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Lori's avatar

“Dear deep and literal thinking neurodivergent young people: You must continually force your nervous system outside of its window of tolerance, without trauma-informed clinical support, or live with a dreadful, overwhelming and perpetual sense of personal responsibility for the eternal destiny of everyone you fail to reach. We’ll help you cope with this unreasonable demand by heaping loads of guilt and shame on you.

Oh, and only bring ‘sharp’ people.

Also, if the resulting cognitive dissonance of this eventually catches up to you and sends you over the edge, you’ll be on your own. Good luck.”

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Jeni Key's avatar

“Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words,” following Jesus was always meant to be a whole-life journey.

In the culture of the icoc I was apart of, “sharpness” made you a leader, not fruitfulness. There was respect from leaders for a hippie college girl who loved people so much that she couldn’t stop talking about Jesus. I was the most fruitful person in campus, but I was punished for it. For example, after I got 4 visitors to church with me one Sunday, my leader told me I was no longer allowed to sit next to my boyfriend so I would focus on the visitors only. Geez my bf was in singles and campus was so separated I barely saw him anyways. our women’s leader forbade me from sitting with my boyfriend on Sundays - the only church meeting campus had with the singles and adults- I barely saw him as it was.

I also wasn’t allowed to study the Bible with visitors I brought to church; I could come to the studies, IF the study leader remembered to call me and tell me when and where, but I needed to let the study leader be in charge. They literally forgot to tell me one of my friends I’d brought was getting baptized once.

In the young married ministry, my husband and I excelled at bringing people to church. One day the church leaders called to invite us to join a super secret BT of the sharp young marrieds, put together to help grow the church. Apparently they’d not had any visitors to the BT and wondered if we would join them. Unfortunately I felt honored to finally be included among the sharps when now I wished I’d given them a figurative middle finger.

After leaving - a big question, a big hole, is how to share my faith? I don’t have anywhere to invite anyone to. It’s been weird when I get into a great conversation with someone and start to talk about Jesus and get to that point when I’d invite them to church, and… nothing. But what I’ve learned is how much I was trained to control the narrative, to control a potential conversion process. I’ve had to let go of that, and remember that one plants, another waters, but God makes it grow. What beautiful freedom there is in simply, freely, lovingly scattering water droplets! And yet there’s the sadness and regret of the converts I won in the past, submitting them to the sons and daughters of hell I was myself imprisoned by. I am just so very grateful that God is not the God represented by that church.

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