Scandalous
WARNING: This post is for my Christian readers. You may be offended, angered, sobered, convicted, or indifferent. My hope is that, whatever your initial reaction, you will see yourself for what you are and what you would be if not for the grace of God (and by you I mean WE). Specks of dirt, beautiful wretches, and scandalous grace.
One day a young woman entered a church...
Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke doesn't it?
Let's call her Grace...
Grace had a lot of baggage. In her 30-ish years of life she had already experienced more pain, loss, abuse, and numbness than she knew what to do with. Her abuse began when she was a young child at the hands of her father, uncle, and brother. Each of them were responsible for stripping away her innocence, dignity, and hope. After years of unimaginable torment that became her daily reality she met a man. This man was better than any of the men she had ever known or loved. He could take her away from the men in her family and give her a place that felt like home.
This 35 yr old man took 15 yr old Grace for himself, molding what was left of her into something he could derive pleasure from. Grace was told she was "happy." They had children together. Drugs and alcohol became something that made life livable for Grace. She was told by the father of her children that she was unfit to be a mother, she agreed. Yet she told people she was happy, that she was living her life the way she wanted, in the fast lane.
Years went by. Eventually Grace left the father of her children, moving on to another "relationship" and another child. After that man there was another, the worst yet. Grace found she had reached a new level of abuse although she did not yet realize the depth of human depravity or that there was any other kind of life out there for her. Now her substance abuse kicked it up a notch. Meth became her friend, her one true companion that would make her feel *almost* alive. When she was high she could do anything and not regret it. She didn't have to remember anything, didn't have to do anything, and at the same time she felt like she could do everything.
Another man and another pregnancy. By now Grace had birthed 4 children, none of whom she had with her. There had to be something or someone else out there. She couldn't keep going on like this. This 5th pregnancy could be different if only she could find a little hope. There had to be something else out there. Was she really as worthless as she'd been told she was? Was her only value her body as a punching bag? Could someone love her and what did genuine love look like? Was there such a thing as a free gift?
Then Grace entered a church. She sat in the midst of strangers for weeks. A few people, including the pastor, got to know her. She started to feel safe. A spark of hope was ignited. She felt like her questions were on the verge of being answered. Could this be it? Her new beginning? Had she found the source of love after all?
The baby she carried began to show and the congregation took note. Could it be she had found a family? People who would love her, help her, accept her...maybe even throw her her very first baby shower? Finally, after 3 decades of despair here was refuge, here was sanctuary. The pastor even took her aside one day to speak to her, how lucky could she be?
The pastor asked her if she was married. She replied negative.
He asked, "So you are an unwed mother?"
She answered, "Yes."
He said, "We do not allow unwed mothers to attend here and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Punchline.
Are you laughing?
...No?
Me neither.
For that church it is the end of the story and they were satisfied with the ending. For Grace, it was not. She left the church and left hope behind, crushed beneath their lofty steeple. Her one true friend Meth returned. She delivered a miraculously healthy child. Meth stayed to care for them. Another pregnancy, the 6th, and once again faithful Meth was there. Another miraculously healthy baby.
Then death came. Grace's mother drank herself to death. Weighed down by the guilt of secrets never shared, her daily gallon jug of whiskey took her liver and then her life. Then her two aunts suffered heart attacks on the same day after learning of her mother's death. Then her grandmother, after the death of her daughter and two sisters, also passed away.
Finally sobriety reached Grace. This was not a way that she wanted to live and definitely not the way she wanted to die. The 12 steps became her lifeblood. For the first time in her life she found herself raising two children on her own. She was barely surviving with the help of transient housing. She wanted to do more than survive. Maybe another shelter could help. Maybe there was refuge out there somewhere. Maybe there was a place that would make her kids feel safe. Then someone told Grace about The Sheepfold.
Grace came to us guarded but grateful. She was curious what this place was all about and why the house managers were so weird. She listened to the other moms' life stories and found they had things in common. She read some books about victims of domestic violence and realized for the first time the extent and patterns of her abuse. She was not alone and she had questions.
Over time Grace began to search in earnest for Love. Her questions became those of someone who dared to hope again. She has found Love, or rather Love has found her, and she has learned that He will not let her go. Love told her she was precious, beautiful, and could be made new. Love told her that the ground is level at the foot of the cross. Love told her that His Love is everlasting, that the old has passed and the new has come. Grace has experienced the power of Grace.
The next chapter of eternity has begun for Grace and it looks like this:
PS. If you want to dig deeper into this woman's experience and the church's response to her please read John 8:1-11. It is the example I would like to send to the church that so utterly, inexusably, failed to follow Christ's example. But then I remember Luke 6 and am sobered by the memories of times my pride got in the way of people seeing Christ's love in me.
One day a young woman entered a church...
Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke doesn't it?
Let's call her Grace...
Grace had a lot of baggage. In her 30-ish years of life she had already experienced more pain, loss, abuse, and numbness than she knew what to do with. Her abuse began when she was a young child at the hands of her father, uncle, and brother. Each of them were responsible for stripping away her innocence, dignity, and hope. After years of unimaginable torment that became her daily reality she met a man. This man was better than any of the men she had ever known or loved. He could take her away from the men in her family and give her a place that felt like home.
This 35 yr old man took 15 yr old Grace for himself, molding what was left of her into something he could derive pleasure from. Grace was told she was "happy." They had children together. Drugs and alcohol became something that made life livable for Grace. She was told by the father of her children that she was unfit to be a mother, she agreed. Yet she told people she was happy, that she was living her life the way she wanted, in the fast lane.
Years went by. Eventually Grace left the father of her children, moving on to another "relationship" and another child. After that man there was another, the worst yet. Grace found she had reached a new level of abuse although she did not yet realize the depth of human depravity or that there was any other kind of life out there for her. Now her substance abuse kicked it up a notch. Meth became her friend, her one true companion that would make her feel *almost* alive. When she was high she could do anything and not regret it. She didn't have to remember anything, didn't have to do anything, and at the same time she felt like she could do everything.
Another man and another pregnancy. By now Grace had birthed 4 children, none of whom she had with her. There had to be something or someone else out there. She couldn't keep going on like this. This 5th pregnancy could be different if only she could find a little hope. There had to be something else out there. Was she really as worthless as she'd been told she was? Was her only value her body as a punching bag? Could someone love her and what did genuine love look like? Was there such a thing as a free gift?
Then Grace entered a church. She sat in the midst of strangers for weeks. A few people, including the pastor, got to know her. She started to feel safe. A spark of hope was ignited. She felt like her questions were on the verge of being answered. Could this be it? Her new beginning? Had she found the source of love after all?
The baby she carried began to show and the congregation took note. Could it be she had found a family? People who would love her, help her, accept her...maybe even throw her her very first baby shower? Finally, after 3 decades of despair here was refuge, here was sanctuary. The pastor even took her aside one day to speak to her, how lucky could she be?
The pastor asked her if she was married. She replied negative.
He asked, "So you are an unwed mother?"
She answered, "Yes."
He said, "We do not allow unwed mothers to attend here and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Punchline.
Are you laughing?
...No?
Me neither.
For that church it is the end of the story and they were satisfied with the ending. For Grace, it was not. She left the church and left hope behind, crushed beneath their lofty steeple. Her one true friend Meth returned. She delivered a miraculously healthy child. Meth stayed to care for them. Another pregnancy, the 6th, and once again faithful Meth was there. Another miraculously healthy baby.
Then death came. Grace's mother drank herself to death. Weighed down by the guilt of secrets never shared, her daily gallon jug of whiskey took her liver and then her life. Then her two aunts suffered heart attacks on the same day after learning of her mother's death. Then her grandmother, after the death of her daughter and two sisters, also passed away.
Finally sobriety reached Grace. This was not a way that she wanted to live and definitely not the way she wanted to die. The 12 steps became her lifeblood. For the first time in her life she found herself raising two children on her own. She was barely surviving with the help of transient housing. She wanted to do more than survive. Maybe another shelter could help. Maybe there was refuge out there somewhere. Maybe there was a place that would make her kids feel safe. Then someone told Grace about The Sheepfold.
Grace came to us guarded but grateful. She was curious what this place was all about and why the house managers were so weird. She listened to the other moms' life stories and found they had things in common. She read some books about victims of domestic violence and realized for the first time the extent and patterns of her abuse. She was not alone and she had questions.
Over time Grace began to search in earnest for Love. Her questions became those of someone who dared to hope again. She has found Love, or rather Love has found her, and she has learned that He will not let her go. Love told her she was precious, beautiful, and could be made new. Love told her that the ground is level at the foot of the cross. Love told her that His Love is everlasting, that the old has passed and the new has come. Grace has experienced the power of Grace.
Dear friends, let us love one another, because love comes from God. Whoever loves is a child of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. And God showed his love for us by sending his only Son into the world, so that we might have life through him. This is what love is: it is not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the means by which our sins are forgiven. Dear friends, if this is how God loved us, then we should love one another.
-1 John 4:7-11
The next chapter of eternity has begun for Grace and it looks like this:
PS. If you want to dig deeper into this woman's experience and the church's response to her please read John 8:1-11. It is the example I would like to send to the church that so utterly, inexusably, failed to follow Christ's example. But then I remember Luke 6 and am sobered by the memories of times my pride got in the way of people seeing Christ's love in me.
Joanna, thank you!
ReplyDeletethis post is perfect and this needs to be heard!
Matt and I have 2 friends that are our age and haven't set foot in a church since they were children. They are both "Athiests" and they "hate Christians and the BS that comes with Christianity." And I don't blame them one bit! I'm sick of it too!
Churches are so supporting and loving amongst each other. They will even donate to charities to "help the lost" but when it comes to putting actions to their words? Look what happens.
With our one friend, his mom just walked out and left one day when he was 7 yrs old. He was left with his dad and never heard from her again. Did their church help them? Love them? Support them? Sure, for about a week they delivered meals.
Then the gossip and the finger pointing and the wispering started. He claims that he never wants to be associated with Christians ever again. (Exept for me and Matt)... It is heartbreaking to see!
Christians, open your eyes, look in a mirror, stop gossiping and judging, and be more like Christ! He ate with sinners, and loved them, and they turned to Him in the end.
Precious and timely for me, Joanna. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThe "church" certainly needs to own up to its mistakes and become more like Christ. I so appreciate you sharing this dear one's story....and grateful for a happy ending. Bless you Joanna for being God's hands and feet and may we all truly be the same.
ReplyDelete