Post by calluna on Feb 18, 2010 12:49:29 GMT -5
Hello everyone,
My name is "Erica". (withholding real name for privacy reasons)
OK, let me start my intro, and try to make it quick.
I grew up in a great home. My parents truly loved me and wanted the best for me. I was the youngest of three. My sister and brother are 8 and 11 years older than I am.
My mother began to homeschool me in 2nd grade when *I* asked to be because my best friend was also going.
My mother was very reluctant to homeschool me. I actually asked her to keep me home and have her teach me when I was going to kindergarten.
I hated public school. From the first day, there I was made to feel stupid and like a dunce.
My teachers didn't even teach me my vowels. I struggled and struggled not even knowing what they were talking about. Finally I asked my mother what they were.
We sat on our front porch and I learned them in about 10 minutes. After weeks of agony of not knowing what "vowels" were.
Same with counting up to 100. I don't remember my teachers teaching us that. Every day, we would stand in line and trying to count to 100. I would get all the way up to 99 and get stumped. No joke.
My teacher didn't tell me. I just said, "I don't know", and I'd have to go sit down.
Then one day I was standing behind a boy, and after 99 he said, "100". I was floored!
So needless to say, public school didn't really help me out.
A little boy in my glass that had ADD, he was made to feel even more stupid. His mother pulled him out.
He happened to be the brother of a little girl that I rode horses with, and my mom and his mom would talk about homeschooling.
So when my best friend was pulled and I asked mom to homeschool me, she did it!
I loved it. My mother read to hours upon hours after schooling. When the neighors got home, I would go outside and play with them.
Life really didn't change much for me.
Then mom started reading "lifestyle" stuff. The first thing to go was Halloween.
But I didn't mind. The public school kids next door didn't do halloween either. So I didn't think it was too weird.
My mom bought me Halloween candy, and we went to see the Movie "The Bear".
Sure I missed dressing up. But as the years went by, I found out that my mom wasn't totally legalistic about it.
I was allowed to participate in Costume contests as long as they weren't blood and gore (I was a prissy girl anyway, that type of thing grossed me out)
My dad worked from home starting around nine years old, so he was around. We did all kinds of fun things. We went camping and traveled.
I went to Washingtion State on one of my Dad's business trips. Camping to Williamsburg, and we had camping lot in the mountains of Georgia.
My life was happy. My brother was a bit out of control. He went to public school, and kids would make fun of him. His teachers in his younger years called him stupid. He never let that go.
He had a learning disability, but we weren't sure what it was. But by the time homeschooling was legalized, he was too old to be intrested in it.
He started to hang out with kids that were a bad influence on him. He would get caught speeding up to 100 on two lane winding roads.
When he graduated he moved to FL to be a beach bumb. And there he met a woman that used and abused him. He truley cared for her. But she didn't. She made him sucidial. So mom and dad committed him to a physc ward, and he became extrememly bitter to my parents.
When he got out of the physc ward, that girl decided she wanted my brother and then he got her pregnant. My parents supported him in every way, but he was always extremely angry with my parents even though they apologized profusely to him for committing him to that physc ward.
When I saw all of this happening at nine years old, I decided I was *NOT* going to be like my brother. I saw how my mom and dad cried for him. How my mom got migrains and stressed out over him and worried for his life. Between him speeding at excessive speeds and this woman that just loved to tare his heart out and stomp on it for the fun of it (yeah, I am not exagerating)
So my brother blames my parents for all his troubles. Even though my parents "let him go" at 18 years old to do his thing. And even when he made the mistakes they loved him, accepted him and supported him emotional the "BEST THAT THEY KNEW HOW TO" And when they made mistakes they apologized to their son.
To this day, (And he is almost 40 years old) He still blames them for everything wrong that happened in his life. He won't take responsibility for his own life...he's got to blame *something*. He is an "old" man at only 40 years old (He looks like he's 60) He has werid health problems, and he gets "mental" at times. Thinking he is "shrinking" or that someone is after him, or whatnot.
So that background was giving because I saw all of this starting around nine years of age, (He was 20) and I saw from an objective view point that, that is *NOT* the life that I wanted.
My mother continued to homeschool me, and around the age of 10 she was getting more "Christian life" materials listening to them, and thinking that is where she "failed" with my brother. She didn't do it like these other "more godly" people taught.
Like "Dare to Shelter" and the Mennonites, Chairty people (Denny Kennaston), etc.
My mother NEVER forced these ideals on me. She introduced them to me, but never forced them on me. But they made logical sense to me, and I saw how my brother's life was being ruined by his foolish choices. (And his life is still pretty ruined)
One day we went to visit my grandmother in N.J. and she said it would be fun to go to Lancaster PA and see the Amish. I was a dye hard "Little House" fan and it intreged me that there were people who still lived like this. I didn't know they did it for religious reasons.
When we got there, and I saw a the ladies with the headcoverings on, I realized that Laura and her mom only wore bonnets outside. But not ALL THE TIME. So I asked my mom why they did that. She said, "Because the Bible said so in I Corinthains 11"
When I got home I began to read the Bible. Why didn't we wear these coverings if it was in the Bible? Then I read more about the Amish, and all these things they did "because the Bible says" and I wanted to be Amish.
My parents were born again, but we didn't do ANY of the things that the Amish did.
About this time, I began to get the girl magazines, "HopeChest" and "The Kingsdaughter"
I read about these girls lives and was jealous. Why weren't we like them?
They seemed to know a lot more and had something that I didn't. They had lots of siblings. I had ALWAYS wanted another brother or sister, but my mom had me later in life, and dad didn't want anymore and got snipped.
Mom told me this. I was so sad.
None of these girls magazine talked about the issue of "quiverfull" but now that I look back on it, most of these girls had quiverfull parents.
As I studied the Amish more, read these magazines, I started to adopt these ideas. I wanted to be a "real Christian". At this time my parents were not going to church. They left a "liberal" non-denominational church and were in search of another one, but couldn't seem to find one.
We finally tried out an Independant Fundamental Baptist Church down the road. It was *ALMOST* everything my little legalistic heart desired.
We continued to go. It was there that I began to fear I wasn't saved when I was five years old at the neighorhood vacation bible school, when I prayed the sinners prayer.
It was after a hell and fire, rip roaring, hell and fire brimstone, "revival", that I became "convicted.
So I got saved again. And since I was really saved, I began to wear only dresses, let my hair grow out, etc.
I asked my mom to buy the Rod and Staff fictional books for teens and that is what "fed" me. I tried to wear a covering but my dad wouldn't let me do so in public. I felt that he was hindering me in my walk with Christ. But I obeyed him anyway.
I stopped listening to CCM. I tried my best to obey my father in everyway I could. I listened to Jonathon Lindvall's tapes for men, *WISHING* my father would be like he was.
Stupid me, I used to berate my dad all the time, telling him he wasn't a good enough Christian.
My mom tried to tone me down a bit, but I was in full fledge teenage years. I felt she should be greateful I wasn't running around getting into trouble like my brother was.
But during all of this I kept doubting my salvation. And I kept making professions of faith.
I went to an IFB Bible college. The first semester I was in love. People "LIKE ME"!! LOL!
I went gung ho on fire for the Lord. I went witnessing every opportunity I could. But even there, I realized not everyone held my convictions. Some of them were "fake" and were only there because their parents made them be there. Some of them wanted to be there, but didn't believe exactly like the college or the church.
It was there that I met my husband. He came from a more "liberal" background than I had. And we didn't even hit it off, very well at first because he was a computer geek, and he talked about motherboards, and modums, and etther cables, and I had NO IDEA what he was talking about! ;D
But eventually we started to like one another. DH, asked my dad's permission to "date" me. (I didn't believe in dating, after reading Joshua Harris' "I Kissed Dating Goodbye") Dad asked me, "what should I tell him?" I told my dad that he needed to have a talk with this guy about his life goals, what his long term intentions were with me, and that I won't date him, but if he want's to court me, I am open to the idea"
My mom and dad sat him in the living room for about four hours and talked with him. They liked him!
So we began our courtship. We were more "strict" than even Josh and Anna Duggar. We didn't hold hands. (But we did invent what we called the pillow hug. We put pillows between us to hug. And held hands with a blanket between our hands. I know pretty
LOL!
So a year and half after we began our courtship we were married. Our first kiss ever. Even though he had had about three girlfriends before me, amazingly he never kissed them.
And I could tell by how we were both inexperienced about the whole matter.
The year and half before we were married I went through another rough bout of "salvation doubts". I was trying the best I knew how to live for the Lord, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I may not be saved truly. I would get depressed and have panic attacks.
DH was kind to me, and was sympathetic, and tried to help me as best as he could. I tried to push these doubts away, but they wouldn't cease.
After three months of marriage we found out we were expecting.
I was so excited. I planned on a home birth. I found a Christian midwife (who wasn't exactly like the "quiverfull midwife" she was more hippiesh. She had just became a Christian about two years before we met her. So she had some "crazy" ideas theologically according to us. But she was sweet and she loved her job)
Three months into my pregnancy DH thinks he wants to be a missionary to Russia. I was so excited. Here was a chance to Truly serve the Lord instead of just being "ho hum" Christians. So back to Bible College we went. To finish up our remaining credits and begin deputation.
Our Bible College was one hour and a half away from where we were living.
I really struggled with the thought of giving up our little house, and all the stuff in it and moving to Russia. But I committed everything to the Lord.
We moved into a dorm that had no air conditioning in it. One room. And I was about four months pregnant. And this was in Florida.
During the winter months it wasn't to bad. But it was bad enough.
I had no kitchen.
I would go back to my parents house for midwifery appointments. It was my goal to finish college in mid-may (due date was June 1st) and then move in with our parents to have the baby at their house.
Again, still doubting horribly about my salvation. Even made *another public profession* of faith.
By this time DH wasn't being very tolerant of my doubts. He got exasperated and said, "You have done everything you know what to do to be saved, and if you make another profession, you're just going to make another one!"
But something was different about this "doubt" I couldn't shake it like I had with the others. For about two weeks I was in extreme stress. Not wanting to eat, but forcing myself to. Wanting to dye but not wanting to.
Begging God ALL night trying to pray through and get saved. After about eight hours of praying I came to the conclusion that I had sinned away my chance of being saved. I had faked it to long, and there was no chance left for me. I was going to hell.
When DH got back that night, I told him I was going to Hell in hysteraics. He wasn't impressed with me, and started to yell at me to be quiet.
I can't remember what happened after that.
About two weeks later, a man came through our chapel and preached about how he had doubted his salvation throughout almost his whole Christian life.
I perked up. He was preaching things I had NEVER heard before in my years as an IFB. *WHAT* was he saying??
I went to talk to him after the message, and he showed me in the Bible how the IFB's (remember he was preaching in an IFB Bible College) make salvation into a work!
What he said made perfect simple sense! (He showed me TONS of verses in Hebrews and Romans and Galatians) He didn't force me to make a decision or pray a sinner's prayer. He said, "Think about it, and I'll be praying for you"
Well, I did think about it. I couldn't STOP thinking about it. I went up to my room thinking about it, layed down to try to nap so I could process it later.
But I couldn't. And then it dawned upon me. Jesus finished it all! There was nothing left *to do*. God was satasified with Jesus' payment for my sin, why wasn't I? Yeah, why wasn't I? SO I said, "God, your satisifed, so am I!"
Just then a sweet still peace came over my soul, and I began to cry for joy. Something that had NEVER happened with all of my professions. All I could do was shout, "I am free! I am free! I am free!" I jumpped and danced, and shouted hallalugiah. I KNEW that Jesus blood was good enough, and was good enough for "stupid" ol' me.
DH got home, and I was so excited. I told him with Joy, and he's like, "That's what I have been trying to tell you all along". Well if that's what he was saying, it didn't come across that way at all.
I had talked to A LOT of people before that preacher, and they all said, "Pray and ask Jesus to save you and mean it with your heart"
They never explained what Jesus accomplished on the cross for me.
After that, I started to see some amazing things.
First of all I was about five almost six months pregnant now. Living on the third floor. The laundry room was four floors down in the basement of this college. I had a HUGE large laundry hamper, and couldn't carry it down by myself.
We and two other couples were the only people living on our floor and I was the only on up there, as everyone else was at work.
I NEEDED to get the laundry done, or DH wasn't going to have clean underware. And I needed to do it in the afternoon when everyone was at work, otherwise, all the washers would be full with the single girls clothing.
So I prayed that God would send someone to help me carry it down.
I sccoched out the door, no one was there. I turned to lock my door, and then prayed for strength to pick up the laundry basket. As I was picking it up, some guy from almost out of no where said, "Don't pick that up! I'll get it for you!"
Another time, was it was getting extremely hot in my room (towards the end of the semester in Summer time) and I prayed that one of the falcuty members that lived on campus would let me stay in thier home during working hours and the hottest part of the afternoon.
I waited in the College bookstore hoping someone to take pity on me. No one did.
I went up to my room and started to cry. Then the thought came to my mind to give thanks in "everything" So I did. I thanked the Lord that at least my room had a shower. Because I took a cold shower to cool off.
I thanked the Lord that there was electricity in my room for a rotating fan that I could stand in front of.
A few days later, a falcuty memeber asked me if I would like to stay in a room with air-conditioning. A *DIRECT* answer to prayer. And was better because I could stay in it all day and all night.
I was very thankful.
So I graduated. Went home to have my baby. I was a week overdue, so midwife gave me some herbs to induce labor. My labor started the next day.
But I didn't progress and I was having horrible backlabor after being in labor for 24 hours.
Midwife said we could transfer to the hospital to get an epidural. My husband said, "I think she can do it here". Midwife gave him a glaring look and said, "I don't think she can. I think it's best that we transfer"
So we transfered.
I had an awesome hopspital experience, and the doctor that devlivered my baby was the doctor that trained my midwife. They had a good working relationship.
He kept me from getting a C-section because he didn't rupture my water. He let my water break on it's own. So even though I was in labor for over 24 hours, I was still allowed to have a vaginal birth.
So we went home, My DH found us an apartment to live in instead of the girls dorm, and we went back to chruch of our Bible College.
DH was having second thoughts on being a missionary.
I was fat. I had gained a horendous ammount of weight. I was afraid of getting pregnant again and being fat. I started an extremem diet to loose my weight. I weaned my baby, and I tracked my cycles so I could loose my weight.
Around this time I found the Maxwell's forum (Mangers of their Home) and the quiverfull email group.
I thought I was "quiverfull" by not using birth control. But these people took it to an extreme level. Not even regulating their cycles.
I started to have questions when these ladies would ask a question about quiverfull
I remember on the Maxwell's board that one woman said she has horrible back pain during pregnancy. To the point she has to stay in bed, and her husband worked late hours and he couldn't take care of her when she was on bed rest. And there was no family around.
Did the quiverfull priciple apply even then? I remember Terri Maxwell said, "We would encourage you to trust the Lord no matter the outcome"
That was somthing that made me go "hmmmm"
My biggest concern was being obese and having babies all the time. I noticed a lot of these women were obese. That couldn't be healthy for the baby either right?
But I shoved it out of my mind.
I got pregnant with our second one when our oldest was 11 months old.
When I gave birth to her (A sucessful, very peaceful homebirth with the same midwife that had transfered me) my midwife said that my pelvic floor muscels were very weak and I needed to kegal kegal kegal!!
I tried to. I bought the Kegal master but wasn't very faithful with it.
I was a healthy weight when I got pregnant with #2 and ate healthy during the whole pregnancy, and lost almost ALL of the baby weight as soon as she was born. I only had about five pounds to loose to get back to pre baby weight.
After baby # two was born, I was beginning to have doubts about salvation again. But they weren't as big as they were before. Before they were more of, "Did that guy tell me the truth? Because what he told me I am *NOT* hearing at church"
So I began to do an internet search, and found a IFB church that REALLY messed me up. They were almost Catholic in their presentation of salvation.
It got worse and worse. They were twisting scriptures, but it was hard to tell because I was still so young, (23) and still very young in my faith.
Through all of that garbage, I began to search for the truth. And it wasn't fun at times. I began to get depressed again. Panic attacks again.
I didn't know what was up or down, or around. I was so confused.
I asked people TONS of questions, each one giving a different answer. Someone told me NOT to go on anti-depressents because that wasn't trusting God.
Another person in the SAME church told me to go on them, there was nothing wrong with them.
I was so frightened so scared. I didn't know what to do.
We moved to another city, went to a different church, and I got pregnant with #3. I cried and had a fit. I wasn't ready for another baby. I was a depressed misfit, and I couldn't handle it.
(So I thought)
To make a long story short. After I had #3 my pelvic floor muscles gave way, and something protruded down in my vaginal canal. I later learned it was part of my intestines.
My husband talked with our pastor about me. He strongly advised my husband to give me a break. Because of the dperession and the health problem. Thankfully my husband listened.
My midwife told me that it takes the body two years between births to completely heal, and that I had done a number on my body. She also told me to take a rest.
So four years later I am still dealing with this issue.
But that was the deciding factor that didn't make me "truly quiverfull"
Ironically it was after I read Created to Be His Helpmeet that I found out how flawed the quiverfull movment was. That book despite it's encouraging women to stay in an abusive relationship really opened my eyes up to the silliness that goes on in "Christianity"
Even the woman dresses only (which the Maxwells were very adament about!)
My depression escalated and I felt sucidial but not wanting to do so, for fear of hell. But I was very close to running away from home because my children deserved better.
I want to interject something here. My salvation doubts were "extreme" to the point I did NOTHING but cry about my sould all day long. My husband's patience was wearing thin. Very thin, and he said some very hurtful things to me. Very hurtful.
It made me feel devalued as a woman, wife and mother. Which is why I wanted to run away.
When I got to that point, I ditched my fears of anti-depressants, and made an appointment with a physctrist. An awesome one that didn't sit in judgment on me. Very compassionate and concerned about my well-being. I thrived on the first pills I took. THRIVED on them.
On them, my mind was clear enough to be objective about everything I subjectived to myself.
I went to a Bible study for a year and half. I was basically the only one in the study. That lady is now like my mother. She NEVER put me down.
She showed me my flawed views of God. And to my complete shock and amazment, what she was teaching me was the SAME thing that that, preacher told me in Bible College. And that the IFB churches I was going to was teaching a works salvation.
I also met a few women to who showed me who I was in Christ, even though I did things that didn't please men. Men would manipulate me and say that it wasn't pleasing to God.
But these women explained, that when I became a Christian, my old man died completely. And what I do now, depsite my mistakes Jesus still loves me. And he *WILL* say "Well done my good and faithful servent" Not because I tried my darndest to be the best Christian. But because Christ is in me. God is saying that because of Christ. Not because I did everything right in this world.
So my security isn't in man, or man made doctrines anymore. I could give a filp about what someone thinks anymore. And I don't subject myself to teaching that would make me feel guilty.
Many times, I hear mom saying "go with your instincts". Well, My instincts aren't very well developed because I had so much poo poo adminstered to my brain.
So instead I take it directly to the Lord and HE gives me the wisdom I need. And he is always spot on.
Be it the smallest of issues, to the biggest of issues. I don't even look in the Bible.
For instance, My dog ate dark choclate, and I had a dog when I was a teenager that did the same thing, and she almost died.
I was panicing, and wasn't thinking clearly "AT ALL" In a desperate cry, I said, "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?" And "Activated Charcoal" came directly to my mind. I ran and looked it up on the internet, and that is *exactly* what is reccomended for choclate poisening for dogs. I couldn't believe how detailed the Lord was!
So obviously if anyone is still reading I am still a Christian. I know that many of you are not.
I can't answer for you and what makes you think that.
But what I found that anything that claims to be "good stuff" I have found to be legalism.
I almost didn't get saved because of the legalism. The whole quiverfull, dresses only, seperation from the world, and sheltering mentality made me focus on my good deeds. And I didn't see my need for Christ.
It was that day in my dorm, when I prayed for eight hours straight that I saw that my prayers and sincerity wasn't impressing God in the lest bit. And after that point there was nothing I could do to get his attention. I had failed.
When I came to that point and someone shared that Jesus had done it ALL for me, and there nothing for me to do at all, but trust that Jesus had done it all. I ate it up. And I was freed. But I was still in the stinky legalistic enviroment. And I am still coming out of it.
It took the meds for me to get brave to start rejecting it all, and start living off of Jesus. Not my church, not the newest Christian book. Not some Christian guru that everyone admires.
My marriage is slowly changing as I am finding worth of who I am in Christ. I still submit to my husband, but it's more of a "respect" thing, than an unquestionable no matter what kind of thing.
I get sassy with him, and keep him on his toes.
A few of those ladies explained it to me this way. When we submit to our husband in every little thing without question or discussion, they began to take advantage of us. They begin to see us as "weak" and easy to walk all over.
While their intentions are't meant to walk all over us at first, if we give them the opportunity to walk all over us, they have no other choice.
Men like a challange most times. If we submit without a challenge they are bored. So they have to make a challange and thus make it worse on us.
At first I thought this was craziness! I was taught to submit no matter what, or how silly or how little. But one day, DH and I were watching Pride and Predjuice. And he said that Mr. Darcy liked Lizzy because he challanged her, and she wasn't a doormat and let him walk all over her.
I was SHOCKED!!! I never told my DH that this is what these women were advising me to do. I took this as confirmation from the Lord that these women were giving me wise advice, LOL! 
Sooo...all of that background info to say this.
My marriage has experienced up and downs. Most of it was due to my manipulation to my husband. It was MY idea to do the no hand holding. It was MY idea to do dresses only, quiverfull only.
My husband has done stuff that would be considered abusive to me. But instead of me blaming it all on him, I am going to take responsibility for it. I don't have to let him abuse me. I was setting myself up for the abuse.
Now let me be clear. I KNOW that many women don't set themselves up for the abuse. But in my case. I was. I was submitting to every little whim of his, and he had no challange. He was bored.
But if I give him the unexpected, I have that "woman mystery" about me again that attracted me to him in the first place.
I no longer cry to manipulate him (sometimes I do if I am just darn tired) But instead I sass at him, and don't take his crap, LOL! Usually he just walks away.
Sure he has a long way to go. SO DO I!
I could look back on my life, and blame all my depression and sucidal tendcies on alot of crap that I went through.
But the thing is life deals out crap no matter what background you are from. It is our job to mature from it.
I could blame my parents for putting so much time and attention into my brother and his problems, and not saying anything to get me out of the cultish mindframe I was in.
But would it of done any good? I mean I probably would of rebelled even more.
My mother has been through the worst of crap with me. She always supported me. She always loved me.
And my poor dad, LOL! He was pushed around by all these self-righteouss legalistic women. And he endured abuse from me his daughter telling him that basically he was a crappy dad, because he wasn't like these dads were supposed to be.
My dad is a good man. So full of compassion and forgivness. And I was so disrepsectful to him, and he took it like a gentleman.
My point is. I was spiritually abused. I have every reason to get upset and get bitter about it. I have every reason to complain about what my parents did wrong.
But that was *then* this is *NOW*. We need to use our past to work through what mistakes were made. And after that, we need to use it to shape our future for the *BETTER*.
We need to get the help we need to (counseling, thearpy, medication, etc) to move past all this junk. Talking out it is good.
By my fear is, after reading these testimonies and listening to how upset you ladies still are, is that there is going to something else bad that happens in your life, and you may blame it on that.
(Please don't think I am diminishing your experience. I went through it too.)
Like my brother. He is 40 years old. He refuses to learn to let go of the past. He holds onto stubbornly. He WANTs to hold onto. He wants to hash and rehash how stupid he is. How his wife left him, etc. etc.
No one wants to be around him. Because that is all he talks about. He has no other hobbies. No other reason to live but to just bad mouth his ex-wife, and tell everyone how bad his life sucks.
Now finally, after almost 12 years of being divorced he got himself a girlfriend and is maybe starting to move ahead with his life. But he still is angry and bitter, and an old sick man because of it.
This is kind of baffleing to me. (Reading your testimonies) How you blame all these bad things that happened to you on how bad your life is now.
If you weren't involved in the quiverfull movment, there would of been *something* else. Believe me
My mother was adopted. She went to find her real mother. Her real mother and father were married, but her father didn't want her, so her mom gave her up for adoption. How do you think that made her feel? Unwanted I am sure!
He adoptive parents loved her and took care of her, and were the best parents they could be. But they made mistakes.
My mom was a wild girl. She went to Catholic School. She was made to by her devout Catholic father.
Catholicsm can be just as distructive as the type of enviroment we came out of.
My mother could of blamed ALL this crap on her biological parents, her adoptive parents, etc.
Then my mom married young, and her first husband died a week after she was married. How tragic is that?
And then she married my father, who was in the Navy, and left her for two years alone, and her mother in law hardly visited her, even though she lived 10 minutes away.
My mom could of blamed all that crap on a sucky life. But she "bloomed where she was planted" for a dumb cliche' but sort of wise I think.
My mom was raised by a Catholic Father, and an agnositic mother. She still had emotional problems.
There are just so many things that shape us in our life. Be it religion, lost loves, lost family members, adoption, people who rejected us for the dumbest of reasons.
I don't know. I just get an uneasy feeling. The quiverfull movement is a boatload of crap. But there are MANY more people out there who suffer and it has nothing to do with religion.
I guess my question is, (out of curoisty) when those of you who are agnostic or athesitic, and raise your children to be independent thinkers, (Which I believe is an awesome thing, so don't not do that!) and they have emotional problems due to other various issues, and you can't blame the quiverfull movment, what are you going to do about that?
I ask this in a real sincere manner. I can understand why you would want to give up on Christianity. Believe me. I wanted to as well a few times.
But I was talking to my mother about this yesterday. And she said, "I am going to tell you what my mother told me. (Remember her mother was agnostic) "Right or Wrong, I did my best, because I love you"
We are all going to make mistakes. We can't sit on an issue and stay there and dwell in it's ucky experiences and come out a better person.
We can raise awareness. We can encourage people to not go in the same direction. We can use the crap for good. But to stay in the crap through our reliving it in our mind, what good does that do?
Like I read one girl on here, that her father made her rub her feet. I am a bit perplexed about that one. Really. I mean there are other issues that are more abusive. Sure it would be gross. A bit weird. I wouldn't want to do it.
But I could point out things in my mother and father's life that I could be bitter about.
My parents made me sleep in a dining room. They put my bed in there. But still. I hated it. I had no privacy, and since it was next to the kitchen, when I went to bed, I would be awakened.
And then we moved. I had my own room for a while It was pink too.
Then when my brother got his girlfriend pregnant, they gave my room to them, and I had to sleep in another room that had no privacy. I didn't like it either.
I could dwell on it. And I could pick out all kinds of poopie things that made me sad, and blame it on them. But really, would that be fair. "Right or Wrong they did their best". I can look back on all the good things instead and dwell on them.
Now I know alot of you endured more crap than I ever did. And I am not sitting on judgment. I am just perplexed.
I am a mother myself now. I am re-evaluating a lot of what I thought was "good parenting" and seeing it wasn't. (Like newborn schedules)
I don't want to ruin my children emotionally. But I realize that MANY MANY parents that do the best that they absolutely can, their children end up hating them anyway.
Forgive me for all the typos and misspellings.
My name is "Erica". (withholding real name for privacy reasons)
OK, let me start my intro, and try to make it quick.
I grew up in a great home. My parents truly loved me and wanted the best for me. I was the youngest of three. My sister and brother are 8 and 11 years older than I am.
My mother began to homeschool me in 2nd grade when *I* asked to be because my best friend was also going.
My mother was very reluctant to homeschool me. I actually asked her to keep me home and have her teach me when I was going to kindergarten.
I hated public school. From the first day, there I was made to feel stupid and like a dunce.
My teachers didn't even teach me my vowels. I struggled and struggled not even knowing what they were talking about. Finally I asked my mother what they were.
We sat on our front porch and I learned them in about 10 minutes. After weeks of agony of not knowing what "vowels" were.
Same with counting up to 100. I don't remember my teachers teaching us that. Every day, we would stand in line and trying to count to 100. I would get all the way up to 99 and get stumped. No joke.
My teacher didn't tell me. I just said, "I don't know", and I'd have to go sit down.
Then one day I was standing behind a boy, and after 99 he said, "100". I was floored!
So needless to say, public school didn't really help me out.
A little boy in my glass that had ADD, he was made to feel even more stupid. His mother pulled him out.
He happened to be the brother of a little girl that I rode horses with, and my mom and his mom would talk about homeschooling.
So when my best friend was pulled and I asked mom to homeschool me, she did it!
I loved it. My mother read to hours upon hours after schooling. When the neighors got home, I would go outside and play with them.
Life really didn't change much for me.
Then mom started reading "lifestyle" stuff. The first thing to go was Halloween.
But I didn't mind. The public school kids next door didn't do halloween either. So I didn't think it was too weird.
My mom bought me Halloween candy, and we went to see the Movie "The Bear".
Sure I missed dressing up. But as the years went by, I found out that my mom wasn't totally legalistic about it.
I was allowed to participate in Costume contests as long as they weren't blood and gore (I was a prissy girl anyway, that type of thing grossed me out)
My dad worked from home starting around nine years old, so he was around. We did all kinds of fun things. We went camping and traveled.
I went to Washingtion State on one of my Dad's business trips. Camping to Williamsburg, and we had camping lot in the mountains of Georgia.
My life was happy. My brother was a bit out of control. He went to public school, and kids would make fun of him. His teachers in his younger years called him stupid. He never let that go.
He had a learning disability, but we weren't sure what it was. But by the time homeschooling was legalized, he was too old to be intrested in it.
He started to hang out with kids that were a bad influence on him. He would get caught speeding up to 100 on two lane winding roads.
When he graduated he moved to FL to be a beach bumb. And there he met a woman that used and abused him. He truley cared for her. But she didn't. She made him sucidial. So mom and dad committed him to a physc ward, and he became extrememly bitter to my parents.
When he got out of the physc ward, that girl decided she wanted my brother and then he got her pregnant. My parents supported him in every way, but he was always extremely angry with my parents even though they apologized profusely to him for committing him to that physc ward.
When I saw all of this happening at nine years old, I decided I was *NOT* going to be like my brother. I saw how my mom and dad cried for him. How my mom got migrains and stressed out over him and worried for his life. Between him speeding at excessive speeds and this woman that just loved to tare his heart out and stomp on it for the fun of it (yeah, I am not exagerating)
So my brother blames my parents for all his troubles. Even though my parents "let him go" at 18 years old to do his thing. And even when he made the mistakes they loved him, accepted him and supported him emotional the "BEST THAT THEY KNEW HOW TO" And when they made mistakes they apologized to their son.
To this day, (And he is almost 40 years old) He still blames them for everything wrong that happened in his life. He won't take responsibility for his own life...he's got to blame *something*. He is an "old" man at only 40 years old (He looks like he's 60) He has werid health problems, and he gets "mental" at times. Thinking he is "shrinking" or that someone is after him, or whatnot.
So that background was giving because I saw all of this starting around nine years of age, (He was 20) and I saw from an objective view point that, that is *NOT* the life that I wanted.
My mother continued to homeschool me, and around the age of 10 she was getting more "Christian life" materials listening to them, and thinking that is where she "failed" with my brother. She didn't do it like these other "more godly" people taught.
Like "Dare to Shelter" and the Mennonites, Chairty people (Denny Kennaston), etc.
My mother NEVER forced these ideals on me. She introduced them to me, but never forced them on me. But they made logical sense to me, and I saw how my brother's life was being ruined by his foolish choices. (And his life is still pretty ruined)
One day we went to visit my grandmother in N.J. and she said it would be fun to go to Lancaster PA and see the Amish. I was a dye hard "Little House" fan and it intreged me that there were people who still lived like this. I didn't know they did it for religious reasons.
When we got there, and I saw a the ladies with the headcoverings on, I realized that Laura and her mom only wore bonnets outside. But not ALL THE TIME. So I asked my mom why they did that. She said, "Because the Bible said so in I Corinthains 11"
When I got home I began to read the Bible. Why didn't we wear these coverings if it was in the Bible? Then I read more about the Amish, and all these things they did "because the Bible says" and I wanted to be Amish.
My parents were born again, but we didn't do ANY of the things that the Amish did.
About this time, I began to get the girl magazines, "HopeChest" and "The Kingsdaughter"
I read about these girls lives and was jealous. Why weren't we like them?
They seemed to know a lot more and had something that I didn't. They had lots of siblings. I had ALWAYS wanted another brother or sister, but my mom had me later in life, and dad didn't want anymore and got snipped.
Mom told me this. I was so sad.
None of these girls magazine talked about the issue of "quiverfull" but now that I look back on it, most of these girls had quiverfull parents. As I studied the Amish more, read these magazines, I started to adopt these ideas. I wanted to be a "real Christian". At this time my parents were not going to church. They left a "liberal" non-denominational church and were in search of another one, but couldn't seem to find one.
We finally tried out an Independant Fundamental Baptist Church down the road. It was *ALMOST* everything my little legalistic heart desired.
We continued to go. It was there that I began to fear I wasn't saved when I was five years old at the neighorhood vacation bible school, when I prayed the sinners prayer.
It was after a hell and fire, rip roaring, hell and fire brimstone, "revival", that I became "convicted.
So I got saved again. And since I was really saved, I began to wear only dresses, let my hair grow out, etc.
I asked my mom to buy the Rod and Staff fictional books for teens and that is what "fed" me. I tried to wear a covering but my dad wouldn't let me do so in public. I felt that he was hindering me in my walk with Christ. But I obeyed him anyway.
I stopped listening to CCM. I tried my best to obey my father in everyway I could. I listened to Jonathon Lindvall's tapes for men, *WISHING* my father would be like he was.
Stupid me, I used to berate my dad all the time, telling him he wasn't a good enough Christian.
My mom tried to tone me down a bit, but I was in full fledge teenage years. I felt she should be greateful I wasn't running around getting into trouble like my brother was.
But during all of this I kept doubting my salvation. And I kept making professions of faith.
I went to an IFB Bible college. The first semester I was in love. People "LIKE ME"!! LOL!
I went gung ho on fire for the Lord. I went witnessing every opportunity I could. But even there, I realized not everyone held my convictions. Some of them were "fake" and were only there because their parents made them be there. Some of them wanted to be there, but didn't believe exactly like the college or the church.
It was there that I met my husband. He came from a more "liberal" background than I had. And we didn't even hit it off, very well at first because he was a computer geek, and he talked about motherboards, and modums, and etther cables, and I had NO IDEA what he was talking about! ;D
But eventually we started to like one another. DH, asked my dad's permission to "date" me. (I didn't believe in dating, after reading Joshua Harris' "I Kissed Dating Goodbye") Dad asked me, "what should I tell him?" I told my dad that he needed to have a talk with this guy about his life goals, what his long term intentions were with me, and that I won't date him, but if he want's to court me, I am open to the idea"
My mom and dad sat him in the living room for about four hours and talked with him. They liked him!
So we began our courtship. We were more "strict" than even Josh and Anna Duggar. We didn't hold hands. (But we did invent what we called the pillow hug. We put pillows between us to hug. And held hands with a blanket between our hands. I know pretty
LOL!So a year and half after we began our courtship we were married. Our first kiss ever. Even though he had had about three girlfriends before me, amazingly he never kissed them.
And I could tell by how we were both inexperienced about the whole matter.
The year and half before we were married I went through another rough bout of "salvation doubts". I was trying the best I knew how to live for the Lord, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I may not be saved truly. I would get depressed and have panic attacks.
DH was kind to me, and was sympathetic, and tried to help me as best as he could. I tried to push these doubts away, but they wouldn't cease.
After three months of marriage we found out we were expecting.
I was so excited. I planned on a home birth. I found a Christian midwife (who wasn't exactly like the "quiverfull midwife" she was more hippiesh. She had just became a Christian about two years before we met her. So she had some "crazy" ideas theologically according to us. But she was sweet and she loved her job)
Three months into my pregnancy DH thinks he wants to be a missionary to Russia. I was so excited. Here was a chance to Truly serve the Lord instead of just being "ho hum" Christians. So back to Bible College we went. To finish up our remaining credits and begin deputation.
Our Bible College was one hour and a half away from where we were living.
I really struggled with the thought of giving up our little house, and all the stuff in it and moving to Russia. But I committed everything to the Lord.
We moved into a dorm that had no air conditioning in it. One room. And I was about four months pregnant. And this was in Florida.
During the winter months it wasn't to bad. But it was bad enough.
I had no kitchen.I would go back to my parents house for midwifery appointments. It was my goal to finish college in mid-may (due date was June 1st) and then move in with our parents to have the baby at their house.
Again, still doubting horribly about my salvation. Even made *another public profession* of faith.
By this time DH wasn't being very tolerant of my doubts. He got exasperated and said, "You have done everything you know what to do to be saved, and if you make another profession, you're just going to make another one!"
But something was different about this "doubt" I couldn't shake it like I had with the others. For about two weeks I was in extreme stress. Not wanting to eat, but forcing myself to. Wanting to dye but not wanting to.
Begging God ALL night trying to pray through and get saved. After about eight hours of praying I came to the conclusion that I had sinned away my chance of being saved. I had faked it to long, and there was no chance left for me. I was going to hell.
When DH got back that night, I told him I was going to Hell in hysteraics. He wasn't impressed with me, and started to yell at me to be quiet.
I can't remember what happened after that.
About two weeks later, a man came through our chapel and preached about how he had doubted his salvation throughout almost his whole Christian life.
I perked up. He was preaching things I had NEVER heard before in my years as an IFB. *WHAT* was he saying??
I went to talk to him after the message, and he showed me in the Bible how the IFB's (remember he was preaching in an IFB Bible College) make salvation into a work!
What he said made perfect simple sense! (He showed me TONS of verses in Hebrews and Romans and Galatians) He didn't force me to make a decision or pray a sinner's prayer. He said, "Think about it, and I'll be praying for you"
Well, I did think about it. I couldn't STOP thinking about it. I went up to my room thinking about it, layed down to try to nap so I could process it later.
But I couldn't. And then it dawned upon me. Jesus finished it all! There was nothing left *to do*. God was satasified with Jesus' payment for my sin, why wasn't I? Yeah, why wasn't I? SO I said, "God, your satisifed, so am I!"
Just then a sweet still peace came over my soul, and I began to cry for joy. Something that had NEVER happened with all of my professions. All I could do was shout, "I am free! I am free! I am free!" I jumpped and danced, and shouted hallalugiah. I KNEW that Jesus blood was good enough, and was good enough for "stupid" ol' me.
DH got home, and I was so excited. I told him with Joy, and he's like, "That's what I have been trying to tell you all along". Well if that's what he was saying, it didn't come across that way at all.
I had talked to A LOT of people before that preacher, and they all said, "Pray and ask Jesus to save you and mean it with your heart"
They never explained what Jesus accomplished on the cross for me.
After that, I started to see some amazing things.
First of all I was about five almost six months pregnant now. Living on the third floor. The laundry room was four floors down in the basement of this college. I had a HUGE large laundry hamper, and couldn't carry it down by myself.
We and two other couples were the only people living on our floor and I was the only on up there, as everyone else was at work.
I NEEDED to get the laundry done, or DH wasn't going to have clean underware. And I needed to do it in the afternoon when everyone was at work, otherwise, all the washers would be full with the single girls clothing.
So I prayed that God would send someone to help me carry it down.
I sccoched out the door, no one was there. I turned to lock my door, and then prayed for strength to pick up the laundry basket. As I was picking it up, some guy from almost out of no where said, "Don't pick that up! I'll get it for you!"
Another time, was it was getting extremely hot in my room (towards the end of the semester in Summer time) and I prayed that one of the falcuty members that lived on campus would let me stay in thier home during working hours and the hottest part of the afternoon.
I waited in the College bookstore hoping someone to take pity on me. No one did.
I went up to my room and started to cry. Then the thought came to my mind to give thanks in "everything" So I did. I thanked the Lord that at least my room had a shower. Because I took a cold shower to cool off.
I thanked the Lord that there was electricity in my room for a rotating fan that I could stand in front of.
A few days later, a falcuty memeber asked me if I would like to stay in a room with air-conditioning. A *DIRECT* answer to prayer. And was better because I could stay in it all day and all night.
I was very thankful.
So I graduated. Went home to have my baby. I was a week overdue, so midwife gave me some herbs to induce labor. My labor started the next day.
But I didn't progress and I was having horrible backlabor after being in labor for 24 hours.
Midwife said we could transfer to the hospital to get an epidural. My husband said, "I think she can do it here". Midwife gave him a glaring look and said, "I don't think she can. I think it's best that we transfer"
So we transfered.
I had an awesome hopspital experience, and the doctor that devlivered my baby was the doctor that trained my midwife. They had a good working relationship.
He kept me from getting a C-section because he didn't rupture my water. He let my water break on it's own. So even though I was in labor for over 24 hours, I was still allowed to have a vaginal birth.
So we went home, My DH found us an apartment to live in instead of the girls dorm, and we went back to chruch of our Bible College.
DH was having second thoughts on being a missionary.
I was fat. I had gained a horendous ammount of weight. I was afraid of getting pregnant again and being fat. I started an extremem diet to loose my weight. I weaned my baby, and I tracked my cycles so I could loose my weight.
Around this time I found the Maxwell's forum (Mangers of their Home) and the quiverfull email group.
I thought I was "quiverfull" by not using birth control. But these people took it to an extreme level. Not even regulating their cycles.
I started to have questions when these ladies would ask a question about quiverfull
I remember on the Maxwell's board that one woman said she has horrible back pain during pregnancy. To the point she has to stay in bed, and her husband worked late hours and he couldn't take care of her when she was on bed rest. And there was no family around.
Did the quiverfull priciple apply even then? I remember Terri Maxwell said, "We would encourage you to trust the Lord no matter the outcome"
That was somthing that made me go "hmmmm"
My biggest concern was being obese and having babies all the time. I noticed a lot of these women were obese. That couldn't be healthy for the baby either right?
But I shoved it out of my mind.
I got pregnant with our second one when our oldest was 11 months old.
When I gave birth to her (A sucessful, very peaceful homebirth with the same midwife that had transfered me) my midwife said that my pelvic floor muscels were very weak and I needed to kegal kegal kegal!!
I tried to. I bought the Kegal master but wasn't very faithful with it.
I was a healthy weight when I got pregnant with #2 and ate healthy during the whole pregnancy, and lost almost ALL of the baby weight as soon as she was born. I only had about five pounds to loose to get back to pre baby weight.
After baby # two was born, I was beginning to have doubts about salvation again. But they weren't as big as they were before. Before they were more of, "Did that guy tell me the truth? Because what he told me I am *NOT* hearing at church"
So I began to do an internet search, and found a IFB church that REALLY messed me up. They were almost Catholic in their presentation of salvation.
It got worse and worse. They were twisting scriptures, but it was hard to tell because I was still so young, (23) and still very young in my faith.
Through all of that garbage, I began to search for the truth. And it wasn't fun at times. I began to get depressed again. Panic attacks again.
I didn't know what was up or down, or around. I was so confused.
I asked people TONS of questions, each one giving a different answer. Someone told me NOT to go on anti-depressents because that wasn't trusting God.
Another person in the SAME church told me to go on them, there was nothing wrong with them.
I was so frightened so scared. I didn't know what to do.
We moved to another city, went to a different church, and I got pregnant with #3. I cried and had a fit. I wasn't ready for another baby. I was a depressed misfit, and I couldn't handle it.
(So I thought)
To make a long story short. After I had #3 my pelvic floor muscles gave way, and something protruded down in my vaginal canal. I later learned it was part of my intestines.
My husband talked with our pastor about me. He strongly advised my husband to give me a break. Because of the dperession and the health problem. Thankfully my husband listened.
My midwife told me that it takes the body two years between births to completely heal, and that I had done a number on my body. She also told me to take a rest.
So four years later I am still dealing with this issue.
But that was the deciding factor that didn't make me "truly quiverfull"
Ironically it was after I read Created to Be His Helpmeet that I found out how flawed the quiverfull movment was. That book despite it's encouraging women to stay in an abusive relationship really opened my eyes up to the silliness that goes on in "Christianity"
Even the woman dresses only (which the Maxwells were very adament about!)
My depression escalated and I felt sucidial but not wanting to do so, for fear of hell. But I was very close to running away from home because my children deserved better.
I want to interject something here. My salvation doubts were "extreme" to the point I did NOTHING but cry about my sould all day long. My husband's patience was wearing thin. Very thin, and he said some very hurtful things to me. Very hurtful.
It made me feel devalued as a woman, wife and mother. Which is why I wanted to run away.
When I got to that point, I ditched my fears of anti-depressants, and made an appointment with a physctrist. An awesome one that didn't sit in judgment on me. Very compassionate and concerned about my well-being. I thrived on the first pills I took. THRIVED on them.
On them, my mind was clear enough to be objective about everything I subjectived to myself.
I went to a Bible study for a year and half. I was basically the only one in the study. That lady is now like my mother. She NEVER put me down.
She showed me my flawed views of God. And to my complete shock and amazment, what she was teaching me was the SAME thing that that, preacher told me in Bible College. And that the IFB churches I was going to was teaching a works salvation.
I also met a few women to who showed me who I was in Christ, even though I did things that didn't please men. Men would manipulate me and say that it wasn't pleasing to God.
But these women explained, that when I became a Christian, my old man died completely. And what I do now, depsite my mistakes Jesus still loves me. And he *WILL* say "Well done my good and faithful servent" Not because I tried my darndest to be the best Christian. But because Christ is in me. God is saying that because of Christ. Not because I did everything right in this world.
So my security isn't in man, or man made doctrines anymore. I could give a filp about what someone thinks anymore. And I don't subject myself to teaching that would make me feel guilty.
Many times, I hear mom saying "go with your instincts". Well, My instincts aren't very well developed because I had so much poo poo adminstered to my brain.
So instead I take it directly to the Lord and HE gives me the wisdom I need. And he is always spot on.
Be it the smallest of issues, to the biggest of issues. I don't even look in the Bible.
For instance, My dog ate dark choclate, and I had a dog when I was a teenager that did the same thing, and she almost died.
I was panicing, and wasn't thinking clearly "AT ALL" In a desperate cry, I said, "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?" And "Activated Charcoal" came directly to my mind. I ran and looked it up on the internet, and that is *exactly* what is reccomended for choclate poisening for dogs. I couldn't believe how detailed the Lord was!
So obviously if anyone is still reading I am still a Christian. I know that many of you are not.
I can't answer for you and what makes you think that.
But what I found that anything that claims to be "good stuff" I have found to be legalism.
I almost didn't get saved because of the legalism. The whole quiverfull, dresses only, seperation from the world, and sheltering mentality made me focus on my good deeds. And I didn't see my need for Christ.
It was that day in my dorm, when I prayed for eight hours straight that I saw that my prayers and sincerity wasn't impressing God in the lest bit. And after that point there was nothing I could do to get his attention. I had failed.
When I came to that point and someone shared that Jesus had done it ALL for me, and there nothing for me to do at all, but trust that Jesus had done it all. I ate it up. And I was freed. But I was still in the stinky legalistic enviroment. And I am still coming out of it.
It took the meds for me to get brave to start rejecting it all, and start living off of Jesus. Not my church, not the newest Christian book. Not some Christian guru that everyone admires.
My marriage is slowly changing as I am finding worth of who I am in Christ. I still submit to my husband, but it's more of a "respect" thing, than an unquestionable no matter what kind of thing.
I get sassy with him, and keep him on his toes.
A few of those ladies explained it to me this way. When we submit to our husband in every little thing without question or discussion, they began to take advantage of us. They begin to see us as "weak" and easy to walk all over.
While their intentions are't meant to walk all over us at first, if we give them the opportunity to walk all over us, they have no other choice.
Men like a challange most times. If we submit without a challenge they are bored. So they have to make a challange and thus make it worse on us.
At first I thought this was craziness! I was taught to submit no matter what, or how silly or how little. But one day, DH and I were watching Pride and Predjuice. And he said that Mr. Darcy liked Lizzy because he challanged her, and she wasn't a doormat and let him walk all over her.
I was SHOCKED!!!
I never told my DH that this is what these women were advising me to do. I took this as confirmation from the Lord that these women were giving me wise advice, LOL! 
Sooo...all of that background info to say this.
My marriage has experienced up and downs. Most of it was due to my manipulation to my husband. It was MY idea to do the no hand holding. It was MY idea to do dresses only, quiverfull only.
My husband has done stuff that would be considered abusive to me. But instead of me blaming it all on him, I am going to take responsibility for it. I don't have to let him abuse me. I was setting myself up for the abuse.
Now let me be clear. I KNOW that many women don't set themselves up for the abuse. But in my case. I was. I was submitting to every little whim of his, and he had no challange. He was bored.
But if I give him the unexpected, I have that "woman mystery" about me again that attracted me to him in the first place.
I no longer cry to manipulate him (sometimes I do if I am just darn tired) But instead I sass at him, and don't take his crap, LOL! Usually he just walks away.
Sure he has a long way to go. SO DO I!
I could look back on my life, and blame all my depression and sucidal tendcies on alot of crap that I went through.
But the thing is life deals out crap no matter what background you are from. It is our job to mature from it.
I could blame my parents for putting so much time and attention into my brother and his problems, and not saying anything to get me out of the cultish mindframe I was in.
But would it of done any good? I mean I probably would of rebelled even more.
My mother has been through the worst of crap with me. She always supported me. She always loved me.
And my poor dad, LOL! He was pushed around by all these self-righteouss legalistic women. And he endured abuse from me his daughter telling him that basically he was a crappy dad, because he wasn't like these dads were supposed to be.
My dad is a good man. So full of compassion and forgivness. And I was so disrepsectful to him, and he took it like a gentleman.
My point is. I was spiritually abused. I have every reason to get upset and get bitter about it. I have every reason to complain about what my parents did wrong.
But that was *then* this is *NOW*. We need to use our past to work through what mistakes were made. And after that, we need to use it to shape our future for the *BETTER*.
We need to get the help we need to (counseling, thearpy, medication, etc) to move past all this junk. Talking out it is good.
By my fear is, after reading these testimonies and listening to how upset you ladies still are, is that there is going to something else bad that happens in your life, and you may blame it on that.
(Please don't think I am diminishing your experience. I went through it too.)
Like my brother. He is 40 years old. He refuses to learn to let go of the past. He holds onto stubbornly. He WANTs to hold onto. He wants to hash and rehash how stupid he is. How his wife left him, etc. etc.
No one wants to be around him. Because that is all he talks about. He has no other hobbies. No other reason to live but to just bad mouth his ex-wife, and tell everyone how bad his life sucks.
Now finally, after almost 12 years of being divorced he got himself a girlfriend and is maybe starting to move ahead with his life. But he still is angry and bitter, and an old sick man because of it.
This is kind of baffleing to me. (Reading your testimonies) How you blame all these bad things that happened to you on how bad your life is now.
If you weren't involved in the quiverfull movment, there would of been *something* else. Believe me
My mother was adopted. She went to find her real mother. Her real mother and father were married, but her father didn't want her, so her mom gave her up for adoption. How do you think that made her feel? Unwanted I am sure!
He adoptive parents loved her and took care of her, and were the best parents they could be. But they made mistakes.
My mom was a wild girl. She went to Catholic School. She was made to by her devout Catholic father.
Catholicsm can be just as distructive as the type of enviroment we came out of.
My mother could of blamed ALL this crap on her biological parents, her adoptive parents, etc.
Then my mom married young, and her first husband died a week after she was married. How tragic is that?
And then she married my father, who was in the Navy, and left her for two years alone, and her mother in law hardly visited her, even though she lived 10 minutes away.
My mom could of blamed all that crap on a sucky life. But she "bloomed where she was planted" for a dumb cliche' but sort of wise I think.
My mom was raised by a Catholic Father, and an agnositic mother. She still had emotional problems.
There are just so many things that shape us in our life. Be it religion, lost loves, lost family members, adoption, people who rejected us for the dumbest of reasons.
I don't know. I just get an uneasy feeling. The quiverfull movement is a boatload of crap. But there are MANY more people out there who suffer and it has nothing to do with religion.
I guess my question is, (out of curoisty) when those of you who are agnostic or athesitic, and raise your children to be independent thinkers, (Which I believe is an awesome thing, so don't not do that!) and they have emotional problems due to other various issues, and you can't blame the quiverfull movment, what are you going to do about that?
I ask this in a real sincere manner. I can understand why you would want to give up on Christianity. Believe me. I wanted to as well a few times.
But I was talking to my mother about this yesterday. And she said, "I am going to tell you what my mother told me. (Remember her mother was agnostic) "Right or Wrong, I did my best, because I love you"
We are all going to make mistakes. We can't sit on an issue and stay there and dwell in it's ucky experiences and come out a better person.
We can raise awareness. We can encourage people to not go in the same direction. We can use the crap for good. But to stay in the crap through our reliving it in our mind, what good does that do?
Like I read one girl on here, that her father made her rub her feet. I am a bit perplexed about that one. Really. I mean there are other issues that are more abusive. Sure it would be gross. A bit weird. I wouldn't want to do it.
But I could point out things in my mother and father's life that I could be bitter about.
My parents made me sleep in a dining room. They put my bed in there. But still. I hated it. I had no privacy, and since it was next to the kitchen, when I went to bed, I would be awakened.
And then we moved. I had my own room for a while It was pink too.
Then when my brother got his girlfriend pregnant, they gave my room to them, and I had to sleep in another room that had no privacy. I didn't like it either.
I could dwell on it. And I could pick out all kinds of poopie things that made me sad, and blame it on them. But really, would that be fair. "Right or Wrong they did their best". I can look back on all the good things instead and dwell on them.
Now I know alot of you endured more crap than I ever did. And I am not sitting on judgment. I am just perplexed.
I am a mother myself now. I am re-evaluating a lot of what I thought was "good parenting" and seeing it wasn't. (Like newborn schedules)
I don't want to ruin my children emotionally. But I realize that MANY MANY parents that do the best that they absolutely can, their children end up hating them anyway.
Forgive me for all the typos and misspellings.
And so does DH. ;D
