The Secret - part three

This is a continuation. If you haven't read the previous post(s), you really should go back and get caught up.


So, years have gone by. A few friends know my deep dark secret (or at least a portion of it.) I can count them on one hand and still have room for the extended family who know. You might say my secret is safe... but not really. You see, there are those who are neither family nor friends who saw it as their business to spread the word. They wouldn't call what they did "gossip" because they are "Christians," but rather they baptize that insatiable drive to jaw-flappin' voyeurism under the umbrella of "sharing prayer requests."

I don't say any of this to bash Christianity. True Christian faith is firmly founded on the principle that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23.) A true, redeemed Christian knows that he is redeemed only by the grace of God. A true, redeemed Christian is ever vigilant to keep from slipping into the trap of pride and shifting focus to the sins of others to make himself "look better." True Christianity is beautiful and humble.

What I experienced from my church, did not fit into any of the above definitions. Understandably, when Todd learned that the child I was carrying was potentially not his, he went to the pastor for counseling. What happened as a result was almost enough to drive me, in my already emotionally distraught state, to gather the "courage" to go through with the suicidal impulses that were plaguing me. Perhaps the pastor was just trying to "help" in his own misguided human way, but it came off very differently. It felt more like he was enjoying our predicament for it's entertainment value... and he was so entertained, he couldn't help but pass it on.

My parents were visiting from out of state at the time, and the pastor insisted on having a meeting with not only me, but he demanded that my parents join us. If I would not tell my parents, he said he would do so himself. (Now mind you, I was not a little girl still living with my family of origin--I had been married for almost ten years and had been away from their home longer than that.) I have very little recollection of the meeting other than my mind wandering to all the ways I could end my life to appease the demands for atonement that this pastor would not leave for Jesus and me to work out on our own. The pastor didn't counsel me; he drilled me.

It wasn't long before I learned from a lady at church that she had heard what had happened from her husband, who had heard it from the pastor as he had presented our "situation" to the church board for "prayer." The thing is, after that, the whispering and finger-pointing seemed to squeeze out any evidence of prayer. I couldn't attend a service there without wondering who was in on the "prayer requesting" (notice, I didn't say "praying"--that's because, once the "request" for prayer has been shared, the sinful itch to gossip has been relieved, and it's much easier to move on with one's mundane life until the next entertainment-seeking itch rears it's ugly head.)

The one helpful thing that the church did offer came only when I refused counseling from the pastor. I can't remember if I told him he was giving me courage to kill myself or not, but I really hope I did. He decided to refer us to a Christian therapist outside our church. We went for a short time (and the church did pay for it at first). Among other things, this counselor advised us to find a new church home where we would be free just to attend (we had been quite involved in our church--to the point that we allowed ourselves to be taken advantage of--which she pointed out as one of the things that had served to get in between us.) This counselor encouraged us to just focus on our family for a season. I wish we could have afforded to continue our therapy. Perhaps we would have worked through some of the problems that still persist all these years later.

As I look back on this season, I have mixed feelings. The pastor did say at one point that "sometimes separation is the best thing for a couple at a time like this..." and something about working out our individual problems on our own. But the thing was, as unhealthy as our relationship was, keeping it intact was keeping it from spinning out of control at a time that I was incredibly fragile (physically, emotionally, spiritually, hormonally...)

I was driven by the fear I mentioned before--the primary thing that kept me from leaving after we had children: the fear that I would loose full custody and wouldn't be there to protect them. A relative had alleged that Todd's father had molested her as a child, and Todd was in denial that that the allegations were worthy of consideration. He had no problem with the idea of leaving the kids alone with his dad. I didn't even like them being alone with both grandparents because Todd's mother was too deep in denial herself to serve as a protector. That's another story which I'll share later.