A Rude Awakening

I try so hard to forgive the wounds from my childhood in a church full of loving people who I think meant well. But sometimes, those wounds resurface, and I'm angry all over again.

As a 15-year-old who just spent her first summer in Jamaica, I came home knowing God had called me into missions, I just didn't know what that meant. Five men came to me after I spoke to my church, telling me I had to be married to do that, and my husband would have to be the missionary.

I was so crushed. I thought God wanted to use me, not just make me a wife.

And so began the stubborn pride in me to be single and prove to everyone I knew that God could use women, single, in the ministry.

God broke down a lot of that pride in me. He placed a calling in my life to be a teacher, then he introduced me to Josh Blain, the man who stole my heart and who I longed to serve alongside. God has used Josh as a beautiful example of what unity and partnership should look like. Josh has given me a glimpse of the true joy of marriage because he walks beside me, he doesn't make me follow. He and I are in ministry together.

I thought I was okay with those wounds. I've spent many years working through them, begging God to take them away. But yesterday, they resurfaced.

Without going into a full-out soap-box, let me just say I hate denominations. People get so wrapped up in a title that they forget the body, and Christ's church is divided.

I was asked to sing at my home church while on my travels, something I enjoy doing and look forward to. The church just got a new pastor, I met him Saturday, and really had a great impression of him.

Sunday morning came, I lugged my guitar to church, and was asked to "step into the office," a sign that should have told me something bad was coming.

Remember, I had a great first-meeting with the new pastor, so when he said, "Our by-laws state that only Baptists can sing at church," I thought he was completely joking.

I burst out laughing, then heard the following statement come out of this new pastor's mouth.

"We can't let just anyone sing. If a Mormon came in and wanted to sing a song, we wouldn't let them."

Wow. And 'denomination' just became a dirty word.

Forget the fact that I am a Christ follower. I didn't realize Wesleyans were grouped with Mormons. Forget the fact that I got saved in that church, and the fact that I grew up there. Forget the fact that I traveled on three missions trips while at that church, and followed God's leading into the ministry.

I was so hurt.

Because I am Wesleyan, I'm not good enough. And all of my childhood insecurities came flooding back.

I looked at my dad's face, and it donned on me. This guy was being serious.

The pastor said, "Are you mad at me?"

I didn't know what to say. A weak "No" slipped out.

"Okay. Good."

He left, and I turned to my dad, and instantly burst into tears.

Rejected by my home church. That one stung.

I tried to sit through the worship, but I could not regain my composure. I hate that one man's words cut me so deeply. I finally wrote my dad a note telling him I was going to walk home, stood up, and walked out of the doors, telling myself I would never go to church there again if it meant more hurt.

My mom walked home with me, and talking through some of that emotion was good. But if I'm being totally honest, I'm still reeling. I am so hurt and angry and disappointed and disgusted.

Denominations divide the body of Christ. People who think their name gets them to heaven or qualifies them for more holiness than others make me so frustrated. I understand that it wasn't the pastor's opinion- he's new and is trying to follow the church constitution, but I'm still hurt by him.

Shouldn't we all be working on the same goal? Shouldn't we all have the same focus? Shouldn't we walk together and love one another with fierceness?

I fail to understand.

In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul is getting onto the church for this very issue. People were following Paul, and Peter, and several other missionaries, and Paul called them on it, saying, "Shouldn't we be followers of Christ?"

Verses 10-13 state it much more eloquently than I am, but that's the gist. Jesus never said, "Be Baptist," or "Be Wesleyan," or "Be Church of Christ." He called both Jew and Gentile to follow him. But people's rules make that simple practice difficult.

And the body takes a beating.

Any wisdom out there? I would certainly welcome it.