I Forgive. I Hope. I Move Forward

Lord, be my center of gravity. I feel as though I am spinning out of orbit. Or perhaps I am just a broken vessel waiting for your blood to mend and I will always concede because you are the potter Lord and I am just the clay. A broken vase in your hands can become quite the masterpiece. 

I sit with You, yearn for You, glean from You, but there is much that my soul goes through. I don't know if I can take any more battering or beatings. 

September came like a tsunami after the storm of August hit. August came with so many challenges, even after posing to be promising.  

Then September hit, and I thought maybe things would start to turn around, but what I felt was constant dread and one bad situation birthing after another. There was no rest, no recuperation. Just work and work and more work.  

I was giving my all at work but still felt as though my efforts were in vain, as I realized just how strange my boss can be. I have never felt secure in my job, so I try my best not to rock the boat or do anything wrong.  

I have come to realize my liminality and the disregard she has for me, so I pretty much just do my job and keep to myself. She seems annoyed with me at times for no reason—like Sunday, when she called making demands and subtle accusations, even though the place she insisted I contact was closed.  

I try to be kind, but I am no longer nice because people trample on those who are nice. I am respectful. I complete tasks in record time, and I don't complain. I may forget a thing or two, but I do my best with follow-ups, and I try as hard as I can to follow through with every task I am given to do.  

Her partner seems to dislike me, and I am not sure what grouse he has with me. I have experienced cruelty and wondered what's the point of doing the right thing. It's almost as if she goes out of her way to misunderstand me.  

I had to confront a lot of things regarding what happened between me and the pastor of my church. I have forgiven him and had even given him an out, explaining his emotions and behavior for him, to him. Can you imagine that? I had moved on deciding to keep my distance. I was so angry about the aftermath—and still am, honestly—as I cry when I think about the fact that I never asked for such attention or affection and how it escalated putting me in a position that I never asked to be in.  

Then to have it insinuated that I and my children are the ones with the problem. That I am imagining things when surely I know when a man makes a pass at me and an intimate gesture and says things like: "When you don't come to church it affects me and I have to preach." I never expected someone like him to be so immature and emotionally stunted in dealing with the situation being ambiguous to tether me until I name it what it is and call you out on your crap.  What's stroking a woman's hand and face if not intimate. Then to make it look like I'm the one coming on to you when I never saw you that way or wanted you in any shape, form or situation. You were dear to me indeed much like a number of others who I couldn't leave church without hugging. 

Man of God—I scoff. I don't trust him now. I will never be able to listen to him preach. The thought that his ego might be bigger than his calling offends everything. I know I got jabbed at in his sermon because of the truth I gave him, because I made my boundaries clear and told him not to regard me with such affection in the name of support. 

People might think that I am protecting him, but I am protecting God's will, if God wants him exposed there's nothing I can do to stop it and maybe I'm a coward, maybe I don't want to confront this. I should have never been put in this position to begin with. I remember my children having their meeting about his behavior. The shift in the dynamics. His avoidance of me so loud that my 14 year old said "bro looked confused, didn't seem to know what to do with himself, it was so obvious that he was trying to avoid you. It was so loud, like he wanted you to know he was avoiding you." 

Though he may have blundered and might be a low-key narcissist, I am not one to question his purpose or place in the plan and kingdom of God.  

To think of the jabs he took at me in his sermons after what happened. To think that I respected and valued him.  

I thank God I knew God for myself, or I wouldn't have just left the church—I would have left the Faith altogether.  

Now I am at a crossroads because everyone is asking about my disappearance. I say the truth, but I leave out the name—though some might already suspect that he is at the head of this problem.  

I wish it were easy to navigate this, but it's not. I can't remember what the Word says about preachers and teachers, but I know this has really affected me.  

Want to know something even more crazy? He's a counsellor—not just a pastor, but a therapist.  

I beg, why me? Why mishandle me this way, eh!

I have decided to forgive him. To wipe the slate clean like it never happened. I just don't know if I can return--that's still the most challenging part for someone like me, someone already slain by betrayal, someone still healing from years of trauma and abuse, someone with complex PTSD.

I won't spin out of orbit, I will let God anchor me deeper, in him.

emotional exhaustion, workplace abuse, liminality, survival, misunderstood, leadership, betrayal, pastoral misconduct, protecting God's will, faith, ego, boundaries, church hurt, clarity, therapist turned violator, resilience, spiritual abuse