Sunday, ‘Safe Church’ 28.04.2024
Today delivered a river of tears. As I sat on the second row in ‘safe church’, ‘Paul’, the visiting Pastor, concluded his message by glancing over to our section with glistening eyes. I searched his face, tears already rolling down my cheeks. I was sitting next to my daughter on one side, and Justin and Katy on the other.
and our son were at home resting.I’d been eager to attend the service. And completely reluctant at the same time. Our history with Paul over the past year made the friction in my heart understandable. This man, preaching from the front, had come into our crisis as HIS friend. As a champion and advocator of the MASTER. Paul had entered our world in the midst of raw despair, and from our limited vantage point, the road to truth and insight was paved with astonishing hindrances. He didn’t know us. He didn’t know
. The role he had been invited to serve in seemed, on the surface, to be just a little ‘church conflict’. A small ‘leadership disagreement’.Paul stepped into a pit of lava. A year later, the burns are as evident on him as they are on us.
As the truth about his long-term friend, the PASTOR, became more apparent every time he met with HIM, Paul committed to completing what he had started. In November 2023, he stood before us all, the victims, in this ‘safe church’ and delivered the AP’s findings.
The relief and validation that day was a healing balm. But the silence was not yet over. While the victim’s voices had finally been heard, the MASTER denied the findings, rejected the AP’s offer, and remained stubbornly in power. Those on the inside with HIM, continued to bleed HIS victimhood, attack the real victims, and shut out the world. HIS remaining church members turned inward, guarding their central figure in a fortified ring. His blood dripped out into the community and into spaces in which HE still had influence.
And we continued to hear from survivors, more and more stories of trauma, fear and pain.
We persisted in advocating for the broken.
The 'Day of Truth' proved to be merely a chapter in the tale, leaving us longing for a conclusive finale.
As Paul glanced gently upon the row of survivors, their stories expressed to him through victim statements and emails, his words from the pulpit resonated deeply, echoing the heart of God.
If you feel stuck in a space… If you feel like you've been on a journey for a while and nothing is changing. I want to encourage you this morning it will change. Just stay with the process. Stay with the one who loves you the most. You are in Him, He is in you. — Paul - ‘Safe Church’, 28.04.24
How desperately we desire this change. For so many of us, the hope for a finale has permeated every fibre of our being, every waking moment. Not as an obsession, but as a resounding cry, God’s heart cry, for the distress and tears to cease. For the new day to come. For freedom of the captives.
God is overwhelmingly for us, and He wants to help you live free. I just want to be honest with you, that freedom takes long time sometimes. But don't give up.
I'm so grateful for who I am. I'm so grateful that he is patient enough to keep coming after that scared little boy
My friends, you will change the world by who you become… (Pause) I don't want to cry anymore… — Paul - ‘Safe Church’, 28.04.24
Again, Paul looked our way. My cheeks were wet with sorrow. I had spent hours during the week talking, counselling, listening, and crying with some of the most wounded by HIM. Their faces fill my mind. It’s like a slideshow of pictures and movies that play one, after another, after another. I’d been writing with some of the victims, as we had tried to make sense of the past. My negligence, my naivety, my inability to chase them and cover them and protect them back then, replays.
I don’t have a time machine. I can’t go back and fix what was. Writing is as close as I’m going to get to understanding these dark moments.
Paul is correct, freedom can take a long time. We’ve been waiting for a big bang—a loud shout.
But sometimes, the greatest freedom comes in the quiet whisper of the night.
After responding to the alter call that morning, and receiving prayer from many, those who know a little and those who know a lot, I drove home thinking that I’d run out of tears for the day. I’d emptied myself out onto the carpet and the pews. Visible droplets of grief had sunk into the fabric.
Those who prayed for me, specifically sought a breaking-off, a smashing of the bricks. They were clear: this was not a ‘walking away from a calling’, but a discarding of the restraints that I no longer require to complete that calling. Not a walking away from the advocacy, but a walking forward without the bondage HE had trapped me in.
I needed space that evening. As I settled into the caravan alone, turned off the light, and sought relief from the emotions of the day, a breaking took place.
I saw it. I saw it clearly. A moment, very early in the history of the church, in 2006, that had shackled me to HIM. I understood it. And it shattered. The trappings of that moment fell to the ground.
I sobbed again. Healing tears. Tears of freedom.
Freedom from HIM, from the control HE has held over me.
God’s truth broke through…
I am not like HIM!
I will share more soon…
Bless you for your heart and courage along with your family and everyone else affected. You and hold your head and your heart high. God knows everything ❤️❤️❤️🙏🏻