Once Upon a Time in My Oceania

This piece isn't a theology debate to try and change your mind on LGBTQ rights. It's not even necessarily a conversation starter on the issue. No, it's just a simple post on how sometimes love becomes stronger after years of hate. It's about choosing love when hate hurts your soul. This is just me sharing a bit of my heart with this post. If you asked those closest to me what is something I am passionate about, it's likely you would hear something along the lines of seeing the world through a more logical lense. The thing is they would also likely add doing this passionately...which is where my putting "logic" into practice can look more like diving head first in understanding something I will soon become passionate about. The thing is this process can very much be a gradual occurrence. Even years in the making. It was this pattern that becoming LGBTQ Affirming came about. First, I did not know whether I believed "homosexuality" was a...

My past faith was a hateful one, and, it taught me that to hate was not only sometimes necessary, it was holy. A holy hate could look like many things; in some cases, it was quite obvious, but other times, subtle. I know my experiences with the Independent Fundamental Baptist Church wasn't just an isolated experience. It is no big secret, at least among formers, that racism is alive and well in the movement. Whether it was the strict rules and bans on interracial dating, or the very limited leadership roles for people of color, covert racism was a constant undertone. Not always was the racism covert, however. Bob Jones University, among many other IFB colleges, had strict rules in regards to race and their students. Then, there was J. Frank Norris regarded as the Father of Fundamentalism and the founder of the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement. Norris had known connections to the Ku Klux Klan's top leader of that time in Texas, with the man receiving The Klan...

Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence I can't say I ever witnessed a happy marriage in my time in fundamentalism. Not one couple comes to mind over those twenty-one years where I feel were a relationship to look up to, to use as an example of what to look for in a future partner. The relationships I witnessed were often replicas of each other, with the power dynamics of each one appearing very much the same. The first thing I automatically think of is the fact men called the shots, even for their own wives. Very rarely (if ever) did I witness a woman making a decision without the greenlight by their husband. I knew wives who couldn't even go on a grocery run without their husband's permission. Every step had to be approved by their husband or else it was a step out of line. The inability to make decisions for themselves like where to go, what to wear, how to style their hair or how to apply their make-up are just a few examples. Women were admonished for simple things...

Me as a child. IFB was all I knew.                                   I didn't ask to be born into the world of Christian Fundamentalism and certainly if I had a say in the matter, I'd never choose the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement to be the only world I knew. Although those are not my regrets to bear because I was just a child, I still grieve the years that I feel were stolen from me by a choice not made of my own choosing. I often explain it like this...my parents, who were my introduction to that world, were converted but I was conditioned.  From birth, I was groomed for a life in that movement, taught that to leave could even mean the death of myself or someone I loved. I was never meant to leave, never meant to have a life outside of the IFB Church. I was to marry an IFB man and produce more third generation Independent Fundamental Baptists in my family. I was ...

Dear Friend, No, we haven't met, although there's a good chance that if you're reading this, we've lived very similar lives. That being said, I'm not going to pretend that, even with the similarities, I know what you have been through. I just want to say I see you. You, who are struggling, carrying the heavy burden of indecision, of fear, of the unknown. You, who feel miserable, wondering when that started and where that misery came from. I see you. You, who are tired, downtrodden, forcing your head to stay above water. Confused on why The Master of The Sea has even allowed you to start drowning in the first place. You, who feel guilty, ashamed and discouraged. Wondering, why you just can't be happy, serve your god, be a Christian. You, who past memories haunt, are relived every day. The wounds of abuse still feel so raw and you wonder when they'll ever start to scab over, scar. Heal. I see you. And I weep with you. Y...

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Silence and secrecy are often, in my opinion, the key ingredients in keeping any abusive system alive and operating. This also is part of the reason that when truths that shine a negative light do appear, people are not readily in a place to accept them as truth and real concerns are dismissed. Part of maintaining silence and secrecy may look different depending on the organization/group, but in general there are a few common ways of achieving the goal of abuses and wrongdoings remaining unknown, unchecked and hidden firmly beneath the rug they've been swept under and sometimes, expertly so.  In order to insure wrongdoings are kept silent is to start with an environment that doesn't look too keenly on "unnecessary" and unwanted accusations being prompted in the first place. Within this environment, and in my experience, the Independent Fundamental Baptists, leaders constantly preach how sinful it is to sow discord among fellow believers. With this in mind, vi...