This Is Something I Never Wanted to Do, But I Need Help.....

Asking for money is something I don't feel comfortable with at all. I have never put a PayPal donate button on my blog, or made an appeal for money myself. Hell, I don't even feel comfortable asking for money for various causes.

I have only done that twice since starting the blog that I can remember, once to ask people to help popular ex fundamentalist writer and divorced mother Vyckie Garrison keep her house (that was quite successful, raising over $19,665, I was proud to be a part of such an effort), and once to ask people to donate to a St. Louis animal shelter that had fallen on hard times.

I have had to overcome my reluctance and guilt over appealing for donations recently, because quite simply, I'm broke. I have over $2,500 in bills that I can't pay, and over $900 of that needs to be paid in the next several days or is past due, and I have had to start an appeal for donations on GoFundMe

How did I get in this mess? Well, several circumstances have come up, first I have a vehicle payment for the first time, on top of my regular house payment, after the vehicle related disasters in late October. I have also found out recently that I have Fibromyalgia on top of the depression and sleep apnea that I already knew I have.

Medication plus working out to lose weight and build strength have helped, but I'm still not sure I could handle working my current full time job plus what would probably be a physically demanding part time job with the energy levels that I have. Add to this fact that I still have outstanding bills still from a sleep study I had back in April, which is how I found out I have sleep apnea and got on a CPAP machine. One of the two companies that billed me for that from that has turned me over to a collection agency.

As it stands right now, I have $914.73 in urgent bills including my house payment, vehicle payment, property taxes and utilities. All are due within a week, and some are past due. As for the medical bills, I currently owe $1,584.52, some of which has been turned over to a collection agency from Texas, thankfully they don't have my phone number, they have just been sending me notices by mail, but it will ruin my credit. Hopefully I can negotiate with them to bring it down, but I need some funds in order to come up with a payment plan or a reduced settlement on it.

Fundamentalist Book Firing Squad

I have begun clearing out some old books that were given to me by Mr. and Mrs. Psycho. Most were rather harmless, westerns, mysteries, etc, that I hadn't gotten around to reading yet. Some however, as you might expect were very fundamentalist in nature, and there were a few including a book from SBC leader Albert Mohler, that I had bought myself over the years.

I was inspired to clean out the bookshelves upon going to a used bookstore in my town, where I found books like these buried in the shelves.

Yes, that James Dobson.

I had already had some sinister plans in mind for the few books I bought of his, but Ryan Stollar of Homeschoolers Anonymous needed them for research, so off to California they went. I have been playing with pellet guns recently, growing up, anything remotely resembling a weapon was not allowed, even long before my father's mental health issues.

Which seems rather hypocritical of a rule coming from someone who had no qualms about beating me senseless.... but I digress. It's become quite the pointless hobby for me, and I didn't want those Dobson books going possibly into the hands of a gullible parent if given away, and I didn't want the same to happen to the fundamentalist books I have. You can probably see where this is going. 

Plenty of Chaos and a New Diagnosis

Before my post encouraging people to donate to help ex-fundamentalist writer Vyckie Garrison to keep her home this month, the last time I posted was on July 28th. This blog has been highly neglected due to simple lack of motivation, my health, some chaos in my life, and nothing really to write about.

I have been quite astounded that this blog has still been averaging 2,500 + readers a week irregardless, and as of the time of writing, my post raising awareness about the Vyckie Garrison fundraiser has had 1,027 views so far. I want to thank everyone who has been reading the blog in my absence.

It has been a rather strange few weeks lately, I had an odd set of vehicle related catastrophes (though none caused by abusive relatives this time). In three weeks, I have driven 4 different vehicles. Sounds odd, right? Let me back up here, first, the old car that I have had for the past two years blew it's engine, possible head gasket problems. It was scrapped, because it was well past it's prime to begin with.

Then, I get a bank loan to pay for a used Ford F-150 truck on a Monday, and overnight on a Wednesday, this happened.

Neighbors reported hearing a crashing sound at about 1:30 am, but didn't realize what it is, and considering the fact that we are very close to a steel plant operated by US Steel, odd banging and crashing, and shuffling sounds are not that unusual. Considering the time period that it happened, and the town I am in, it was likely some either drunk or high on heroin that hit it and ran.

Please Help Ex-Fundamentalist Writer Vyckie Garrison Keep Her Home

Back in 2009, there were few people openly talking about the most extreme corners of Protestant Christianity, the "ex-fundie" world in the blogosphere and places like Facebook hardly existed. Into this gap stepped writer Vyckie Garrison with her site No Longer Quivering as a voice speaking out against the Quiverfull movement, which rejects all forms of birth control, and feels that every Christian has a divine mandate to have as many children as possible.

No Longer Quivering served as a community for the wives and daughters who left fundamentalism, and gave them a voice. It grew in influence and size, and she started getting more attention from the media and going on speaking tours, raising awareness.

Recently, she has been interviewed by sites as big as Alternet, and has been a speaker at conferences for Center for Inquiry and American Atheists. Her influence on the ex fundamentalist world can not be underestimated, she has inspired many bloggers, and contributed greatly to the campaign to get M. Dolon Hickmon's book 13:24, off to a running start.

A Broken Window and a Major Victory

This has been a stressful week. For two weeks I was out of Cymbalta due to problems with insurance, red tape and hassles involving my name change and an incorrect birth date in my file. Normally I fight through the pain and fatigue, and make sure that I'm using my CPAP mask for sleep apnea, staying hydrated, and just fight though it. By last Wednesday, I just couldn't do it anymore. I called off for the half day of work I had scheduled, and slept until noon. It took me until about 2 pm to be conscious enough to want to go work out, and when I go to my car, I see this.

 

 

I go on with my day, stopping by a Wal Mart to get Gorilla Tape and a roll of plastic similar to what is used when people are painting to keep paint off of carpets and furniture (I figured it would be strong enough not to rip). I knew damn well who did it, but I didn't feel like dealing with it further that day.

 

There's two people who would definitely do something like this, the kind of people who have such poor character that they think there is nothing wrong with beating children , molesting children and teens, holding someone hostage in their home, or attempting to force their way into a house and make violent threats towards the owner if said owner doesn't want them in their life anymore. To top it off, they are working on a rental house for a relative nearly two blocks away, so I know they have been in the area, and on the same street.

 

I made a police report Thursday evening, and thankfully the officer that responded did far better than the last two times officers had to respond to my address. I gave the dispatcher a little background the last two incidents, and made reference to the order that M. Dolon Hickmon helped to draft, and what the police chief had said the last time. I overheard another dispatcher say "oh God" in frustration as though they were saying "not this house again...".

 

The officer that responded did respond quite well to the situation and though he said what I expected that no charges can come from this without a witness or video recording, etc. If the object used to break it was left in the car, that would even help, since fingerprints could be run, but no such luck.

11 Months Until I Can Move, But Where Do I Move To?

Yesterday, July 20th marks 11 months until I can sell my house, and I can't wait to move, this town has been nothing but problems, both with family and my former church, if you aren't familiar with all this, check out my updated My Story page, I have spoken about it at length, the problems with family, and the church/cult.

It's time to start over somewhere else, and I'm not sure if I should stay in the St. Louis area, or start all over somewhere else completely (which is what I'm leaning toward).

If leaving the St. Louis area entirely, I need a city that is not too expensive, not crowded/traffic congested endlessly (like say Atlanta, Chicago, New York City), and a place where industrial work, especially warehousing is plentiful.

"Homeschool Sex Machine": One Man's Humorous Look At His Homeschool Uprbinging.

My name is Matthew Pierce and I write stuff.  Sheldon is handing me the reins for
a guest post to introduce my new ebook.

Homeschool Sex Machine: Babes, Bible Quiz, and the Clinton Years  is a collection of stories about homeschool secret societies, deranged Sunday School teachers, and youth pastors with frosted tips.  

It also contains the word “bosoms,” which has
earned the ebook a well-deserved blacklisting from several Christian websites.

So, about me: I grew up in a conservative church environment and was homeschooled for approximately 37 years.  

 Thanks to an ingenious plan wherein I grew to the freakish height of 6'8, I was eventually able to enroll in a private school under the guise of "playing basketball". In reality, this was just a cover that allowed me to get close to girls.

Because if there’s one thing that babes love, it’s a homeschooled boy with Three Stooges ties and no social skills. 

Discovering Life: Alcohol

I spent from 12 years old to my escape this past December in a Southern Baptist Convention church, and Baptist churches of different varieties are well known for opposing alcohol. It's rather ironic, considering the fact that the Bible says that Jesus' first miracle was turning water into wine.

The excuses given by many SBC people I knew for this was rather funny, some claimed that it wasn't really wine he turned the water into, but a fermented grape drink that barely had any alcohol content at all. Both from the descriptions given of festive occasions in the Bible, and any sense of ancient history, that's highly unlikely.

It's been said that Jesus turned water into wine, but Baptists for centuries have been trying to turn it back into grape juice, which is rather accurate.

There's also the old jokes about Baptists and alcohol that are common in conservative Christian circles, most revolving around Baptists secretly trying to drink without their friends knowing.

"What's the difference between a Baptist and a Methodist? The Methodist will say hi to you in the liquor store"

"How do you keep a Baptist from drinking all your beer on a fishing trip? Invite another Baptist" 

For a few months after I left, I didn't drink any alcohol, not because of any lingering religious guilt or the like, but because I assumed that any amount of alcohol while on Cymbalta would be a disaster that would probably land me in a hospital.

Well, I found out that wasn't completely accurate, limited amounts of alcohol (2 drinks a day maximum) actually wouldn't be a problem. That kind of limit was fine by me, the idea of getting plastered drunk doesn't appeal to me at all, especially the throwing up afterwards. As a kid, when I would get the flu, the part I always dreaded the worst was throwing up, especially that acidic taste in the mouth and throat afterwards, bleh.

Anyway, about two months ago, I went to the brewery and restaurant of St. Louis brewing company  Schlafly. The food was great, but when in the restaurant, and during the brewery tour, they allowed people to sample different beers.

Some of them, I might have actually liked, and did like at first, but all of the beer I tried to some extent had this bitter seltzer like aftertaste. I was told later that this was the hops commonly used in beer, and that it often takes time to get used to it.

I gave up on beer after that, but not alcohol itself, and after asking some ex-fundamentalist friends online what they liked, I kept trying different things, some drinks became my favorites, others I hated. Here's a few of the drinks I have tried since then, and how I felt about them,

(A+) Angry Orchard Crisp Apple

I have found I really enjoy hard cider, and Angry Orchard is the best I have had so far. Crisp Apple is good, a slightly sour but very rich taste to it. It goes great with any kind of food or just kicking back or relaxing at the end of the day.

It All Adds Up, But I Wish It Didn't

(Sheldon's note: Reader discretion advised for this post, especially for abuse survivors)

I made the call was I was dreading making to my sister, but I had to know. Several weeks ago, she had made a vague reference to our "mother"  who I prefer not to refer to her as, (usually I just say her or she, or call her Mrs. Psycho, I can't even bring myself to say her name or refer to her as a mother), trying to protect her from her warped family, but said she hadn't protected her from who she needed to protect her from, our father. She made some vague reference that he had done some things when she was a teen that she found disturbing, she acted like she didn't want me to push it any further, so I didn't.

Even before she had said that, since I had broken free from them after The Confrontation, I began to realize a lot of things that I hadn't noticed before, I spent so much time during my years as the Undercover Agnostic just spending so much time and energy trying to survive that I had no sense of self reflection.

In recent months, some things started to add up, to make sense, that I wish didn't. I didn't want to believe it was possible, not because I had any illusions that she wasn't capable of it, but it felt so disturbing, so violating to even think about it.

So much made sense, the way I was simultaneously the favorite of the family in her eyes, but also hated, and she seemed to resent my very existence as a human being.

 I remembered the way she always seemed jealous of girlfriends and female friends as I was a teen, and would come up with bizarre excuses of why I shouldn't around them, and why they didn't measure up to her ridiculous standards of "godliness", and I could tell she was grasping at straws in trying to come up with excuses, even for her delusional mind, but at the time I couldn't piece together her agenda was. I remembered her delusions about the mother of my best friend Rose supposedly hitting on me when I turned 18 (she was doing no such thing).

I remembered the disturbing way she used to hug me, even though she knew I couldn't stand her hugging me, that always left me feeling violated, and my father, ever her enabler, would chew me out later for making it damn clear that I did not approve (and she would always get annoyed by it), "she just wants to show you that she loves you", etc. (she kept this up until I was about 19/20 years old by the way).

No, no, it just couldn't be possible, I don't want to think about this, I can't remember much of anything before I turned about 12, so it's possible it didn't happen, it probably didn't, you're probably just seeing patterns where they don't exist, I mean, she's pure evil, but that? ...shit, it probably did happen.

June 9th, 2004, One of the Best Days of My Life

June 8th, 2004, approximately 9 pm:

The phone rings that evening at my mom and dad's house, it's my sister, and my mom is wondering why she is calling so late from her home in Lake County, Indiana in the Chicago suburbs. The answer came rather quickly, "Mom, my water broke!".

My sister was 7 months pregnant, and had already had complications with this pregnancy, and had a miscarriage about 2 years before. It so happened that we were already planning to see her, in fact, the old Ford Econoline van that was my grandfather's had already been packed with most everything in it, including baby supplies and baby furniture my mom had been collecting for her.

My mom frantically had us pack what remaining items we needed, and shortly after 10pm, we were on the road. My mom was determined, come hell or high water, that she was going to be there for the birth of her first grand child.

She was so determined, in fact, that she literally floored the gas pedal, and the needle on the speedometer on the old van went up to it's maximum of 85 mph, as the speedometers of many vans and trucks of it's era did, and yet we still kept going faster. What was normally a 6 hour drive from our town in the St. Louis suburbs took only 4 hours.

Early that next morning, as the hours dragged on the hospital waiting room, as TV's were droning on with coverage of President Reagan's death and details of his funeral plans, my oldest niece, "Lilly" was born. She was only 3 pounds, 11 ounces, and short of needing oxygen for only a few hours, and having slight jaundice (which often happens with preemies), she was fine, actually more than fine. At only 5 days old, nurses were baffled at how she kept ending up on the opposite side of her hospital bed in the NICU unit. She was dragging herself by her knees and elbows.

Today, at 10 years old, she is the natural born leader of her two younger siblings, is over half as tall as my sister (which my sister is only 5'2, but still....), and loves animals, including the family's obnoxious Chihuahua, which strangely enough actually listens to her.

The Long History of Atrocities Against Children and Teens by Ireland's Catholic Church

The Washington Post and several Irish and UK media outlets including the Irish Independent have recently been discussing what was known to the locals of the Irish town of Tuam as simply "the Home" and the horrors that went on there.

The Home was a home for children born to unmarried mothers, many of whom had been raped, in western Ireland. The conditions there were deplorable. Malnutrition, neglect, rampant diseases like the measles and TB were common, and to add insult to injury, the children of the Home were ostracized by nuns and teachers in local Catholic schools, forced to sit separately from the rest of the children, and routinely mocked and bullied by the other children.

What is even more of a tragedy is that in 1995, several children playing stumbled upon a mass grave of nearly 800 dead children, that turned out to be bodies of children of the Home. They were unceremoniously dumped in an abandoned septic tank, not even given the decency of having a proper burial in a church cemetery after the suffering they went through. Plans are in the works locally for the church to build a memorial with the names of the children.  As horrific as this case is, it was far from an isolated incident in the history of Ireland's Catholic church.

The "Magdalene Laundries".

The Catholic church of Ireland also had their own system of homes for "wayward girls", much like the Hephzibah House and Lester Roloff homes ran by ministers and organizations within the Independent Fundamental Baptist cult in the US.

They became known as the Magdalene Laundries out of a reference to the Biblical figure Mary Magdalene and the fact that the girls were used as slave labor doing laundry and repairing uniforms for Ireland's prison system, working long hours, 7 days a week with hot and dangerous industrial laundry equipment. Beating and sexual abuse were common, as well as long forced prayer sessions.

2 Weeks of Struggles and Victories

It's been a long two weeks since I last posted here, and much has happened.

The week before Easter, I was informed by my doctor that my constant fatigue could be the result of sleep apnea, I will have a sleep study Monday night, and he said that if this is sleep apnea, I need to lose close to 100 pounds in order to get the symptoms to possibly die down enough to no longer need a machine like a C-PAP machine.

Easter Sunday, I went to leave my house to go to the Unitarian church I am a part of, and heard a constant thumping sound, and quickly turned around after about a block to go back home, realized I had a flat tire, both front tires were too far gone to be driving on anyway, so I replaced them both.

Then this past Tuesday, the Psychos returned. Yes, the two from The Confrontation that I can't even bring myself to call my parents, because they don't deserve it. I was setting up a new lawnmower I bought in my garage when I heard "Happy Horse", my Black Lab/hound mix barking for a few minutes as though there was something he saw at the front of the house.

I heard a woman later at the back fence talking to Happy Horse and petting him, I looked out, and it's Mrs. Sociopath. I close the door to the garage and lock it. I called Granite City's police dispatch, and told the officers about The Confrontation, and that because of their attempted assault back in December, I would not come out of the garage until the officer arrived.

Despite telling the officers that showed up about how disappointed I was that the officer from The Confrontation didn't even ask me if I wanted them arrested, one of the two officers simply told them to leave and not show up or contact me again, took down my information, and had asked what had been going on before, then left filing no police report, and no arrests.

I was frustrated with the lack of response from the police department, and I knew how much good an internal complaint would do (none), so I went to Madison County's courthouse to try to file a restraining order. I was referred to a case worker for a local legal aid group that helps file the order.

She told me to fill out everything that had happened, all abuse and harassment, on the record or not. Despite listing this incident and The Confrontation (which both had law enforcement as witnesses to them), being forced off medication for depression, and being barricaded in the house and threatened with violence if I tried to leave, the judge sent a deputy to tell me (they don't even let people filing for restraining orders sit in the court room), that they felt there "wasn't enough grounds" for a restraining order.

I felt so defeated and frustrated that for a while, I considered going public with my story, under my name, trying to contact local media if any outlet would pick it up and embarrass either Granite City or Madison County into doing the right thing. I was talking to some online friends about it, and I was shocked at the response I got from the author and activist M. Dolon Hickmon, the writer of 13:24.

He went first to Granite City's mayor, then their police chief, demanding answers from them as to why nothing had been done, telling them that he would start making complaints to Madison County's state attorney's office (a state attorney is Illinois' equivalent of a county prosecutor/District Attorney), and Illinois State Police about their failure to do their job.

Stabbed in the Back By A Cult Leader (Part 2): Cease and Desist

After my my last post, in which "Pastor Jones" informed me that he took it upon himself to release details that I explicit told him were to be confidential because he felt he was "obligated Biblically"  to do so, he tried to contact me yet again on Friday, while I was at work. He came to the house, and left this in the door:

Text:

 I am deeply sorry for the misunderstanding associated with our encounter and my responsibility toward God and the church. The last thing I want is for there to be something else in the way of you coming to the truth. Please know that I care very much for you as many at Grace also do, and I would welcome an in person conversation with you.

My response, in a certified letter I sent off today:

In my last visit to your office, I explicitly stated that the only information that should be passed to the congregation is that I was resigning my membership from the church due to the fact that my beliefs had changed. I said that any further information that I told you was “not to leave this office”.

Information I have received in recent weeks leads me to believe that you have gone far beyond those limits, and your e-mail response confirmed that fact. What you did was plainly a gross breach of trust and confidence.

You claim a theological precedent for your decision to do this, yet to the best of my memory, I never recall you making your policy on such matters clear in any sermon. I highly suggest that in the near future, that you state what your policy is on people wishing to leave the congregation; I believe your members have the right to know where you stand on this.

I also clearly stated that even if I could return to Christianity (which was highly questionable at best), I could not return to a denomination as conservative as the Southern Baptist Convention, and I most certainly could not return to Grace Baptist Church.

All communications from you since that time have plainly implied that your only intention in contacting me was an attempt to bring me back to the church, and to agreement with your stances on theology (your statements on me “going astray” and worries that you have driven me farther away from “the truth” make this clear). 

That shows an appalling disrespect for me as a person, and for my decision as an adult of sound mind to leave your congregation in peace, and quite frankly, it has reached disturbing levels in its persistence.

Stabbed in the Back By A Cult Leader.

Recently, I had called my sister to check on her, and as we were talking, she had informed me that my former pastor, who I call "Pastor Jones" for the sake of this post, had leaked out details to my former congregation of a conversation that I had with him, the day I had personally informed him that I was officially resigning my membership at the church, the church I had been a member at for 12 years, until I could finally break free form my abusive family

That day, he had asked why I wanted to resign my membership, so I laid it out there, told him the theological reasons, drifting away from Christianity and becoming more agnostic for lack of a better term, and finding a lot of acceptance and peace at the Unitarian church I am attending now.

Since the abuse of my past played a role in the life experiences that led me there, I told him about how I was beaten until I was about 11 years old, forced off medication for my depression,  barricaded in the house of my "parents" and threatened with violence when I tried to leave at 21 years old, and about the most recent of the abuse, "The Confrontation" , where just this past December, when I was forced to cut them out of my life, and they tried to break into my home, and nearly assaulted me in front of a police officer.

I told him, even if I could believe in Christianity again (which is a massive remote possibility), I couldn't go back to a church as conservative as that church, and I definitely could not return to that church, for my own safety. When I told him this, I explicitly told him that I expected this to be confidential, my exact words were "this should not leave this office". He never once objected to this, and I went on with the presumption that it would remain confidential.

 Unfortunately, Pastor Jones had sided with my family, used the old "honor your mother and father" line on me, doubted what I had told him about the past abuse, and tried to chalk up The Confrontation to holiday related stress, and encouraged me to reconcile with them.

Despite him doing that, I hadn't thought he would stoop that low as to stab me in the back by leaking this information out to the church, but that was the reports I was hearing from my sister. "Mrs. Sociopath" was talking to her about it, supposedly the pastor had told a deacon, who then went on to tell her this information.

After I had heard the news from my sister that he had let this information out, I was furious, I confronted "Jason", my Sunday School teacher when I was in that church about it, he works for the same company that I do, on a different shift.

He denied that Pastor Jones would have done that, and said I had no proof, it's rumors, it could have slipped out some other way, I was rather annoyed with him, defending him, and he got in a little jab about me being agnostic, said that if I considered myself a person guided by logic and reason, then instead of just believing rumors about it, I should ask him myself. I told him I would.

A Sunday of Self Reflection

It's been a long two weeks for me recently, hence why the blog has been silent. A lot of hassles with trying to get my home loan, which is being resolved right now, and I have had more fatigue and pain than I have had in years. Add to that a lot of emotional whiplash from a book that is an absolutely great and profound book, but highly triggering for anyone who grew up in a fundamentalist background, and it's been a mess.

The book is the brilliant work 13:24 by M. Dolon Hickmon. An investigation into a brutal string of murders in a small town leads to all the town's dark secrets spilling out. One of the biggest secrets is a minister who openly advocates child abuse from the pulpit, and whose ideology is remarkably similar to real life fundamentalist leaders.

There were scenes were the minister's son, Josh (who later becomes a lead singer of a death metal band) was having flashbacks to the beatings his father gave him. It was so raw, so vivid, that it was giving me flashbacks, not because of the violence, but because the lines that he used were the exact same lines that were told to me as a child.

There were so many profound statements that really spoke to me through the character Josh. A friend of his asks while he is in a mental hospital due to a suicide attempt and cocaine use. His friend asks them if he wants to bring back an old band that they used to have, he said he wasn't sure about that, and his friend said he used to be passionate about the music. This was his response:

I don't have a clue what I am passionate about because my father stripped away every shred of independence. It was never enough to follow orders. He had to pry me open, to make sure I didn't have any feelings or motivations that he hadn't given me permission to have.

Then, in a scene during a group therapy session for survivors of religious abuse, he talks about why he can't believe in Christianity anymore.

"I was raised to believe that  there was a God, who loves and helps people. I believed  that, and I prayed, with the faith of a little child. God was supposed to listen; but year after year my father stood in his church, daring him to intervene. God never did a single thing. He never lifted one finger to help or comfort me" 

When a Christian woman in the group become offended by this, implying that she thought he wanted everyone to become atheists, this is what he said: 

I'm not saying that. I'm saying that we don't always get to believe what we want. Somehow we have to reconcile our desire to believe with the reality we have seen." 

A Major Victory for Children In Wisconsin

In 2012, a Wisconsin pastor named Phillip Camintini was sentenced to two years in prison to followed by 6 years of supervised release for conspiracy to commit child abuse. As pastor of Aleitheia Bible Church, he would tell his members to beat children as young as two months old with wooden spoons and rods.

As a part of the sentence, the judge also told him that he could not have contact with members of his church, and could not take a leadership role in any church.

He appealed his conviction, and this past week, Wisconsin's 4th district appeals court upheld his conviction, over his claims that it violated his rights to free speech and freedom of religion. Those arguments were rejected by the court, in their ruling, they said that the state "has a compelling interest in preventing child abuse".

If only prosecutors would go after these people too.....

Micheal and Debi Pearl:

Husband and wife team who have written horrendous books on child raising, and family issues.

Some quotes from their book, To Train Up A Child can be found here:

If you have to sit on him to spank him then do not hesitate. And hold him there until he is surrendered. Prove that you are bigger, tougher, more patiently enduring and are unmoved by his wailing. Defeat him totally. Accept no conditions for surrender. No compromise. You are to rule over him as a benevolent sovereign. Your word is final.

You can read more about them in my Exposing the IFB post on them.

Recovering Grace Founders Speak to Christian Radio Show About Bill Gothard

I regrettably hadn't kept up with the recent news about cult leader Bill Gothard, who was coming under fire because of revelations by the Christian watchdog group Recovering Grace that he had been sexually abusing teen girls for nearly 40 years.

I hadn't updated the blog about some of the recent developments, since my last post about him, Oak Brook College of Law, an institution that he founded, officially cut ties with him and his organizations, and most importantly, Gothard has resigned from the boards of IBLP and ATI, the cornerstones of his empire.

Recently, Recovering Grace founders Dr. John Cornish and Kari Underwood, both survivors of his cult spoke to "Issues Etc." a Christian radio show in the Midwest about their time in the cult, what they saw during their time there, recent developments regarding Gothard, and their work to expose the toxic teachings of his organizations Institute of Basic Life Principles, and Advanced Training Institute.

Why I'm Not Celebrating the Recent News About Fred Phelps

For those who haven't already heard, Fred Phelps of Westboro Baptist Church infamy is only months away from death, according to a public statement by his estranged son, Nate, Saturday night  on his public Facebook page. Nate left the family and their cult behind at 18, and became a gay rights activist in Canada.


 Here's is the statement in it's entirety:

I've learned that my father, Fred Phelps, Sr., pastor of the "God Hates Fags" Westboro Baptist Church, was ex-communicated from the "church" back in August of 2013. He is now on the edge of death at Midland Hospice house in Topeka, Kansas. 

I'm not sure how I feel about this. Terribly ironic that his devotion to his god ends this way. 

Destroyed by the monster he made. 

I feel sad for all the hurt he's caused so many. I feel sad for those who will lose the grandfather and father they loved. And I'm bitterly angry that my family is blocking the family members who left from seeing him, and saying their good-byes.

Famous atheist writer Hemant Mehta, best known as The Friendly Atheist, personally confirmed the details by phone with Nate himself. There's a lot more questions than answers right now, especially regarding why his own church excommunicated him, and it's lead me to question why.

I have noticed online that some people have been celebrating this news, saying that there should be protests at his funeral, as a kind of payback, and cheering the fact that a man who dedicated his life to hate is finally dying.

I can't join in on that kind of talk, I just don't feel that way. I have no sympathies whatsoever for Fred Phelps, but I'm mourning. 

(Nate Phelps)

Mourning for the lives he damaged, the family members of his who had to make the choice between remaining in this hateful cult, or still having contact with their own family.

I mourn that Nate, and his fellow relatives who grew up in this family will never know what it's like to have a normal childhood, but were instead used as pawns to feed the desire for publicity by an egomaniac, they weren't treated like loved sons, daughters, nieces/nephews or grandchildren, but as a means to an end, to build an empire for Fred Phelps.

It's sad that those who escaped, and tried to build a better life for themselves are not going to be allowed to mourn the passing of someone they have still loved in spite of it all (it may sound strange if you never grew up in a dysfunctional/abusive environment, but it's possible) with the rest of their family, or even be able to say their goodbyes at a proper funeral 

I mourn for the families of soldiers that not only had to face the grief of losing a young relative, but had to face vile hatred like this when they left the funeral home, the images will probably be in their minds for life:

This Week in Fundamentalism: Horrific New Rape Bill In Mozambique, Gun Giveaways and Blackface Skits in Kentucky

There's been so many things going on lately that just boggle the mind and leave you in a state of shock that have been going on in fundamentalism lately, and 2 of the 3 are happening right here in the US.

Kentucky church apologizes for Blackface skit:

An  Independent Fundamental Baptist church in Lexington, Kentucky, called Clays Mill Road Baptist church is apologizing for a humor skit at a youth conference where a church staffer put on black face paint, apparently trying to portray 70's actor Mr. T, while in a fake boxing match with a man playing Curly of the 1930's comedy The Three Stooges.

According to the Lexington Herald, their pastor claims he was unaware of the skit's content before until after the fact, and says the church staffer meant no harm by it, and didn't realize people would be offended.

It's hard to imagine that an adult in the American South would be ignorant of how people would be offended not only by skit itself, but how it's eerily reminiscent of the highly racist minstrel shows of the 1800's.


The IFB survivor's blog Stuff Fundies Like has a video of the offensive skit up right now, this picture of the church staffer should give you an idea how awful it was:

Paducah, Kentucky church brings in people with gun giveaways:

NPR recently had an article on a church using giveaways of donated guns to bring people to services. Participants must sit through the entire service, altar call included, in order to receive a free gun. Ironically enough, though the guns are free (after passing full background checks), the Bibles on display aren't free, they're for sale

The article quote Kentucky's executive director of the Southern Baptist Convention, who thinks this is a great way to bring in people to the church. Regardless of how you feel about guns, this does come across as rather bizarre, and a cheap gimmick. The irony of free guns, but Bibles for sale is also kind of hard to escape.

 

Horrific new sexual assault bill proposed in Mozambique:

An Emotion Filled Sunday

I had quite the experience this Sunday at my Unitarian church, it was great, but challenging at times. I had a panic attack for the first time in quite a while, and nothing seemed to trigger it, it was a slowly building light headed feeling combined with a feeling of impending doom that kept fading in and out as the service went on, it stopped shortly after, but I'm noticing signs even now as I'm typing of it trying to come back (chest pains).

I haven't had this happen in years, panic attacks I've had since my disastrous year at Southwest Baptist have been mild, infrequent, and usually had a trigger to them. None of those things applied today. It's making me worried that my anxiety issues are building a tolerance to the Cymbalta, I'm thinking I should talk to a psychiatrist.

It was though continuing stress was causing it, which is strange, because I've generally had a good outlook on life the last few weeks, there's been a lot of victories in life lately, I was approved for a loan on my house to do so much needed improvements (it hasn't been finalized yet), I've been establishing more who I really am, and soon I will have a new name.

In fact, during the services at this church, they have a tradition of letting people come up to the microphone to give "praises or sorrows". I used that time to announce to the church my name change, and I made a vague reference to my past/abusive family as one of the reasons for the change. I'm wondering if that triggered it, I felt fine at the time, but after that, it hit.

After the service was over, I started to recover slowly, I waited for several minutes to make sure I wouldn't pass out before standing up, and then went onto the potluck in their fellowship (yes, even uber liberal churches are Midwestern at heart).

The church has a tradition of using name tags during the service, and I was talking to the woman who coordinates that, as well as setting up the ushers for each service. She wanted to know if my name change was due to "transition".

My new name is somewhat gender neutral, and she was wondering because there are several trans people in the church. I thought it was funny, and it's a sign of why I love this congregation.

In fact, the gender neutral nature of the name is actually one of the reasons I picked it.