise.

I reiterated my feelings on sharing with the ministerial leaders of the state.

"I have decided that in some way, my voice will be heard by the leadership of the Church. My desire is that this would happen in a similar setting and atmosphere as my conversation with you occurred. I desire to sit down and work with the (leaders of the state) as an invited individual with important experiences and strategies to suggest. I would love to be involved with a task force that is looking at and forming a newly revised policy. I am offering to give rather than to take. This is something few victims can do or would offer to do."

As you can see, I added a little more umph to my appeal.

In Reg's response to me, he informed me that it was in the file that I had agreed to the monitoring being set up on Bob. This was news to me, but as I thought about it, I did remember the previous minister pressing me as to my verbal response to his informing me that some type of monitoring would occur. I was not happy that he was unwilling to inform me of the details but in the moment of a phone call, I simply replied "ok". My tone was hesitant. I only gave the ok as I was pushed to do so.

I told Reg of this memory and shock that something so informal and of which I was totally unaware of it being viewed official was in the file. I feel as if I was tricked into something I was unaware of.

"I remember being told that some type of monitoring would occur. I was not given any detail, even though I questioned it, nor was it suggested that I had the right to disagree with the decision. I was unaware that my “ok” was being interpreted as giving my approval. I do remember some intensity on TN’s part, over the phone, to get me to give some sense of agreement, though at the time I was reticent and in the present this seems one more use of a pastor’s power to get what they need at my expense. Let me just reiterate that I was unaware that my opinion carried any weight or purpose. I feel now that I was coerced into giving a weak statement of agreement that was then recorded as something I did not even know I had given."

As you can see this is not something I want to see in the denomination I attend. Pure out and out deceit on their part or at least on the part of one man who attempted to run the whole show. Now, I am beginning to expect it. Shut the victims up and get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible seems to be the "justice" of the church.

I am hearing it once again from another regional minister. "No, you may not speak," is being spoken again. It will only require one more "no" for them to discover my "yes" is much louder.

I repeat - sadly but determined. I will not be silenced. Truth will prevail. Truth will be heard. It will be their decision as to whether they choose to embrace it but they will hear it. Let them face their God with their fingers in their ears, if they choose. However, they cannot defeat truth as long as our God lives.

The Pain of Sexual Abuse Continues

2007-08-15T21:34:00.001-04:00

It doesn't stop. It still inflicts its pain. I guess it will until heads are out of the sand and shame is destroyed along with the lies people choose to believe.

Tonight as I told my mom that I was sharing the children's sermon in two weeks, she challenged, "Why don't you both join the church?" I am not even sure how I answered her. I remember telling her that it might not ever happen. Talk about timing?! It wasn't her intent to hurt me and to answer her honestly would have hurt her. I do not want to hurt her.

So, on other hard questions. What do I want my reply to Reg to say?

I want it to be forthright and not murky as his reply to me was. I am not a murky person. I prefer to speak the truth in love. I believe God honors that.

I want to be honest in letting him know that I do not intend to remain silent in this. I do not want that to sound like a threat though.

I want to open his eyes to the fact that those he is trying to protect from the embarrassment of this issue are going to be hurt more if I am shut out.

I want to impress upon him that this is a passionate issue and the passion cannot be removed from it.

I want to say that though his intent might be to share my points, since he seemed to not agree with them, he cannot do them the same justice I can.

I want to challenge his statement on accepting the differences in mine and Bob's story. This is very dangerous and I want to point that out to him.

I want to make it clear that I was never given the opportunity to give my opinion of the monitoring of Bob. I was TOLD that some would occur but not given any details and lead to believe I was not welcome to them. That is very different from saying I supported the direction it was going.

I also want to make it clear that I requested to talk with the previous state minister about an advocate after having originally been unsure of that desire. And I asked to speak directly to the state ministerial committee. My email was never answered.

He states there was some form of a response team but they never contacted me. I would like to know if there names are listed and if it was noted as to why I was not contacted by them.

I also intend to send the letter to the chair of the state ministerial commission.

I do not expect to be heard or to be allowed to speak. Yet, I have to try before I can take other roads to being heard. I forwarded Reg's email to David Clohessy yesterday and heard back from him today. He is the national leader of SNAP. I replied to his reply asking if he would help me if I decide to go public with this. He said he would be honored to help me. I hope it never comes to that. God, please open their eyes! This cannot be avoided. It has to be faced no matter how uncomfortable.

I am reminded of Trey Morgan's blog (http://www.treymorgan.net/2007/03/sexual-misconduct-among-church-leaders.html) and this quote:

"There are more questions that need to be answered. And this is a subject that we "as Christians and as a church" have ignored. "

I thank you Trey for not sticking your head in the sand! I wish you had the power to pull a few out for me right now. I wish all ministers were like you. Once again the church has hurt me. But men like Trey and Tom stand in righteousness and in the heart of Christ. I thank God for them.

The State Minister Avoids Truth

2007-08-14T20:33:00.000-04:00

Is it possible to accept both my statement and Bob's as truth?

No. One of us is not being truthful. Either I am lying. Bob is lying. I have deceived myself and believe I am telling the truth but am not. Or Bob has deceived himself and believes he is telling the truth but is not. (And yes, I know those are not complete sentences but it reads easier that way, fellow educators and writers.)

I have no reason to lie if Bob's truth is the truth. So be it. It was still abuse. He was still my youth pastor. There is no more shame in it for me that way. If it was true I would simply say it was true. He however has much to lose. It is the difference between his being a pedophile and predator or making a one time mistake. Big difference. Big difference in how many victims still exist out there hurting like me.

Reg, emailed me his reply today. He chooses to believe both of us, which essentially says he believes some weird kind of lie. Let me quote him:

"I believe honestly that your story is true. I also believe Bob’s recounting is true as well. Even though the statements may indeed differ, I believe both can be true statements of what each person believes. That difference, though it is uncomfortable, cannot be eliminated. It must simply be accepted."

No it cannot be accepted! This goes against my whole push for testing of perpetrators. It needs to make us uncomfortable enough to do something to stop the Bob's ever abusing again. We cannot simply say, oh my this makes me uncomfortable but I must accept it!!! That is not what God says. He says His word discerns the truth and rightly divides the truth from lies. Let him divide it. I stand before him willing to have that truth divided. Why, because I speak the truth. Anything I have been gray on I have avoided sharing.

As one of my books said earlier this week: "You will see the truth and after it has caused you to flinch a few times it will set you free." I can handle Bob's inability to see the truth - he is a sick sociopath and as such isn't supposed to be able to see the truth. Reg however is not supposed to be sociopathic but he sure has his head in the sand.

I am in shock. Reg says HE will share with the state ministers my desires. This is in direct opposition to what I requested. I choose to share it myself. It will cost me to do what I may need to do but it will cost me more to remain silent.

I called Tom, who read the email reply and called me back this evening to talk more. His statement was to remain calm and know this is not the end of it. I hope the rest of the ministerial commission is more like Tom than Reg. Our plan is to pray for a few days and contemplate on our reply to Reg. We (Tom is using the "We".) need to work at getting from point A (me not sharing in person) to point B (me sharing in person). I explained to Tom why Reg could not do this for me. He didn't even support my suggestions. He did not want the mandatory testing. There is no way he can present that in a convincing way. I can though.

Tom is very aware that I will not stop if not allowed to speak at the state ministers leadership committee. I have told him that I can easily send a letter to every church in this state and the two other states that Bob pastored in. I can explain my mission and tell my story. I can make phone calls. I can even talk to the national group working on this same issue.

This is very hard my friends. I thank God for my husband who has come to me and hugged and held me many times tonight and my pastor who unconditionally believes every word I have spoken.

Faith

2007-08-10T20:47:00.000-04:00

Have you ever stepped out in faith and then realized that you left your faith somewhere back behind you. That is what I realized a few moments ago.

I have contacted the state minister and now the chair of the state ministerial team, both out of a sense of God's purpose. Suddenly I realize that I have little faith that either will respond in such a way as to accomplish much. My expectation is that they will sound good but offer little.

I was wondering if this was just my own transference from past experiences, when I realized that it is not simply a matter of trusting them but also of trusting God. I know that when we trust God, it does not always mean that we are trusting him to work it out the way we want. Instead, I know that trusting God means that I believe He will work it out with his arms around me and with nothing for naught. In the least, my heart will be changed and I will grow. Whatever happens, His arms of grace and healing and strength will surround me. If I cannot look into the eyes of men and believe they will come through for me and other victims, I can look into the eyes of God and believe He will stand with me, proud of me, never tiring of working His will, His love, His mercy, His strength, and His grace into my life.

Victim to Survivor: Women Recovering from Clergy Sexual Abuse

2007-08-09T19:16:00.000-04:00

The title of my post is the title of a new book I just received in the mail yesterday. The book is composed of 6 women's journeys through similar situations that I have experienced. I have only read the foreward by Marie Fortune and felt a need to share parts of it with you.

"The miracle of these stories (and the hundreds more like them) is that these women are the church, the broken body of Christ seeking to be made whole through the courage to demand justice. In their pain, these women call upon the church to be the church, and they really expect those of us in the institutional church to rise to the occasion. Tragically, all too often we have failed them. We have sent them away with a stone instead of the bread they deserved. Yet often, like the persistent widow in Luke's Gospel (18:2-7), they have gone back again and again to the unjust judge, demanding to be vindicated." (p. ix)

"Only occasionally (and I write this with a profound heaviness in my own heart) have such women found a just and compassionate response from their church. All too often they have been blamed, rejected, stigmatized, persecuted, and revictimized. Many have left the church in order to survive. But we must remember that they did not leave voluntarily; they were driven away by an institution that failed in its responsibility to protect its people from the unethical and exploitative practices of its leaders. Those who have left represent a huge loss for us all. Their skills, energy, and faith are no longer available to us for the ministry fo the church. A few have stayed, buoyed by a just and reasonable response. Many of these who have stayed now work from the inside to change the practices that they know are so harmful to congregants." (p. x)

"When these women brought complaints, they met with varying degrees of success. A wide range of responses are possible, from the tragic and outrageous to the good and solid. In my experience, the church is more likely to disappoint than to satisfy the needs of the survivor. But don't let this necessarily discourage you from trying. If and when you are ready, are feeling stong enough to sustain an effort, and have some system of support around you, you may choose to bring a complaint as part of your own healing process. Lower your expectations below what you deserve, and you may be surprised by getting more than you expected. " (p. xiii)

"For those of us who remain in the church and are committed to making it as safe a place as possible for those who turn to it, we must recognize that the stories we read here (along with many others) are a gift to us. They are the gift of the truth about who we are as church and what we need to do to be faithful to our call to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. These women speak truth to power in the hope that they will be heard and that things will be changed. It is a painful truth. As a colleague of mine says (in paraphrasing John 8:32), 'You will know the truth, and the truth will make you flinch before it sets you free.'" (p. xvi)

I think there is little I can add except to say it is good to not be alone.

Hurry Up and Wait

2007-08-08T21:02:00.000-04:00

I was talking with one of my team members at school today. She commented that her weaknesses were impatience and a need to be in control. I told her that we were destined to either kill each other or be good friends because we understood each other well.

Today was the first with students and I am exhausted but haven't posted in a while and thought it would be good to add a brief update.

I have not yet heard any response from Reg. I am expecting some kind of reply in the next week. I also emailed an old friend of my brother's who it turns out is the chair of the state ministerial association. He however is waiting at the bedside of his mother who is not expected to live much longer.

Thus the title of my post. I have no choice but to wait, yet with each day I become more frustrated and more determined that I will not be silenced this time. My email to Jay, my brother's friend was out of both of those emotions. If the ball is not picked up and run with, I will give it a swift boot, hopefully with God's blessing.

It remains my heart to make positive differences in the lives of others. Too many times the church however chooses to white wash over abuse out of denial or their own pastoral softness. As I talked with Reg, it was obvious that the concepts of Bob's mental/emotional condition being as bad as I described them was not something he wanted to believe. Three or four times he tried to pad the worst and suggest some other remote option.

We are all that way, not wanting to wrap our minds around the worst especially if we know the worst is about a person we care about. Once again it all boils down to truth and our willingness to face it. Truth is a hard thing to face but with it comes the move of God's Spirit.

Please pray that the truth will prevail and this denomination will care for its sheep by coming down firmly and decisively against pastoral sexual misconduct. Pray they can't sweep it under the rug. And please pray that I have the ability to continue to hear God's leading and the stamina to do this. I know I will be both crushed and angered if my thoughts and requests are shrugged off.

Yet, I am determined that good will come from the pain I suffered, that my journey will not be for naught, that others will be handled better, and that I can see one good consequence of my pain.

Recovering the Lost Self by Elisabeth A. Horst

2007-08-04T17:19:00.000-04:00

I found a wonderful source of encouragement and healing in a little booklet entitled Recovering the Lost Self: Shame-Healing for Victims of Clergy Sexual Abuse by Elisabeth A. Horst. Packed into 54 pages is much of what I learned over the past 7 years.

Horst is a psycholgist on the board of the Interfaith Sexual Trauma Institute, the organization birthed by Marie Fortune. Much of the book expounds on the story in Mark 5 of the woman with the hemorrhage and her determination to obtain healing.

Some powerful excerpts from the book follow:

"Any relationship founded in the exploitation of power will produce shame, whether or not the participants are aware of it at the time." (p. 26)

"Any time one person treats another as an extension of the self, as a thing to be used to gratify needs rather than as a self-directed, separate self with its own needs and interests the user shames the one used. Sexual abuse is a primary example of a shaming interaction, since the abuser meets his or her own needs at the expense of the needs of the victim. The actions of the abuser in effect say to the victim, 'You deserve to be treated like something less than human.' It is poignantly easy for a victim to accept and internalize this terrible message." (p. 22)

"It is hard to believe anyone can survive such intense pain as shame, met undefended, can produce." (p. 45)

"Sometimes strategies that produce more shame in the moment lead to gradual healing over time. This is often true of telling one's story to a sympathetic listener. Sometimes activities that temporarily soothe shame will actually increase it over time." (p. 31)

"Any time a victim takes action on her own behalf, she is healing a bit of her shame." pg 36

"For most of us, the experience of healing comes not in one dramatic incident but in many small experiences." (p. 37)

"In order to heal shame, a victim must take the unfamiliar, even revolutionary, step of choosing to act solely out of her own interest." (p. 38)

"Shame is an internal experience and trasforming it requires a healthy focus on oneself and one's own needs." (p. 39)

"If shame is about not being worthy, not being smart, not being pretty, not being good, not being sane, or simply not deserving to be at all, then its greatest antidote is simply to be oneself." (p. 39)

"The single most effective cure for shame is the experience of being seen and understood exactly as you are by someone who has no need or wish for you to be anything different. This means that the most basic form of healing 'touch' for shame is compasssionate talk." (p. 40)

The Teacher Returns

2007-08-02T20:41:00.000-04:00

Today was actually sort of refreshing as I returned to school to prepare for the coming year. At the end of the long day (8:00 - 6:30) some of my former students came rushing in for hugs and hello's. They were there for the 8th grade orientation and greeting their new teachers. It was so good to see them come running with arms wide.

As I gave big smiles and hugs to them, I wondered at the power of my own position. I wondered how someone could even consider hurting one of them. Why would someone want control and power so much that they would destroy those smiles and joy at seeing you? I cannot comprehend it.

However I can comprehend crossing boundaries with a pastor. How scary it is at times when I see my own heart open to Tom. I thank God for my own healthy boundaries. It took many years to find the pieces and build them. I thank God for his boundaries. Yet, at the same time, I feel all the human emotions when I experience the acceptance and gentle care in his eyes, or we clasp hands in prayer, or I get a hug on the way out the door. Those are very intimate expressions and God's love is intimate.

I hope you don't judge me for admitting what I imagine most of us feel at times in similar situations. That is why it is abuse, because we do feel it. Pastors carry the power to give us hope, the power to manifest the love of God, the power to offer forgiveness and encouragement, the power of counsel, the power in a hand held and are around the shoulder, the power to call us to repentance, the power to pray for our healing, the power to bestow God's blessing.

I praise God for healthy boundaries. I pray for Tom's protection and I think I am going to add a new prayer. I think all pastors need this. I am going to pray special blessings on his relationship with his wife. The scripture says that a cord of three strands is not easily broken. That scripture was used in our wedding ceremony 27 years ago. May that third cord, God's Spirit, hold tight my pastor and his wife.

Pastors with integrity - God bless them.

Di

Monitoring the Perpetrator

2007-08-01T20:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I learned that Bob had been monitored by a congregant after my report of his abuse. What Reg could not tell me was why Bob was unaware there had been any monitoring. My questions to Reg seemed to cause a lot of squirming on his part. Had this person reported back to the state board of ministers? Had anyone followed up as the years passed? Did this person stay a member of the church? Did they have any training to know what to look for? Are they still alive?

Reg, knew his answers were not satisfactory.

Today I talked with my pastor, Tom who is convinced Reg will follow up. Tom says Reg will do his best to meet my needs and to give him time to deal with the emotional bomb that has gone off in his lap. Not that I am a bomb but what happened to me is. Tom described how the shock of it affected him, how wrapping one's mind around the reality of what all I told him was difficult.

When Tom said that if nothing happened over a few months time to cause changes to be made to the policy, he would make sure something happened, I cried. I believe him. I trust him. When I shared my concern that Reg did not believe my evaluation of the three conversations with Bob, Tom agreed to call him and tell him his rendition as a support of mine.

I trust a pastor. Radical.

I miss my brother who was a pastor in the state, in this denomination and once the head of the state ministerial committee. Why didn't tell him? Oh how I wished I had. Yesterday my sister-in -law assured me that he would have supported me and helped me find resolution. Oh how good it was to hear that. And today I told Tom that though I had lost my brother as an advocate, I had gained his support - and it means a lot.

I wrote an email to Reg. I reminded him of the scripture of the 99 sheep that were left to seek out the one lost. Will this church choose to seek victims out when it is known they probably exist? I do not think I will be able to quit until I see that in writing.

Di

An Advocate for Tougher Policies

2007-07-31T21:35:00.000-04:00

The advocate today was me. For the first time I filled the dual role of advocate and victim. Though I would be more politically correct to call myself a survivor, there are times like today that the victim status gets in my face and seems appropriate. At two points in the meeting, Reg, apologized and talked of my pain and during those two periods tears filled my eyes and pain clinched my throat. I felt the victim. I felt vulnerable.

Sandwiched in the middle of those times, I stood my ground and argued my case and there were periods during which I was very determined in my argument. I was glad to see I had the ability to stand firmly for my beliefs. The advocate came out loud and clear.

One of those arguments (as in a lawyer arguing her case) is my belief that mandatory psychological testing should be required of any pastor accused of misconduct. Reg, wondered aloud if the testing should be a part of the investigation process or if it would be better to reserve it for a later period. The concept of mandatory testing seemed to make him uncomfortable. I insisted it was necessary as part of the investigation. Frequently, during the hour and a half, I had an opportunity to point out this fact. I argued my case well.

Reg seemed willing to agree with me that there seemed little to be accomplished by keeping findings, discipline, or future monitoring methods from the victim. They were kept from me and resulted in a lack of closure. I read this paragraph to Reg:

"It is recognized that justice, as referred to on pg. 3, as a desired goal of implementation of the policy, can only be served to the victim(s) as they are allowed open access to the results of their report. In reporting abuse, a victim seeks to achieve justice, regain power and control, and to prevent further abuse. Control has been taken from the victim in the form of the sexual exploitation or abuse. The (leadership of the) Church should take all steps possible to return control to the victim and honor their purposes in coming forward. This includes open disclosure of the investigation’s findings, disciplinary measures enacted, and any future monitoring of the accused. Without open disclosure the victim cannot be assured that the accused will not abuse
again and a sense of closure cannot be obtained."

I like that paragraph. It sounds strong and powerful.

The third primary issue is my desire to always allow the victim the opportunity to plead his/her case at the Disciplinary Hearing. Ray admits the policy describing a disciplinary hearing is lacking - it does not exist, so one could not have occured in my case.

The positives of the meeting are:

I was heard.

Reg agreed to review all I had written.

Reg will get back with me as to what he agrees with or disagrees with.

Reg agreed to consider my requests.

Reg will look into my folder and tell me the answers he feels he can offer me. If he cannot give me an answer for a reason he is unaware of in the present, he will tell me why he cannot give me the answer.

Reg promised that the region would address some changes to the policy.

Reg seemed disturbed that I never obtained a sense of closure due to the way the original report was handled.

Reg winced noticeably at my statement that Bob was read my full statement but I was not allowed to know his statement, and this led me to a further sense of victimization.

Reg apologized and tears filled his eyes over my pain on two occasions. In this he showed far more remorse than Bob.

The negatives of the meeting are:

Reg seemed to have a hard time embracing the thought of mandatory psychological testing of all misconduct perpetrators.

Reg seemed to have a difficult time believing my assessment of Bob and on several occasions verbalized his attempts to mentally come to grips with the concept of Bob being a true sociopath.

Tomorrow and the following days, I will try to give some further details of my own thoughts and feelings as well as details of the meeting. Overall, I would rate it a 7 on a scale of 10. My hope is that my rating will fall low in reality of what comes from the meeting.

I feel a hodge-podge of emotion. Relief. Gratitude. Anger. Frustration. Pain. Sadness. Hope.

Hope is the scariest of all because "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." That is somewhere in Proverbs and I am too tired to look it up.

Thanks for your prayers.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall Who is the Best Pastor of them All

2007-07-19T14:46:00.000-04:00

Well, a few of you pastors out there that read my posts may disagree, but today Tom gets my vote.

I must be the most insecure parishoner that exists. I always expect the worst.

I called yesterday just to touch base before he went out of town again and he offered to meet with me today even when I didn't ask. He just came back from out of town and is leaving again and he made time to spend with me - gave me an hour of his time. And then he offered to make a spot for me to come by on the 1st. Seems he wants to hear all about my time with Reg. I'm not just a number, he cares.

Without my asking Tom immediately voiced his support of my endeavor with Reg and helped me organize my agenda into 4 or 5 points to discuss with him on the 31st. He gave me a good idea of what Reg is like and what to expect. I could go ahead with my meeting without it but I wanted Tom's support and I have it 100%, as well as his opinions, thoughts, words, and smile.

So what is the point of this rambling about what a great guy Tom is? Power. Power is the point. Tom has a role in life as my pastor. With that role comes power he does not ask for, and I, honestly, would rather not give away. Yet, the power differential exists simply because the relationship exists, and as long as the relationship remains, so will the power differential.

Power.

Power to heal. Power to build up. Power to encourage.

Power, neither good nor bad, is what we choose to make it.

The Sexual Misconduct Policy

2007-07-17T20:14:00.000-04:00

Well, I stopped crying by bedtime and have been fine since. I have been doing well and preparing for my time with Reg. My pastor, Tom, has returned from the realm of the yearly youth mission trip - God bless his soul. His response to an email caused me to pull out the Clergy Sexual Misconduct Policy I had received at the time I reported Bob. As I reread it, some red flags went up.

The regional minister is supposed to fill the role of Misconduct Policy Coordinator. A response team is supposed to already exist and be divided into two further teams: an investigation team and an intervention team. At the time of my reporting Bob, I agreed to allow the regional minister and his wife to fill all the roles. Egads! Red flags are soaring! I think I made a mistake but I think the regional minister made a bigger one. Someone under the duress I was experiencing should have never been asked something like that on the spot.

With this problem comes another. The intervention team is supposed to meet separately with the victim in order to offer guidance and to direct them to sources of support and assistance. The most I received was a question as to my getting counseling which I was at the time. The investigation team's job was to help minimize suffering, bring the truth to light all in order for healing, justice, and reconciliation (I don't think so.). I think I was gipped.

Once the state ministerial board meets they are to convene a disciplinary hearing according to the policy and procedures followed by the regional denomination. I emailed Reg today and asked for the disciplinary policy and procedures. He was honest and earned my respect when he told me it doesn't exist. So there wasn't one. And thus I was not asked to "testify", something I wanted to do.

If there is insufficient evidence to bring about disciplinary action, which I assume was the decision on my case, the Intervention team is to meet individually with all parties and "develop a mutually acceptable plan for monitoring the situation." Instead, I was told that they could not tell me the specifics of any monitoring that would occur.

Because the policy was not followed as written, I spent 6 years without closure and missed the opportunity to "testify". I chose to confront Bob to discover some of the answers. Some I still do not know.

I wrote Reg another email this afternoon, pointing out the holes in how I was handled. I feel a great deal of determination to see some changes made. I also feel angry that I did not experience the full extent of the policy.

I am hopeful that Reg will hear me and work with me to make sure this never happens again. For me that could be a very fruitful closure.

Contacting the Regional Minister about Clergy Sexual Misconduct Procedures

2007-07-13T20:49:00.000-04:00

The ball is rolling and so are my tears.

In this denomination, of which I linger on the edge, there is no Bishop but a body of ministers from within the region who hire a minister to oversee the region's activities and procedures. The body of ministers is elected each year at the regional assembly and they in turn hire the regional minister and associate regional ministers. Together they all form what is known as the Comminssion on Ministry.

Last week I emailed this region's Regional Minister. He received my email on Monday and took a few days to reply. I am meeting with him on July 31st to share about my meeting with Bob and the ideas about sexual misconduct procedures that have come from the meetings.

So why the tears? I am not sure. It feels very tender inside doing this. I feel more vulnerable now than I did facing Bob. The same way Tom has more power in my life, I guess. I had pretty much stripped Bob of all power prior to meeting with him.

I wonder why I do this to myself. John wanted me to wait and take some time off but I had already emailed AND my days of vacation are numbered. Once work starts back, I can't hop in the car and drive 100 miles to meet with someone. It would have been easier to just quit where I am but I can't. Is it that I am not yet finished? Or is it that this is the beginning of a new chapter that lies ahead of me.

In the same way I felt that talking with Bob was a prerequisite to my sharing with other ministers and professionals, I feel that talking with those in this denomination, that I almost call my own, must happen before I can turn and look across the fields at other lands. If I can't face those I have a connection with then it somehow seems irresponsible to head off to other lands. These people have a reason to listen to me. It was their minister who abused me. It is their ordained minister who has walked beside me for 9 months now supporting my healing.

However, in the same way that family has access to deep places in our hearts and power that we sometimes are reticent to give them, so does this regional minister seem to have power of position in my life.

I shared briefly what I wanted to talk with Reg about. I also shared that this is not easy for me but I feel I must do it. I am encouraged by his reply to me.

Di, Be calm and know that I am sympathetic to you and to what you have
been through. I’d like to talk with you and hear what you have to
say.
I’ve got time set aside on the 31st at 1:30 in the afternoon.
I’ll look
forward to meeting with you then. Blessings.

I keep reading the "be calm" part! I am convinced this step is necessary and part of God's hand on my life. As usual I expect God to accomplish many things in this meeting. One of them will hopefully be more of my own healing. Far more important though, is the need to protect further victims from falling prey to pastoral predators. Now that is an oxymoron - pastoral predators!

The Church's Responsibility in Sexual Misconduct Issues

2007-07-11T19:21:00.000-04:00

Is this pitcher plant to the left being greedy, gobbling up insects when it can make its own food through photosynthesis?

I am almost out of insurance paid therapy visits to my individual counselor for 2007. I get 25 a year and normally go in every two weeks. With contacting my perpetrator, I increased this number and used up about 5 extra visits. This puts me almost out.

I have a decision to make. Do I ask the church (state level) to pick up my bill for the next 4 months? There are several paragraphs in their procdure manual for sexual misconduct that talks of taking care of the emotional needs of the victim without specifically stating the option of counseling. The minister I reported Bob to asked me several times about counseling. I felt like the state church might have paid for it if I had needed it. However I was deeply involved in therapy at the university I was attending and it was free.

I have mixed feelings about asking.

I feel like I need to ask in order to stand up for the child within me that still needs the therapy.

I feel it is fair and a reasonable request. I am talking about $1200. That is a lot less than a law suit would cost them. Of course the statute of limitations is over.

I feel afraid of hearing their "no." If they say "no" then can I still consider joining the church I am attending?

I hesitate to ask, because I worry that my request will color their ability to hear my other requests about policy changes.

I am not sure what to do.

Two Faces of a Predator

2007-07-08T12:47:00.001-04:00

I continue to process the meaning of my meeting with the perpetrator of my abuse. Today I am thinking of the two faces I have seen.

In the early 1970's Bob was a cocky sort of guy, in more than one way, now that I think about it. Sorry for the pun. It just hit me the two meanings of that word. Like the rooster he strutted about the world in his cowboy boots and jeans with a jaunty bounce in his step. His speech was flavored with what I term psycho-ease. You know, the way shrinks talk, reflecting your words back to you and baiting you into revealing more about yourself than you have previously. I clearly remember his, "You seem uneasy and embarrassed about that," comment that first opened my hidden places to his slick handling. And he talked easily of forbidden subjects never hesitating or acting ill at ease. It was as easy for him to talk about a man's penis and acts of sex as it was to talk about fishing or hunting.

He was also quite cruel and manipulative. "Once you have crossed that line, you can't go back. You can't have one without the other" he stated in response to my complaining about his distance after I asked out of the sexual part of our relationship. I recall his "say uncle" or "Say you'll quit" when he repeatedly pushed my face into the dirt every time I angrily charged at him, while camping, after he verbally humiliated me. And there was his talk of tying me to the bed and almost bringing me to an orgasm but never quite letting me get there - I never went for that. His loading the shot gun with buck shot while we shot skeet and laughing when it kicked and left me bruised is just one more of what I can specifically remember.

All of this, sharply contrasts with the Bob of last Tuesday. His once moustached face, that led to my awe at that first kiss, is now more fully hidden by a beard. It is as if he was hiding from the truth that reverberated within the room . The Bob of 2007 was stilted and silent for much of our time. His face was blank and his look dead pan. He sat rigidly and admitted the knot in his stomach. He smiled briefly at my forgiveness, but sat glaring at my offer to come clean with the truth.

None of the verbal acuity remained, not in that setting at least. He was the one that appeared tied down, afraid to move, waiting for the kick of the gun that he must have known at some level was bound to bruise him. On Tuesday it was no longer Bob who had the strength to hold me down, but me who spiritually wielded the power of truth to hold him stiff in that chair.

The tables had turned.

The power was mine.

The power is mine. Only the power I carried on Tuesday is a power not to destroy but to redeem, a power he rejected.

Remember when Jesus sent the 72 out to the cities and towns to prepare the way for Him. He told them that those that listened to them, heard Him, and those that refused the truth they brought, refused Him and He who sent Him.

On Tuesday, I refused to be the victim any longer. Bob refused God.

Driven to Talk

2007-07-07T10:12:00.000-04:00

The baby tern on the right in this picture would not shut up. If either parent moved a inch to the left, he moved and continued to squawk.

I thought I would be through talking after conversing with Bob but like the tern, matters press me on. I certainly enjoy talking and writing. Communication is my profession and now I wish to take my profession of teaching to a new audience. The best teaching often comes from raising questions and pointing out problems that need to be solved.

I have written an email to two of the church's regional ministers in my state. I have asked for an opportunity to sit and talk with them. One of those ministers is Michael, Bob's son-in-law, the other is Michael's boss. My agenda with Michael is more personal, as I want to continue our conversation without Bob's presence. I have a few more memories I think he should be aware of that seemed pointless to share with Bob when he was not going to acknowledge them. I would also like him to know about the conversation I first had with Bob. I think it might be hard but good for him to hear John's take on Bob's psychological condition, as well. And, because Michael was so caring, I want to let him know first of my plans and desire to share with the ministerial leadership committee in the state.

With both Michael and Ray, I hope to share multiple thoughts, questions and suggestions as to procedures the church follows when a report of pastoral sexual misconduct occurs. I will list my thoughts below:

Psychological evaluations are needed and should be required in all reported cases. A third party that is completely objective is needed.

An increase in the number of people with access to files that remain open - meaning the incident was not settled, there is disagreement or lack of enough evidence to defrock the minister but enough evidence to cause concern as to his past behavior and present condition. Presently only one person has access to the those files.

A different set of thoughts and procedures for predatory behavior or child molestation is needed. These procedures might include:

mandatory reporting of criminal activity that is in policy and well known by all ministers in the denominational region.

contact of whole congregations when a predator has pastored in that congregation regardless of the passage of time.

mandatory therapy for the length of ministry if a file is left open but the pastor remains in ministry.

an understanding that victims may take many many years to come forward and this should not decrease the validity of the report in the eyes of the ministerial committee reviewing the report or affect the outcome.

open disclosure to the victim of the perpetrators statement and of any consequences that the ministerial committee enacts.

contact of victim if and when the ministers relocates.

I am interested in some feedback, especially if you are a minister. I want to go into the meeting with an understanding of all parties and the needs of the church, victim, and perpetrator in consideration. What do you see that sounds important and what might seem impossible?

And friends, if you don't mind, could you leave your thoughts here on the blog instead of emailing.

The Eyes Have It! A Post in Honor of Integrity

2007-07-06T21:13:00.000-04:00

"The lamp of the body is the eye. If your eye is good your whole body
will be full of light. But if your eye is bad your whole body will be full
of darkness. If therefore the light that in you is darkness, how great is
that darkness!" Matthew 6:22-23.

I have two pictures in my head from my time with Bob and both are a set of eyes.

Bob's (my perpetrator) darkness that appeared to be stabbing out at me from his one seeing eye seemed confused and fearful and evil . And Tom's (my present pastor) eyes that met mine each time I hit a hard spot and had to look away from Bob's darkness and lies. Tom's eyes were gentle and caring and full of light and encouragement. The difference in these two men's eyes was phenomenal.

Bob's eyes were frightening, frightened, angry, deceptive, and evil looking. Tom's eyes said, "I believe you. I believe in you. I am walking with you."

Of everything in the meeting those two pictures stand out. Two pastor's eyes. One pastor, so full of evil, that it has devoured his life and who knows how many other's, and the other full of light - light that he gave to me - but light that did not originate with him.

Bob's darkness invaded my life in November of 1972, and on Tues. July 3, 2007 I shook off the remaining darkness and cast it aside and stepped into the complete light - in the presence of Bob but I stepped alone, without him. All was exposed and laid out in the light of truth.

Truth was declared to the one who has lived in the darkness of lies. The truth was offered to Bob, through me, but not only by me. I honestly believe God offered him the chance to walk into the light with me, but Bob chose not to take it.

I feel sad that Bob chose to keep the darkness in his soul. I feel gratitude that Tom shared the light of God with me that day, and to him I offer this public thank you.

Thank you my pastor and my friend. It is hard to believe I have only
known you for 9 months, the journey has been so intense. I could only do
this because you are part of it. Without you, I could have never found
this place of freedom. I would not have shaken off that darkness.

Tonight, I thank you, to remind myself and all those that come to this
blog, that even though one chose evil, you Tom, chose integrity and light!
Your integrity gave me hope, strength, and allowed me to find my God again.
You chose to take the power of your position and use it to heal. You chose
to give rather than take.
Your choice is one of true power, of agape love, and of our God. May your choice bring others the hope that men can be honorable. That Christ can express himself through the church. That some do choose what is right and good. And for that, I honor you.
As you have given to one of the least of these......may our God give back to you.
Diane

Feelings About Facing my Abuser

2007-07-04T18:34:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I faced him. Last night I dreamed about it and woke up tense. Today I thought about it.

During the night I woke and felt horror as I couldn't get that dark, dark angry eye out of my mind. The way he looked at me after I challenged him on the Barbara issue was quite threatening or was it pleading or perhaps both.

I feel sad that Bob could not come clean and be honest or even move one tiny step in that direction. I truly want nothing worse than repentance for him.

Relief and a smile floods over my face every now and then when I realize it is finished. "It is finished." The cycle is complete.

Tenderness floods my heart as I think of the support of my sweet husband.

As I remember the comfort and encouragement in his eyes yesterday, I am filled with gratitude for my present pastor and for his integrity.

I feel safe with Tom and part of that safety is in his solid relationship with his wife. I haven't mentioned her much but she is there strong and supportive of his ministry and she offered her prayers for us yesterday as we met.

I am thrilled that yesterday I spoke truth and did not let anyone's acceptance of me hinder what I needed to say.

I am awed by Michael's support of me and invitation to contact him. I am anxious to hear a reply to my email I sent him.

I am in wonder as I think of Bob's comment that he was glad Tom was the kind of pastor he was. It sounded as if he was suggesting that Tom was different than he had been and he was glad. That seemed sincere and gave me hope that inside perhaps he has changed but maybe the past is so full of crap that he just can't pull his thumb out of the dike lest it all wash him away.

I am curious as to what must have happened when Bob and Michael arrived home to their wives. I prayed for them yesterday evening and will keep them on my prayer list.

I am hopeful that maybe I can work through enough to actually join this church I have been attending.

I feel courageous and ready to take up my lance and charge the enemy - wherever they are.

I am very proud of myself and rather full of admiration for what I did.

I feel strong now that I have taken back my voice and sounded it to 3 ministers in the same room. I have faced the enemy and found 2 to be my friends.

I trust myself to know my needs and to seek the road that life has given me.

I am eager to have the opportunity to talk to Cheryl once she gets back in town. I believe a hug would feel real good next week if she can find time for one. And a high five. And a YES! And a big smile and maybe we should dance a while too.

I am grieved that the wives have to hurt through this. It seems the women are the ones that are hurting and I hate that. I want to tell them to hold their heads up high and trust God enough to face the truth and love him any way.

I feel tired of all the intensity of feelings! So much to process emotionally.

Facing My Abuser

2007-07-03T18:24:00.000-04:00

Today began with a cool morning and an attempt to keep my mind off the afternoon. I tried to work on the house some but found I did not have much of a heart to do so. I piddled around with sanding and priming but finally gave up and showered and dressed. Hubby and I had talked last night about what I was going to wear and while he wanted me to dress professionally in order to express more power, I chose something nice but more casual. Nice capri pants, blue short sleeve sweater, and a nice shirt over it. I dressed to represent who I am.

Once I was dressed and had my make-up on, I told mom I was off to meet some teachers for lunch and stuff. As ministers they all three have taught. I left and got a hamburger which I surprised myself with being able to eat. Then I headed over to the church 45 minutes early. I couldn't do anything else so I decided I would occupy myself in the sanctuary for a while.

Father God and I had a good talk. I kneeled at the front and acknowledged His work in my life, committed the afternoon to his hand, and turned Bob over to Him. Then I took a song book out and flipped through it singing as I went. I must have sung about 20 songs by the time I heard Tom looking for me and calling me from the hallway. In that time, I had connected with the Holy Spirit in a wonderfully peaceful way. I was ready.

Tom and I sat in the front secretary's office and talked for a couple of minutes when we were joined by my husband who gave me a big kiss and plopped down beside me. I left briefly to take a trip to the restroom and detoured by the room we were going to meet in and arranged the chairs just like I wanted them. Tom teased me about having them just right. Interestingly when we went in later, everyone ended up right where I needed everyone to sit.

Before they arrived, Tom, Robin and I prayed together with me teasing Tom that pastors always ask, "Should WE pray," but then do all the praying themselves. So he let us go first and when he finished I told him next time I wanted to go last for the same reason. Pastors always have to say the "Amen". We all laughed. It was a good tension breaker.

Bob and Michael arrived right at two o'clock and excused themselves to the men's room. We then guided them to the parlor and sat down. Bob had aged since I saw him 9 years ago. He had gained about 50 pounds and turned gray. I felt less intimidated seeing him look his age of 67. He was obviously nervous. His face was blank and gray and later Tom described his affect as flat.

We sat and Tom suggested we open with prayer. I opened my eyes to all the men all looking at me and laughingly said, "You are all looking at me." Bob replied and smiled, "You asked for the meeting." I smiled and began by telling them why I wanted this meeting. I told them that at first I could not put the reason into words but I knew it was God. Gradually I came to realize that I needed two things. One, to sit in the same room with Bob, who had abused me, and to have my safe boundaries, and care for myself, be the adult and to care for the child inside, not looking for Bob's approval or attention. Second, I needed to share my voice, that I could not or did not have as a 17 year old.

I continued on by saying I wanted to first share the effects that the abuse had on my life. Rather than going into all I said, I suggest you read my post on The Legacy of Pastoral Sexual Abuse. Though I did not use all the same words, the message was the same. As Tom later stated, I was direct but kind. Throughout the time, my emotions were there but they seemed legitimate and appropriate for the setting and could not have been viewed as manipulative. I teared up a couple of times, stopped to get some eye contact from Tom on three occasions, which he did a great job of giving, and moved on. Twice I teared up with comments Michael made and my lip and chin trembled until I bit it. It was important to me to be honest with my feelings and not stifled, but neither did I want to give Bob the power that would come from me regressing into the child. I think I managed an almost perfect balance.

As I shared the effects of the abuse, I told of my beginning to attend the church. I shared how all the crap came flying out of me and I had to decide if I wanted to stop coming or face it squarely with Tom. I chose the latter. I talked about the greatest anger I had felt through the years being during that time of emotional turmoil as I realized the abuse was still eating my cake 34 years later. As I worked through it, I shared, I came to the day when I knew I had forgiven Bob. Up on the trail behind the church I marked that milestone with stones I have piled up. I went on to explain that forgiveness is not just something we give others but something we have become. It was a miraculous step for me to reach a place of forgiveness.

At this point I told Bob that I could continue on or I could give him a chance to respond to what I had said. He chose to respond. He began with saying he had really been on edge over this happening and that he felt as if he had a basketball down in his gut as they left this morning to drive over. (I wanted to yell, YES!!! Finally, I have the power. But, I didn't even let on that it felt so good to know this.) Bob told me that he was there because he wanted to help me finish my healing and that he cared about me. His voice was level but lighter as he expressed his gratitude for the forgiveness. He went on to explain himself by saying that during the time of our relationship, he did not see himself as my pastor. At this point, I looked at Michael out the corner of my eye, he hung his head and shook it as if he could not believe Bob was saying this. I began to expect that Michael was going to be a major asset in the meeting and that is what he proved to be.

As Bob continued to talk about all the things we did together he shared that his memory was of the sex growing out of the tremendous friendship we shared. This was a perfect jumping off place for me to share my version of the start of the abuse. I knew Bob had heard it. Tom had heard it. I knew it, but Michael was not privy to the information before today. I wanted Michael to hear the degree of predation his father-in-law had functioned in.

I told of the kiss on the second day, of oral sex on the 4th day, and of intercourse by week 3. Bob held on to his views and denied the truth of mine throughout the meeting. I encouraged him to hold this out before God, because I truly believed that truth could bring only healing and wholeness to his life. While he denied that there was any reason to believe one versus the other version, I pointed out that my version was much more predatory than his. I questioned his level of denial and he seemed shocked that I would use his name and the word denial in the same sentence.

I pointed out to Bob that his appearing at my brother's funeral and inviting me to visit him spoke of a rather large amount of denial. Bob explained that there were so many other things we shared and that I was essentially a part of his family during that year's time (that kind of makes me sick feeling) and that was what he was focussing on when he invited me to his home. He stated that at the time, he did not realize the impact this had on my life.

However, I went on to challenge him with the fact that as a pastor, he had to have attended those seminars where they talk about the damage done by this type of relationship. It seemed to me that it was only through denial that he could not have connected the two.

Whenever I challenged him this way, he just looked at me and did not answer. I had forgotten that Bob only had sight in one eye and the other looks slightly to the right so I looked back into his good eye with what I hoped was truth but peace from my heart.

I asked Bob what he remembered about the sex and he replied that it began after a youth lock-in we had at the church. We had all danced that night and I had danced extra close to him during one dance. (Duh! I had been sleeping with him for 4 or 5 months by then.) He took me home the next morning but had to return to his office to get something and it was then that he kissed me. He remembered the oral sex and that it occured in the living room, as many did but the first time was actually in the den on their sofa. He also remembered the intercourse but the time I lowered myself onto him, in his memory was the time he ejaculated in me.

I had asked him earlier if he remembered one time when I thought I might be pregnant. His answer was no. I asked him if he remembered how we avoided the issue of my becoming pregnant and he replied that he only ejaculated in me one time and that was 3 days after my period. Wow, now that is specific. I had to wonder how he remembered that detail while having forgotten all the other.

I shared my memory of his setting me up with Charlie and that was the one time he became defensive. He recognized what that would be saying about himself and he denied it fully. However, Charlie seemed to think it was arranged for sex and I left it there. It is odd that he recognizes and defends himself on that issue while not on the others.

I talked of sex in the woods on the way to some friends house, of sex in his tent with another man in the tent (I used my hand to bring him to an orgasm), of sex in the state office. None of those sparked a response. He acted surprised but did not verbally deny them.

I asked Bob what the commision on ministry had done in response to my report. Bob said that he had met 2 or 3 times with the regional minister at the time and his wife but that he was not aware of any follow up. He said that he finished out his ministry and retired as soon as he reached retirement age but denied that he had been pressured to do so. Bob told me that every region he had ministered in was contacted but no one else came forward with a negative report.

Twice during the conversation, Michael, who besides being Bob's son-in-law is also works on the state level, spoke his own input. His voice was clear and kind and gentle and his acknowledgement of my pain seemed very real. His apology and concern for me were far more legitimate sounding than Bob's. Tom had spoken highly of Michael and I found my heart opening to him. Michael acknowledged that God was obviously with me and he was grateful to have been invited to participate in this part of my healing. He explained to me what it meant for a pastor's file to be left open. It is forever and always in the regional ministers personal file cabinet and will be passed on and reviewed by each subsequent minister.

Then, Michael went on to say that he was sorry that there truly was no justice in this situation. That was when I cried. Can you believe that. I believe he really meant it. He aknowledged to me that there was no justice and then he said he was sorry. I just realized how powerful that was for me to hear. Michael continued to offer to be of any assistance that he could be to me and for me to call him if he could help me further. That is an option I may very well explore.

I asked Bob and Michael how their wives were handling this. Bob replied first that his was anxious and wanted closure so she could quit dreaming about it. That is evidently why the time table was moved up. Michael said that his was angry, not at me but at the situation, that she is 7 months pregnant and very emotional. She won't talk with Michael about this in the same way they talk about everything else. That has concerned Michael. As I listened to that, I had a thought. It might not be true at all but I gave my input anyway. I asked him to tell her, for me, that it isn't something we do logically, but sometimes we pick up the shame from something like this and for her to please not do that. The lightbulb seemed to come on for Michael. Maybe it will help.

Bob, in response to my question as to what his wife might need from me to relieve the anxiety, replied "an assurance that the phone wouldn't ring again and they wouldn't have to deal with this one more time." In his statement I once again heard him blaming me for his wife and daughter's discomfort. I did not hear, "I am sorry I caused them this pain." I replied to Bob that as far as I knew, I didn't think there was anything else he could offer me. That I could not imagine any purpose in another phone call, but I had to take care of myself first and I couldn't promise that and put a stamp and seal on it.

By this point, I had eliminated everything on my note cards but one item. One bomb. I told them I hate to go here but I needed to. I looked at Bob and asked him if he had ever told his wife that he had slept with anyone else besides me. He replied firmly, "No." I looked him in the eye and asked what about Barbara? Very animatedly he replied to the negative again. I continued to look him in the eye and I said, "Bob, I think you and I know that is not true." He said nothing else but continued to look at me with the dark, dark eye. Then he asked, what makes you so sure of that statement. I offered, "You told me you slept with her." "I said to you that I slept with her?" he asked with disbelief. "Yes, and you spent every afternoon at her house and a man at the church caught the two of you embracing intimately and he told Tom Neal about it." Quiet and an intense stare met me. I continued, "Bob, it really doesn't matter as far as I am concerned, your wife certainly does not need to know or be hurt by this, but I wanted to give you a chance to come clean".

Quietness filled the room as neither one of us replied. I simply looked to Tom for a little comfort and eye contact. I told Tom, that was all I had, that I had emptied my heart. Michael looked at Bob and asked him if he was finished. Bob replied in the positive, he was obviously shaken however after my confrontation over Barbara. Michael then asked to talk with Bob for a moment before we finished.

We left briefly and I talked with my husband and told him what he could see, I was doing well inside. His support of me through this has been awesome. I told Tom that I thought Michael was believing me and seeing some things he had not before. Tom agreed. We were quickly invited back. I was pretty sure that Michael had nudged Bob to say he was sorry, as he had not done so, and that is what occured.

Bob told me he was sorry, sorry it had happened, sorry I had spent my life dealing with it. Then he almost said what I really wanted to hear. He said "It was wrong." One step further would have been, "I was wrong," but the other 3 words were probably the biggest step he was capable of taking. Bob went on to say that he was glad I had a husband who supported me and a pastor who cared and was the type of pastor he was. He seemed to be saying that he was glad Tom had the integrity that he, Bob, had lacked.

We ended in prayer, all of us holding hands. I have no idea what Tom prayed but when he finished, I reached across the circle and offered my hand to Bob. He took it and shook it and looked me in the eye. That may seem an odd ending for me, but I needed to touch the hands that had abused me. I needed to touch them and still maintain my boundaries and stand for truth. My prayer is that hand shake will shake his heart until truth reigns there as well.

My Agenda with My Perpetrator

2007-07-01T16:22:00.001-04:00

I have 4 basic items on my agenda to work through with Bob.

1. Internal Work:

To give myself a few moments to think and recognize that he is sitting across from me and HE is the perpetrator and not everyone else I transfer onto. Then, I intend to recognize my own ability to keep myself safe and healthy. I can focus on the fact that I now have boundaries. My sitting with him in this meeting is saying "NO! No, you will not hurt me again. No, I do not need your approval. No, I do not need your acceptance. No, I do not want to sleep with you. No, I do not love you. No, I do not want your attention."

2. External Work:

To say some of the above, especially the "No!" part. I can frame it with the fact that I could not say no to him when I was 17. I can say "No!" now and I am going to take the opportunity to do so.

To tell him how his abuse affected my life. I want to include the shame, self-hatred that especially focussed on the part of myself that was needy, loss of esteem, anxiety disorder, life course change, perfectionism, emotional turmoil, issues with authority, etc.

To tell him some of the memories that hurt me the most.

This external work is my way of finding my voice, the voice I did not have at 17 - the voice that was silenced by Bob's power and cunning.

I am nervous as I wait the remaining hours. I will see him tomorrow. I feel such ambivalence. The child is evident as I work to stay the adult. I can feel some of the old attention and approval issues inside of me. Part of me wants to sweep it all under the carpet and just talk and catch up. Such odd things to be feeling the night before I confront my abuser. I will be sitting in the room with the man who lifted my chin and kissed me, the man who used his own penis to teach me what felt good, the man who said, "It is sterile and people just swallow it.", the man who tried to get me to sleep with his best friend, the man who rubbed my face in the dirt over and over, the man who used his hands to bring me to an orgasm, the man who took my virginity, the man who told me I could not have his affection without the sex since we had already crossed that line, the man who accused me of being in love with a penis because I tried to entice a friend of his into bed with me, the man whose arms I flew into and thought I was becoming a woman, the man who as my youth pastor, who at the age of 32 had sex with me as a 17 year old.

I will see him tomorrow and I hope the adult shows up.

An Appointment with The Perpetrator of My Abuse

2007-06-30T12:12:00.000-04:00

The image at the right is an odd "crack" in a piece of limestone. The crack is called a stylolite. It occurs as pressure from opposite directions press the two rock layers together. The pressure actually causes the rocks to dissolve at the contact point and the stylolite forms and a new boundary is formed. I think you will see how the picture fits my last few days as you read on.

Bob's son-in-law, Michael, contacted my pastor, Tom, on Wednesday of this week and asked if we could sit down and talk this coming Tuesday, July 3rd. Tom emailed me and we talked and it is a go for Tuesday.

I emailed many who support me and asked for their input and prayers and I scheduled an appointment with my therapist for Monday. I talked briefly to both Cheryl and Dan (old shrink and marriage counselor) who were very supportive.

David Clohessy called me yesterday morning and woke me up after a night of staying up with Bonnie, but it was time to get up. His view is always in stopping further abuse. He encouraged me to ask questions as to what Bob is now doing in his spare time. Is he continuing to play tennis with women other than his wife? Is he doing anything to work with teenagers?

I thought his idea a good one and will try to incorporate it into the agenda. I would like to talk to Michael about him monitoring his father-in-law as well. Bob remains a predator at heart if not in action. From my phone conversations with him, little has changed.

When I asked my hubby for input he was all about explaining to Bob what a snake he was...... which has its place.

My point is that everyone thinks their input is the way to go and I have to sift through it to take the pieces I need and leave the others. It is good emotional exercise to shuffle through others feelings to prepare for this but that always hits my "acceptance issues" thus it has been a hard 3 days.

Di

The Legacy of Pastoral Sexual Abuse

2007-06-22T17:28:00.000-04:00

How does one quantify or qualify the damage done by clergy sexual misconduct? When I search online for answers to this question, I find little talk of actual cost. So, I began to ask myself this question - what did Bob's and Minton's abuse cost me?

I was privy, as a returning non-traditional college student, to free therapy for 5 1/2 years. I once tallied up what the therapy would have cost me had I been required to pay for it and the tab came to $120,000; a fee I could have never afforded. I currently pay a minimum of $150 a month. That $150 includes therapy and medication of which insurance covers the majority.

As large as that figure is to my budget, the greater cost is in my time, energy, and emotional health. Here is a cost list I created a few weeks ago:

shame, shame and more shame

lack of trust of myself

What is wrong with me?

self doubt

self flagellation - Do you understand the seriousness of what you have done?

fear of myself

By far the most important and most damaging effect was the loss of self respect. Once Minton made moves toward me as a result of my sharing Bob's abuse with he and his wife, I adopted the belief and question, "What is wrong with me?" Any tatters of belief in myself was totally destroyed. I truly believed the abuse was a result of something decidedly misconstructed in me. A later pastor asked me if I understood the seriousness of what I had done? Being the fantastic overachiever my son accuses me of being - I determined to understand this fact with all my being.

I daily flagellated myself with the seriousness of what I had done in hopes of preventing such misbehavior in the future. I lost any trust of my own personhood and saw myself as something to fear - and fear myself, I did. Who else would I contaminate?

Shame became the primary definer of my soul. I lived in shame. I believed in my shame. I was shame. Therapists will tell you that shame is at the base of most psychological issues. It WAS my psychological issue.

identification of attention and approval with sex

increase in need for approval

loss of healthy boundaries

During my relationship with Bob, my boundaries were destroyed. I equated sexual desire with acceptance. I was eaten alive inside by a hunger for approval and attention that was promised by the sex but I never seemed to attain. Have you ever been so thirsty that you would have drunk anything? I have - once. Since then I always make sure water travels with me. I have carried inside of me a similar thirst for approval and attention and acceptance. The hole inside my soul was unquenchable and constantly drove me to have it filled. It tormented every waking moment of my life. Tell me I am OK. Tell me you like me. Tell me I did a good job. Tell me you care about me. Tell me I am special. Tell me....... Only no matter how much love was shown, it never filled the hole. I became frantic to make the pain and emptiness stop.

involvement in a controlling church that was full of misogyny

anger toward authority which led to frequent conflict

transference onto relationships in the present

I sought approval in a very controlling and misogynous church. Misogyny means hatred of women, and women were treated like dirt. We had picnics at which the men played and the women took care of the kids and believed that was their place. The men went to meetings that the women were too fragile to understand or learn about. Women were not allowed to pray for anyone if their husband was not present. Whatever issues a husband might have was immediately deflected back onto the wife for if she was a proverb's women her husband would be an elder and "sit in the gates". If he wasn't - then there was something wrong with his wife. It took years for me to see the error of the church and then I couldn't leave it out of some warped sense of duty.

Anger toward authority leaked out of me like steam out of a pressure cooker. I was unaware of it, but those in authority felt it. It was my goal to emasculate them and expose their weaknesses. I transferred my anger at Bob and Minton onto others. Some deserved it but others did not. Relationships were affected and I was seen as someone to be avoided.

general anxiety disorder

need to be perfect, fear of failure increased

emotional turmoil

church avoidance

While prior to the abuse I had been an A/B student, after the abuse I had to be the top of the class. Being the top made me special and gave me attention and approval. It also drove me and haunted me and made me rather obnoxious at times. As I entered my late 40's an underlying anxiety built inside of me. It still remains and medication keeps me even keel most of the time. Panic attacks and a racing heart keep me taking that medication.

I left church and could not go back until 9 months ago. If I went for a wedding or once for the baptism of my son, a Xanex got me through the ceremony. Being in church was too frightening. I don't know whether I was more afraid of what someone there might do or of what I might do if let loose.

life focus stolen

identity changed and centered on abuse

dropped out of college

time

loss of friends

I dropped out of college early on because of the emotional turmoil over the abuse from Bob and Minton. I spent the the next 25 years pursuing the direction that brought the least anxiety. Even my eventual return to college at the age of 43 was in part out of fear of failing if I returned to the work force.

Much of the time in my 30's and 40's was spent wrestling with the after affects of the abuse. I did not always connect the two but without the abuse, much that brought turmoil into my life, would not have had its hook in me.

I lost dear friends when the relationship with Minton was aired by a pastor that promised to protect my identity. I had already been thrown out of the church group years before due to discomfort between me and Minton's wife. Then, post abuse, I was once again blamed for the action of my pastor and deemed too dangerous for some to allow their children to be around me. Their children were allowed, however, to hang out with Minton - at least until the truth came out.

I sometimes wonder who I would be if Bob had never happened - in one sense, a pointless question. Nevertheless, my life was changed. Oddly if you look at it one way, what I did to myself because of the abuse, was the deepest damage. It was not the physical happenings that hurt me, but the self hatred and despite that ate me alive.

Shame is a devourer of souls.

Statute of Limitations on Sexual Abuse

2007-06-21T10:45:00.000-04:00

In my state, the statute of limitations for sexual abuse falls under the same category as any other personal harm. To file a civil suit you have 2 years after the abuse. For minors the two years do not begin until they turn 18 and there are some clauses that allow later filings if one can prove that the damage done was not realized until a much later date. Perhaps that is not a difficult thing to show if one is referring to physical damage but emotional damage is so much more difficult to measure. You can't x-ray it or scan it or weigh it.

As I was scraping, sanding, and priming the exterior walls of my house this morning my mind revisited yesterday's conversation in the lawyer's office. My mind pondered the emotional toll of reporting abuse and the greater toll of reporting it publicly. Six years ago I did my reporting privately. It required everything I had inside to make it through that process.

Why did it take me over 25 years to report my perpetrator? I can't deny that I knew it needed to be done. I felt guilt for a number of years for not reporting him. The answer to my self directed question is this: I did not have the emotional strength or health needed to report Bob.

Deep inside of me were the lessons of my mom: don't rock the boat, don't draw attention to oneself, and surely it is better dealt with swept under the carpet. My brother was a pastor in the same denomination and I knew it would be a stink if the truth escaped. The shame I carried was massive, so massive in fact that I was convinced something was deeply wrong with me inside. For years after gaining an understanding of the dynamics of power/abuse relations, I still did not grasp the implications of that reality. In my heart I remained at fault for many, many years.

Could I go public now? Yes. Could I have gone public a year ago? Not without costing my soul more pain than I think I could have managed. Healing has been a long and arduous task. It has come in the end like a ball gaining momentum rolling down the hill. What was fought so hard for 5 years ago, suddenly appears in the most amazing ways now.

This then brings us back to the justice in a statute of limitations for sexual abuse. Is there justice in one? There is no statute of limitations for murder. What about the murder of a soul? Is it fair to allow a sexual abuser to go free just because he did such a good job at the emotional end of the abuse that the victim is incapable of reporting it until the allowed time has expired? In a sense the better the abuser, the more predatorial, the more manipulative, the better their chance of never having to face justice - on this earth.

A Visit with David Clohessy - January 20, 2007

2007-06-20T21:50:00.000-04:00

Today was different. My brain was educated and my heart has much to ponder.

Today I picked up SNAP's (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests) national president at the airport and chauffeured him around the big city for a press conference. If you are not familiar with David Clohessy you can Google his name and meet him. This is exactly what I did last night when my offer to pick him up and tote him around was accepted.

Whoa! The dude is in Wikepedia! A fact I don't think he was aware of prior to my informing him. David has been on all major networks, and interviewed by most talk show hosts. Major publications, like Time, have carried his articles and when someone news related needs a comment on pastoral misconduct they go to David. His own journey to becoming president of SNAP began at the hands of his own perpetrator.

So, what's he like? Nothing like one would expect such a notorious person to be. He is refreshingly real - and no better with directions than me! We spent quite a while roaming around some interesting sections of Atlanta looking for the lawyer's office. Once found, we were ushered in and I was even asked to help proof the press releases. I was also the official poster maker for the day.

Let's see...... Chauffeur, Editor, Advertising Agent - all in one day. Beats painting the house!

To the heart of things, David has me thinking about the importance of disclosure of the perpetrators name. Is he molesting the next door neighbor's kids? No pressure from David, just a question. One that God and I are going to have to wrestle out. What do you guys in blogger world feel about this?

Having never been a very politically active person - I think I have been heard to say things like I HATE POLITICS! - my cage was rattled a wee bit to be swept up into an announcement of new litigation filed against the ex-minister Earl Paulk. Feel free to Google him too. The list of accusations being handed the man will make you sick. Seems, he thought he was due a harem and he apparently collected and that is just starters as far as the law suit is concerned. Why is this type of behavior not illegal?

As I shared my own story with David, I watched and listened to the new me. That is who I was. Me. No striving for approval. No need for his acceptance. No need to be the constant center of attention. Healed and whole more than I even knew I could be and I didn't even realize how radical was the change until I sat down to write this.

Well, it is late and tomorrow I have to paint the house - or scrape, sand, patch, caulk, and prime it in order to get it ready to paint. I feel for the house....I have been there.

Facing Death

2007-05-31T19:12:00.001-04:00

I haven't posted anything for the past two days because I have been emotionally tied up. My very dear friend and co-worker, Bonnie, was in a head on collision on Tuesday night. I received a phone call at 4:30 that morning from another of her friends. I was told that she had been in a terrible accident. Through tears I heard that they did not know if she would live. She had a torn aorta, her left arm, face and right foot were crushed. They were considering amputating the arm but were holding off because of the aorta tear. They were giving her a 25% chance of surviving the day.

All I remember is saying. God, I am sick. I am so sick..... And feeling this total shock and foggy sensation. I work next door to this lady and over the past 4 years we have grown close. We have taken a ton of college classes together and we plan our lessons and she is the only person at my school who knows my story that you all know. She is one of the most trustworthy and level headed people I have ever met.

Because the medical and trauma center here does not have a doctor who deals with vascular surgery of this severity, they air lifted Bonnie to a larger hospital 150 miles away. But, they had to wait on an airplane to take her there. There is so much smoke in the air from the Florida fires that it could not land.

There she was met by a team of doctors who stood around her bed and discussed what actions to take and in what order. They decided to deal with the arm at the same time they worked on the aorta so she went pretty quickly to surgery. The aorta was not torn completely through and had only leaked a small amount of blood into the chest cavity or she would not still be with us.

Bonnie faired very well in the 5 hour surgery. Her aorta is all patched and they have decreased her sedation so she recognizes family. She is moving the fingers on her left arm that they "reconstructed" - scary word. While she was enroute I prayed fervently for the nerves in that arm. I felt like I was willing them to grow together and be healed.

Her face is so swollen she cannot open her eyes. I suspect work on her face will have to wait until the swelling goes down.

Bonnie is doing so well that they plan on orthopedic surgery on her foot tomorrow. And the doctors are telling her husband that she has some hard therapy ahead but he can see her back in her classroom in about 6 months! That was the most wonderful thing he could have said.

For several hours I was facing the loss of one very, very dear to me. I was in such shock that I started shivering - and I NEVER get cold. I am always HOT! I am menopausal! Slowly good news filtered over here and we have hung on to every word of it.

Please pray for Bonnie. People all over the country are praying for her. I want to hear the doctors say, "You are kidding, I can't believe she is doing this well!" She is moving fingers that she came close to losing - that is one big one. She whipped the odds, that is two. Now for #3!

Bonnie loves flowers and plants so I picked the picture above for her. Bloom on Bonnie!

Facing GAD

2007-05-27T15:03:00.000-04:00

GAD - General anxiety disorder according to Wikipedia is: "an anxiety disorder that is characterized by excessive, uncontroll-able and often irrational worry about everyday things. The frequency, intensity, and duration of the worry are disproportionate to the actual source of worry, and such worry often interferes with daily functioning."

I have it. Yesterday I was reminded of that. It was a humbling experience.

We stopped by Lowe's to buy a few items and discovered the paint we want has a big rebate this weekend. That meant if we could make a final decision and buy what we needed for the outside of the house then we could save about $80. We had tried out a couple colors on our storage building and thought we had it down to what we wanted, a touch of black added to a doubled "recipe" from one of the cards. So the guy mixed it up and there we had 5 gallons of paint that sure did look a lot darker than we thought it would. So, he added some white and lightened it a little and we went with it.

On the way home I worried and worried that it was not the same as what we had already picked out. It looked so much darker. We had just spent $300 on paint and what if it was the wrong color. My anxiety was climbing and it was not rational and I knew it. Then once I got home I felt nauseas and took something and crawled in the bed talking to myself about why I did not need to feel this degree of anxiety - the paint had proven perfect but the anxiety just wouldn't retreat.

Then it hit me. When was the last time I had taken my Effexor? Hmm. Not that day. Not the day before. No wonder. Effexor unlike other anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds has a more immediate effect and if you forget to take it the results show up in a day or two and you come down with flu like symptoms including nausea. So I popped my meds and read for a little while. An hour later, I was fine. Anxiety almost gone and no nausea.

I forget sometimes that underneath the meds remains GAD. About 3% of those living in the U.S. have GAD and 2 out of 3 are women. I am willing to bet that those women are at least perimenopausal. That is when mine started, when my hormones began to plummet.

A symptom of GAD is being extra hard on oneself......so, I am hard on myself for having GAD! I do see the humor in that. :-) What a vicious cycle. I first had to break that cycle by being ok with not being ok with being anxious. I know - weird, but it worked. I would get anxious over feeling anxious, I still do at times. I had to be ok with being anxious over my anxiety. Finally I could get at being ok with my anxiety itself.

I live so normally the majority of the time, that when the anxiety flares up due to a circumstance or my forgetting my meds, I have to remind myself it is ok to be flawed. But because of my GAD I have learned to be careful giving "pat" answers to people. To tell me there is nothing to be worried about when I am unmedicated is pointless. I know that. Nevertheless I stay anxious. The worst thing I can do is become frustrated at myself over the anxiety. Shame causes it to skyrocket.

So remember my GAD when you think you have an easy answer for someone. What is easy for you may very well be impossible for someone else.

Today, I thank God for Effexor! (I wonder if they would pay me for this advertisement?)

SNAP Support Group Meeting

2007-05-25T08:29:00.000-04:00

Last night was a first for me. I sat in a circle with others who had also been abused at the hands of a minister. I shook hands with others who have shared similar paths. I heard stories that included the pain of pastoral sexual misconduct.

SNAP stands for Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests and was established as a result of the Catholic Church's explosion of abuse accusations 5 years ago. It is amazing how much that blew open people's knowledge and I am grateful for those willing to stand up and fight to get this horror into the public's conscious.

SNAP is open to those abused in other denominations and faiths and over half of us represented other churches.

I was impressed with some great ground rules for the meetings. Here are a few:

Everything said in the group is confidential. What happens here, stays here.

We share feelings and experiences, which just are or were. There are no right and wrong statements. Please don't judge the statements and don't judge the persons who share them.

When speaking use "I" statements rather an "you" or "they." Please focus on your feelings, not opinions.

Avoid individual problem solving. Individuals can learn from others' experiences and solve their own problems.

Giving and asking for advice is not allowed. It is empowering and healing for us to gather ideas that will benefit us. None of us are experts and none of us know what is best for another.

The session is divided into two parts. During the first part, everyone is invited to share their experiences or feelings individually. No on speaks more than once during this part. There is no discussion during this time. The second part is an open discussion when everyone may talk about what they learned from the previous sharing.

Two things stood out to me last night. One: Diversity was great. We were all very different and probably would not have congregated together if put in a room full of people. But when the sharing started -we were all knit together in our respect and care for one another. Two: All of us there last night have chosen at least one way to try and change the world for the better in relation to sexual abuse and everyone's way was different and creative.

For me, it was a good experience and a very needed one. For me it was a 2 hour drive up and a 3 hour return trip due to work on the highway and the bottleneck behind it. That is a lot of driving. Will I do it again? I don't know. It cost me about $35 for gas and supper but the greatest cost was the exhausting return trip...and I dozed for much of it. My husband had accompanied me and drove home.

Yet, the people there last night have already snared a special place in my heart.

Normal Everyday Stuff: Phone Call 2 to Abuser

2007-05-21T19:56:00.000-04:00

I really didn't want to make this call. I couldn't gather my thoughts and even as I talked with Tom and my husband, I was unsure of my need. Part of me wanted Bob's response to be "no" and part of me wanted it to be "yes". It was neither.

I had no idea what I wanted to say, for one last time, if he denied my request to see him face to face. Yes, I deserved an explanation ,but the only thing I could think that I had to know was "What happened to the dogs?"

I told my husband, "No mumbling. No comments. No angry retorts." No reply. "You are ignoring me."

"Ok, I promise."

Tom asked if I wanted him in the room or out in the reception area and I simply pointed with some vigor to the chair he was standing in front of and then cracked a smile. He smiled back and sat down.

After taking the phone number out, I dialed and Bob's wife answered. I didn't remember what she sounded like. I hadn't remembered what Bob sounded like. I asked to speak to Bob and she asked who it was, and I told her. I had made the decision to talk with her if she wanted, but she hesitated and moment and simply said, "Hold on." and went and got Bob.

I wanted Tom and Robin there but I purposely looked away from them when Bob came to the phone. I especially did not want to pick up on my husband's anger or protectiveness if it arose. I did not want to deal with anyone's emotions but my own. They were enough to sort through and listen to.

When Bob said hello, I told him I was sitting with Tom and my husband in Tom's office calling him back as I had said I would. Bob responded with something like this." "Well, I just got back from Argentina and we haven't had time to all sit down as a family. I am not sure when that can happen. Michael's family is due into town tonight . I am afraid it might be a while...... before we can work anything out. I am still open to it but it might be quite a while before we can all talk and well it might be quite a while if we decide to do this - like several months. You do know what Michael does don't you? And I was thinking maybe you and Tom and Michael and I could sit down after the summer."

"Yes, I know Michael is state youth director and works the camps for the summer... and I thought you might be more comfortable with him joining us and I'm ok with that."

"Well, between that and his and (his daughter's) going out of town for a week and a half and the national conference in August, it might be late summer or fall if we decide to do it."

"Ok, well when do you want me to touch base with you again? How am I going to know?"

"Well, its going to be a while. Maybe just call back if you don't want me to call you." We both paused thinking about the options.

"How about if you get Michael to email Tom, and Tom can tell me, and I'll call you then?"

"Ok, Michael can call Tom, and then you can call me." He was sounding relieved.

"How is your son?" he suddenly threw in.

It was such a fast change of subject that I was trying to mentally wrap my mind around his question. I was wondering how he knew anything about my son. "Which one?" I replied somewhat confused while Tom leaned over to Robin and said "He is trying to normalize the conversation."

"The one I met at Al's (my brother) funeral. Do you have more than one?"

"Yes I have tw0. You met my oldest. Our youngest just got married."

"Which one did I meet?" he asked betraying the fact that he might be a little more nervous than he was letting on.

"The oldest and they are both doing well."

"I still have that picture you took of (my daughter). The one with the bubbles." We both said "the bubbles" simultaneously. "I had it in my office at work for years and when her daughter was born I framed one of her and put it beside it."

"Do they look alike?" I asked.

"Yes, they look a lot alike. And Di, (wife) has taken up photography." He remembered I was really into it.

"I still take pictures. I like closeups a lot now." I said realizing it seemed ok having this sort of normal, human conversation with him, though I was aware of what he was doing. It was ok.

"We went out to Yellowstone this past year to see the wolves." he shared. "Mostly (wife) takes nature pictures."

"That sounds really fun."

"It was. Seeing the wolves was really awesome."I just got back from Argentina, went down to hunt dove. Dove are pests to the people of Argentina. Someone here asked me if I was going on a mission trip, knowing I was a pastor, and I told them the only mission I was on was to rid the world of some pests." He had a lot to say and at first I was hesitant - but why not? I figured it was ok to just be human this time. I didn't think it could hurt. I need to see the whole picture of who he is and has become. Seems to be healthy as long as I don't lose myself in that part of it.

"My nephew used to run a quail farm down in Thomasville." I shared.

"Really!"

"Bob, can I ask you one thing before we go?"

"Ok," he said rather hesitantly with a change in voice tone, but my question wasn't a hard one.

"What ever happened to the dogs?" Tom looked at Robin and Robin looked at Tom and they both had this exasperated look and shook their heads in disbelief.

"Well, I took them with me when I first moved and they stayed in the back of my truck at the little parsonage and then when I came back down to get the family, I left them with a friend who had quite a few of his own dogs until I could get the kennels built and went back to get them." He seemed quite relieved and surprised that my question had to do with Mack and Preach. "Preach died one hunting trip when I had taken him out. Mack lived to return to the state here, but was way past his hunting years. He eventually died and I buried him in my dog cemetary - lots of sand and easy to dig. I have always had dogs."

"Well, I always wondered." I explained.

"We carry things with us. Life goes on, doesn't it? We continued in areas and things that we shared," he seemed to think that was a comfort, and in a way it was. He had introduced me to backpacking and though I never continued that avenue, we have as a family enjoyed many wonderful camping expeditions. He doesn't know that though. Yeah, I guess there were things we shared that were ok and even some positive. I can handle that.

"So, you'll get Michael to touch base with Tom when you are ready, and then I will call you to see what you decided, right?" I changed the subject and aimed at ending the conversation.

"Yes, I will do that late summer or early fall."

"Ok." I had little choice and it felt fine.

"Take care."

"You too."

Upon hanging up, I gave my rendition of the other side of the conversation to my husband and Tom. Hubby was quiet and not very comfortable with the shallowness of the conversation. Tom asked me how I felt.

I responded by telling him I wasn't sure yet and I wasn't sure I trust myself enough to know. I explained that, "It is easy for me to fall back into the 17 year old. It felt ok talking about normal stuff though I wasn't expecting it, but I could feel myself doing the old 'put aside the reality of the abuse' and try and get from Bob the relational dynamics that I had wanted at 17. I am going to have to be careful to find the full reality and humaness of life, and I think that is a good thing to see the fullness and not just the abuse, without letting the human parts make me susceptible to old patterns. I can feel myself reaching into Bob like the 17 year old. Isn't it amazing that after all these years, I still tend to do that."

Tom nodded for a few moments and then said something that really touched me. "Di, I think you are healthier than you would be if you had not gone down this path. I mean we all have our dealings, but not many of us reach the place that we understand the dynamics of what we feel and why, the way you do. You just see them and share them and put them out there in the light .......... and that is so healthy."

Wow. Now that is being known and cared for and shared with in a righteous and loving, agape way. I am blessed.

Healing from the Inside Out

2007-05-20T09:25:00.000-04:00

Two years ago, my nephew Brent, was clearing a field on the wildlife preserve that employed him. A small tree fell the wrong way, entered the cab of the tractor and a small limb jabbed into his thigh. Being the good old boy he is, he yanked it out and went on to work. Three weeks later the area was swollen, red, and hot to the touch with great red streaks climbing outward from the center.

With some encouragement from the women in his life, wife, mom, grandmother, and aunt; he went to the doctor and began a regimen of antibiotics. After taking several weeks of various medications it became obvious the wound was not going to heal without some surgery. The surgeon went in and opened the wound and found masses of dead tissue and infection that he removed. Bandaged but left open to heal from the inside out, the wound kept Brent home and in bed. Yet, once again the wound closed on the outside before healing could occur on the inside.

Once again surgery had to occur, but this time a long period of wound care accompanied it. Every day, for two weeks, and then every other day for several more weeks, Brent went in to the wound care center for a painful procedure. First he was given a dose of morphine, the bandage was removed, a topical anesthesia was applied, the top of the wound was bathed in saline and an instrument like a water pick was used to tear the edges of the top of the wound back open. A prod was used to reach deep into the layers of flesh (Brent is a large man with strong thighs so we are talking deep.) to explore the very depth of the wound. Only the furthest tissue in was allowed to close up.

The process was so painful that tears flowed even with the morphine and topical anesthesia. As the nurses came to know Brent, they put the water pick into his hand and let him gauge the slowness or quickness of the procedure. Some days he was there 3 hours taking all the pain he could each minute of the procedure. It took about 3 months of painful prodding and reopening of the wound to finally obtain a clean bill of health.

Those 3 months of Brent's healing are much like the 20 years of my emotional healing. I tried many options each time to find the wound healed outwardly, but left much seething underneath. I attended conferences on inner healing, I read books, I received tons of prayer, I sought God and learned to hear his Spirit's leading. Each and every opportunity brought a measure of healing and the grace to continue the journey, but infection in my life remained hidden beneath the healed places. Finally, with the help of a decrease in hormonal balance and the advent of menopause, everything came exploding to the surface and external healing was no longer an option. It was time to go deep and get the puss from the bottom.

The degree of emotional pain I experienced during those first 3 years of work with Cheryl was indescribable. I don't know how I made it through it. Cheryl, my therapist, often called it courage, but to me it was the only choice I had. I could no longer continue with the deep necrosis inside. I became as a child as I emotionally regressed. I lost all control of my emotions; anxiety and shame consumed me. I was almost completely dependent on my therapist. And, then slowly and methodically, I rebuilt who I was from the bottom up.

Like the nurses who worked with Brent, Cheryl and now John, respected my own time table and the work happening inside of me. They often handed me the tools and stood beside me as I cleaned the wounds. They graciously allowed me the time it took and let me breathe and cry between the painful excursions into the unhealed flesh.

My healing will never be the same as anyone else's. I cannot measure someone else's journey by my own. No one else can measure mine by theirs. When I first entered Cheryl's office in August of 2000, I mentally gave myself a year and half or at the most 2 to finish. After a year, I realized I was still tearing dead stuff out and was nowhere near the bottom. After 2 years I began to panic because of my personally set time limit. When year 3 came, a little shame remained for the time this was taking, but I gladly signed up for my master's degree program in order to continue to see Cheryl. I had learned to trust myself and my gut. By the end of year 5, I was ready to let go of Cheryl and move on - or to at least try.

After a brief respite, I found a new therapist, and with John have tied up loose ends here and there. I have also recently faced the pastoral sexual abuse of my childhood with a new knowledge base and a healthier sense of self.

This time, I plan to stay put until God finishes. Wherever you are in your time of healing from whatever it is you are healing, may you find the grace to be the clay on the wheel and trust the potter's hands.

How to Refuse the Victim Role

2007-05-17T19:12:00.000-04:00

In my last post I asked myself a hard question. How do I make sure I leave the victim mentality behind. I have had some good responses and hard questions asked of me. In considering the questions, it occured to me that a post I had written a month ago might have the answer. The My Stuff/ Their Stuff concept seems to play a major role in my letting go of being a victim.

As long as Bob's actions were about me then I remained a victim. To whatever degree any of that lies hidden inside of me, I still remain a victim. When I see Bob's abuse as a statement about him and not me, then I am not a victim and in a sense never was. I am only a victim if I allow his actions to define me.

At first, the abuse was my fault. I was an abuse magnet. Then slowly I came to see he was a predator but I still hated the needy part of myself that allowed the abuse. After dealing with the self hatred, it took some time for me to fully face the degree of abuse and predation he purpetrated on me. Why? Because I believed it was about me. For example: Though I remembered for years that Bob had set me up to keep his friend Charlie company and had felt he wanted me to entertain him sexually, it was not until a few months ago that I realized the fact that he was actually pimping me off on Charlie. Though it was right in front of my face, I couldn't see it. Why? Because, at one time it would have defined me as a whore.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped letting others define me so easily and when I discovered myself back in a "Bob's abuse" season, the experience defined him as a sexual addict and a sadistic and cruel one. His behavior did not define me and I could see it clearly and in a new light.

In the present - his choice of meeting with me or not - is not about me. I have been surprisingly fine with waiting to recontact him. I didn't expect to reach a point of being fine and focussing most of my time on other day to day issues. I was ready for more turmoil than this has caused. I have found strength that I was not aware existed inside of me.

Bob's decision will be about him, his courage or lack of it, his ability to look at truth or his lack of ability, his degree of repentance and recovery, etc. He has tried to make it about me - first as to whether I was still extremely angry, then to whether my therapist is supportive of my doing this and feels I can handle it, and finally to whether my therapist was a quack and pushing me into doing this as the only way to find healing. None are true and he has been told that 4 times now. Three times by me and once through Tom's conversation with his son-in-law, Michael. I expect to hear it again if he decides to not meet with me. I intend to tell him that his decision has to be about him and his need - that I am quite healthy enough to decide my own.

We can all work things out in the therapist's office, but sooner or later we have to work it out in our everyday lives. I am doing that in a deliberate, chosen way with Bob. His stuff is his. His actions and choices are about him. They aren't about me.

I believe this is refusing to be the victim. :-) And, it feels good.

Pastoral Exploitation and Letting it Go

2007-05-15T20:53:00.000-04:00

Letting go is not going to be easy. For years the abuse dealt with me. In my dealing with it, I gained some semblance of control. I also gained a sense of being special - sort of a sick sense but when one seeks to feel special, it can be amazing how it doesn't really matter why you feel special. As a survivor, I have been a "special" client and often heard that "Not many go this deep or have this courage." As I disentangled my identity from being a victim and changed it to being a survivor, the abuse was nevertheless central to my identity.

At times like the last few months, it has been more obvious, more in control, more upfront and in my face. It has to be for me to deal with it at this depth, but I am aware that a time approaches when I will need to lay something down and leave it behind.

How do I move on to a place in which it does not define me or confine me without leaving behind a ministry I believe God has called me to? This sounds like the tight rope once again.

I first made a choice in October to defeat the confines the abuse still had on my life. For 5 years I had avoided church and certainly would not have considered the same denomination in which the abuse occured as a possible church home. But now I am there and it is only with a great deal of determination that I made it through the 3 or 4 months that followed. Slowly the knowledge that I had to face Bob settled in and I began this process. I don't know yet whether I will have that opportunity face to face or if the phone will be the best I am given.

One way or the other, I will soon be full cycle. By the second week in June or perhaps sooner, I will have talked with Bob and finished the cycle I began 34 years ago. What will I do then? Who will I be? I can't completely leave it behind because I have become who I am through the pain. But who I am transcends all of that.

I get the feeling that this new road will be challenging in itself. People get stuck in a victim mentality. I wonder if it is going to be hard for me to not get stuck there? I can see the road up ahead. I wonder what lies around the bend?