Wednesday, February 22, 2006

My Dealings

Here is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with the Oneness Pentecostal church that lives down the street from me.

The first year I lived here in my hometown this 14-year old girl called "Cindy" came by for fundraising, and I sponsored her through her church. The next year she came back, and I felt everything slow down in my mind so that I felt it was really important to ask her, "What does your church believe?"

I proceeded to ask, when she started sharing some scriptures she knew, if she believed she had to do what was right to go to heaven, and if Jesus was God. She eventually denied both, but said she believed salvation was of the Father. She said she did not believe in the Trinity, but she did believe Jesus was the Son of God. I was very impressed by her knowledge of scriptures, and I praised her highly for it. She invited me to come to her church.

She said, "You are so nice! I want my brother to come over and meet you, because he knows the scriptures better than I do and he can answer your questions."

I started attending Wednesday night services at the same time she would bring her older brothers over to meet me at my house. They were around the age of 18-20. At the church the mother of Cindy had me sit next to her and told me all kinds of things that were going on in her life. She was very, very loving.

Their service WAS quite different, although much like The People's Church (assemblies of God) where I once attended of my own accord. The worship music was the loudest I had ever known. It was so loud that it almost hurt my ears. All of the women wore nice dresses. They also all had hairdos that I am sure they spent a long time to create--they looked like dos to have for a prom date! All of the men were in suits. They spoke in tongues, and I think each one of them were truly trying to be as loud and emotional in their utterances as possible, because of their beliefs....

I tried to remain inconspicuous, amongst fifty people (yeah right). More than that I tried not to be shocked, but to be gracious as I noticed all these things and how I didn't fit in. I remember relying very much on constant prayer the whole time I was in the service, not because I knew they were different than me but because I NEEDED IT -- I needed God to reassure me that my fellowship with God was not harmed because of these obstacles that I didn't do as they did. They did an altar call after I made a regular habit of coming. I felt like all eyes were on me (another words, you have sins to repent for, and isn't it time you confessed them and made yourself right?) But I prayed hard to God confirming that I could confess my sins wherever I was at, and confess sins I did, but not the ones they wanted me to, most likely.

I would sometimes bring my daughters, and as the women introduced themselves to me I started speaking to their children and the children loved it. They were so eager for attention and I remember how every week they would crowd around me as we talked about my baby and their own siblings.

I would see Cindy's mom walking to or from church (she lived sort of near the church) and it was amazing how I was able to give her a lift a few times.

I asked to meet with the Pastor and his wife, so that I could learn what they believed. He came over several times to my house, and he would even bring his children, and I regret that I was not more gracious with him, for I was at least in part eager to get him to see my point of view.

To the material he gave me I wrote up my own doctrinal responses, and dropped them by the church. Within a couple of weeks of each of my drop-offs, his sermon on Wednesday evening would be centered around refuting the material I brought. I was both honored and injured.

I asked for a more committed bible study. I played phone tag with two women for several months, mostly because of their neglect and disinterest. It never came about. One of those women got married in the midst of these months, and I bought a beautiful present and left it at the church for her. But falling out of touch was just the direction everything was headed.

It actually took me about a year for me to realize that it was not my own choices of redirection of interests that caused this relationship to end. I finally realized that there had to be a good reason why Cindy or her brothers didn't come by anymore; after all, children don't get cynical or grow unaffectionate with time, but usually grow.

Maybe a year after I stopped attending one of the brothers came by to sell something, and I didn't recognize him but was strangely prompted to ask, "Is everything ok with you today?" He said, not really, because his family had lost faith in him, and his church had kind of shut him out, even, because of the choices to sin. He was under a lot of pressure to get his life back on the right track.

I said to him, "you know the parable of the prodigal son? I don't know how people are reacting to you but I believe from my own experiences that God is more eager to forgive you more than anyone else. Remember how he lavished his praise on the son when he returned from the wrong path? Well, even if you don't get that from anyone else around you, I want to encourage you that as far as the Lord is concerned, he accepts you as you are because you are ready to give your life back to him. His love is right there waiting for you in prayer."

He was listening intently, and as far as I could tell his hopes were lifted. He smiled, and said that he knew he could do it. Then, like a switch, he didn't want to talk to me anymore and said he had to go.

It's been two years since I attended their church. Since then I have seen very, very little of any of them. I saw my two bible study women in Albertsons, and I had to be the initiator to say "how are you?" They were very cold to me, and didn't speak anything except the questions I asked. I also saw Cindy's mom at Walmart quite recently, and she was not cold but she also didn't speak to me any longer than I inquired.

It hurts me more and more to think of these things, not because I expect to be treated well, but because I long to be with them again, to learn more about them, to just keep SERVING them, most of all. I want them to be loved. But I won't go and seek them out again, unless the Lord prompts. I am waiting for a God-given ministry.

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