The Evolution of a Sin

What is sin exactly? How is it defined? Does sin morph, or is it static with time? Surely, anyone who has studied any amount of religious history, can see that sin changes with each generation. 

Can religious masses be expected to understand a generally accepted rule book, delineating every little detail of life, telling them what is wrong and what is not right? After all, most of religious theology, especially Christianity, the religion I am most familiar with, deals with what man, throughout history, has done wrong, and what can be done about it.

When I was a young lad, I used to drink water - a lot! I would go into the bathroom, cup my hand under the faucet, fill it with water, and bring it to my mouth, repeatedly. I loved the taste of Minneapolis water. It was sweet, with a hint of lemon and lime. 

Then, my Mama found religion. Religion was an Artesian well. Once a fortnight, we would drive our old van forty minutes to the well, fill scores of gallon glass bottles up under the flowing metal pipe, then drive them back home.

Mama made it a rule that we were no longer allowed to drink city water. Artesian well water was blessed by the gods. It was healthy. Checked for all sorts of chemicals every four years or something.

Drinking city water was now a sin.

My sinful nature took over, as it was wont to do. I was a descendant of Adam. I had no choice but to want to sin. So I drank city water. I couldn't stand the crap from the well unless it was so ice cold, you could barely taste the flavor. Kind of like how you have to drink Coors Lite, hoping, beyond hope, that you swallow it before any sensation remotely resembling the taste of piss-water, becomes recognizable by the receptors in your brain.

A year later, I was convicted of my sins. I went to a seminar where the guru, Billy Boy G. (Gothard) told us all to think of two sins we wanted to confess to our Mamas and then remove from our lives. So we could be good smelling to the gods, or something. The two sins I picked were drinking city water and picking my nose and eating it. In other words, within one evening in front of that black-haired, lying bastard, I removed my only hope of street survival.

From that moment on, I never picked my nose and ate it again. I did, on the other hand, drink city water, here and there. I told you...I was a descendant of Adam. I had a sin nature. What the hell was I supposed to do? Be perfect? Oh yeah...like I was Jesus. Sure, HE never picked his nose and ate it and always drank Artesian well water. But dammit! That's because he probably turned his bloody snot into loaves and Swedish fishies, and his Artesian water into delectable Italian wine. I didn't have those powers. That man had it easy.

And so, sin was what I was made to feel guilty about, then established in my life what I needed to do about eradicating it, then constantly focusing on not partaking in it, so I could feel right and proper when taking communion the next Sunday, needing to dig deeper to find other sins I could create, starting the cycle all over again.

I'm thirsty. The tap is calling.

A Bible Lesson for the Pastor: Bill Gothard Was Blessed by God

My last blog post was a direct copy of a letter I received from an Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) Pastor and my response. But, as I read his letter over and over again, something began to rub me the wrong way. One little phrase he used in there jumped out at me (sort of like the times when you sit in a Bible study and people say that verses jumped out at them, giving them a Eureka, except they never subsequently ran naked, into the street).

The pastor wrote:

[Bill Gothard] is a spiritual "ishmaelite"--Galatians 4:29-31.

Why didn't he capitalize 'Ishmaelite':?...

Now, several things jump out to me here. First, the fact that the pastor didn't capitalize the word 'Ishmaelite.' It could have been an inadvertent mistake, though, both respect and the English language would have dictated that he capitalize the 'I'. But, let's assume it was purposeful.

In Fundamentalist circles, you use a lowercase letter at the beginning of a proper noun to show deference to the real owner of that proper noun.

For example, if you were writing a sentence about the Bible god, you would write it like so:

God rules the world with an iron fist but somehow cannot even stop a righteous farmer from getting caught up in a tornado.

And then, when you are writing about another people's god, you would write it like this.

So god went about the world like a pansy, not being able to do anything, because he had no love. Only one God had love. The One True God.

You get my point. Not capitalizing the first letter of a proper noun is a clear message that you are poking that proper noun in the eye. You have no respect for it. Keep this in mind for later...

But that wasn't this pastor's worst offense:

In truth, this pastor shouldn't take all the blame here. It's a fault of the scriptural message, as espoused by the Apostle Paul, traditionally considered to be the author of Galatians.

The verses the pastor quoted were Galatians 4:29-31:

At that time the son born according to the flesh persecuted the son born by the power of the Spirit. It is the same now. But what does Scripture say? “Get rid of the slave woman and her son, for the slave woman’s son will never share in the inheritance with the free woman’s son.” Therefore, brothers and sisters, we are not children of the slave woman, but of the free woman.

IC, what do those verses mean!?...

These verses are referring to the story of Ishmael in Genesis. In Genesis 16, Sarai, the wife of ole' Abe, decided that she wasn't going to have any children, which was a huge deal in those days. So, she did the cultural thing and let her husband have sex with her maid, Hagar. Hagar would then birth the child, Ishmael on Sarai's lap and the son would essentially be hers.

But...

But it wasn't that simple. Sarai saw that Hagar was pregnant and hated her for it. She went to ole' Abe and lied to him, using romantical words, "You made love to her and she conceived, and now look! She hates me!" Nowhere had it said that Hagar hated Sarai. But, ole' Abe, the stand-up gentleman he was, said, "She's your freaking maid. You deal with her. I just had sex with her for God's sake (literally)."

Oops...don't do that! Your wife is pissed!...

So Sarai was mean to her. Hagar left the camp and was met by an angel that told her that Ishmael would grow up and be a mighty man. He would live amongst his relatives. He would fight with them and they would fight with him. Then she went back to the camp.

But wait! A real son!...

Then, Isaac was born. THIS BOY was the one God had promised ole' Abe. He was actually from Abe's sperm and Sarai's egg. So, he was the correct son. 

Kids will be kids...

One day, the two half-bro lads were having a sibling rivalry. Because God had given Ishmael a mighty hand, he was probably besting Isaac in some game. He began to mock Isaac, as kids do. But it pissed Sarai off. Here was her stepson, whom she had told ole'Abe to drill her maid to birth, being mean to her full-blooded boy.

So, she told Abe to kick him and his ma out of the camp for good. Abe was told by an angel that it was okay, so he did it.

But the angel told him a peculiar thing, and also reiterated this peculiar thing to Hagar later - Ishmael, due to being born of Abraham, was going to be blessed as ole' Abe's seed, and birth a great nation - just like Isaac.

So here's the lesson for the pastor (and for the Apostle Paul, for that matter)...

Ishmael was blessed too. Exactly like Isaac. Sure, Isaac didn't receive the blessing about being awesome, and an enmity in the eyes of all his brethren. But they were both promised a great nation. They were both guaranteed to be blessed because they came from Abraham. A blessing from YOUR GOD! Not some half-assed pseudo-religious blessing, meaningless in the eyes of True Christianity. Nope. A gosh darned equal blessing by the very god that you say blessed Isaac so much so that you have to write 'Ishmael' with a lowercase 'i'.

Sir, you need to capitalize 'Ishmael'.

And the final (worst) lesson...

If, as you say, Bill Gothard was an 'Ishmaelite,' I hate to say it but, he is blessed by your god - and will birth a great nation. Look at his "ministry". He has!

Now, do you see why I view religion as utter poppycock?

A Pastor Writes - I Respond

I won't name the Pastor, but he recently emailed me the following email:

Dear Friend,

I found your remarks strikingly sobering.  I am an Independent Baptist Pastor.  I loathe with all my loathing Jack Hyles' vile legacy though in my early Christian experience, late 1970's and early 1980's, I was rather impressed with him and his view of ministry.  I now know his empire was rotten and I thank the Lord often for giving me warning against him before I was ensnared in the Hyles/Hammond cult.  The best one could say about the Hammond/hyles cult was that is was a form  of present tense salvation by works. 

Then you mention Bill Gothard.  He is an evil Old Covenant syncretist.  I call him Bill "the butcher" Gothard.  He butchers the scriptures and he butchers people's lives.  I am still stunned and appalled at what took place in the woeful homes that took that man's teaching seriously and in heavy doses.  He is a spiritual "ishmaelite"--Galatians 4:29-31. 

To which I responded, a bit rambling at times:

Dear young squire, 

Thank you for your kind words. I must implore you not to be sober. Pastor Hyles and Bill Gothard, while horrible representatives of the Christian faith, and not indicative of everyone in the faith by any means, were simply a beginning catalyst on my walk out. The true facts of my de-conversion are quite reasoned and minimally have anything to do with evil people. Though, the fact that evil people exist because of the faith, not faith existing in spite of evil people, is part of the reason why I left. 

See, there is no way to butcher the Bible. It is open to any and all interpretations and cannot be taken as a singular organism. After all, the councils that put together the canon, as we know it, voted on everything with a majority vote. If God had his hand in it, the Bible god, who allegedly contains all sorts of omni characteristics, would have made sure their were no contradictions in it. More importantly, my view is that, if these men were actually godly men, led by god, the votes would have been unanimous. 

So, don't blame Hyles for my current life. Don't blame Gothard. Blame your god. He was the one that didn't take it upon himself to solve the riddle to mankind with a simple tutorial. Blame your god for not striking down these evil men before they could destroy lives. He was so active in the Bible at doing so, and yet, now, he's bloody impotent. He watches while little children get raped in dark rooms and the men get away with it with no consequences. Sure, you claim they will have consequences, but this god, who sees all doesn't have the capacity to stop the raping of the child and wills that she continues with a destroyed life? 

If you were god, you would obliterate the evil man. Free will be damned. With a god who transcends all, there is absolutely no excuse for any evil done to any innocent being. And all the clauses your religion sets up just keeps your hands tied from coming to any sort of solution for mankind to move forward - in your view. 

But hear this, young squire - I'm happy as a clam! No need to weep for me! I've thrown off the shackles of your god and have learned to live! Life, for me, is one big happy experience. Sure, I get sad and angry, at times, even swear on occasion. But so do you. I just don't have anyone to blame it on but myself. And thus, I know how to fix it. 

Carry on with your good work. But consider rethinking your premise - these evil men of the faith are not evil because they misinterpreted the faith. Rather, they are evil because the faith dictated that they COULD be evil. That humanity saw their bullshit and took them to task is a celebration of US and not your impotent god. 

Love, 

I. C.

I love it when people write to me. I hope he writes again. But, suffice it to say, there are two things that irritate me about people trying to get me to come back to Christianity:

1. That the only reason I left was because of bad people. If only I had been surrounded by good people, I would still be a Christian.

2. That the person writing or talking to me, in exclusion of all others, holds the keys to the most correct interpretation of the Bible. 

Why I Write About Crackpots Like Tony Perkins and Ted Cruz, et al

I was them once.

It's that simple.  I was a patriarchal asshole.  A person who looked at the world through black and white religious glasses.  Religious glasses that were backed up by religious thought and religious thought alone.  

If I had a question about any subject, religious, political, sexual, financial, anything, it didn't matter, I would go to Google or Altavista or Webcrawler and find what other Christians were saying about the matter.  Inevitably, I would happen across websites run by the Family Research Council, the American Family Association, Focus on the Family, Desiring God, Institute in Basic Life Principles, Vision Forum, etc.  It didn't matter.  If they claimed to be Christian, I ate them up.  Any written or spoken words that came from a pragmatic point of view or argued anything without a Scripture verse or two attached to it, I would move on. 

As a younger boy, I sat, mesmerized, watching and listening to Bill Gothard at his seminars and then read all of his materials that reached into every single area of your life - to get answers for things as trivial as the proper way to run a church service, or the proper way to pray (it was laying on your face, by the way, because, in the Bible, that god answered more prayers when people ate sand than when they stood - and that god never talked about being "on your knees").

I am not unique with respect to my above words.  There are thousands, nay, millions of people that only go to religious sources for their beliefs and they usually settle for either the loudest or the most well-funded organizations, the FRC among them.

And these people and organizations are convincing.

These folks parrot popular positions from the Religious Right, sprinkle it with a bit of the Bible, say "God" (extra points for "Jesus" because he's more popular), and then claim that they are "set apart" from the world, which obviously disagrees with them.

There is nothing more convincing than the idea that a Christian is holding to an unpopular position.  Jesus was killed for his.  Therefore how much more pious is a Christian for being ridiculed for their position.  Adversity means correctness in every respect.

This is how those people, like Ted Cruz, Tony Perkins, Ken Ham, JimBob Duggar, Franklin Graham, Pat Robertson, Strawberry Boy Driscoll, John Piper, and everyone else I have written about, gets into the heads of those that listen to them.

Finally, as much as I used to BE them, I was taught to think, and I STOPPED being them.  That, my friends, is why I write.  I am here to make people think, change minds, and maybe save blokes from a few unnecessary pop knots (thanks to Lewis Wells of Commandments of Men for that phrase) on their heads.

That is all.

Upcoming Series - The Great Deceiver: Dr. Kenneth Copley Strikes Again

I will be posting a multi-part story from a woman who contacted me about an extended affair she had with Dr. Kenneth Copley, while he was a counselor at a "biblical" counseling center in Carmel, Indiana.

This story is not for young readers, is sexually graphic in nature due to necessity, and has only been minimally altered grammatically by me.

As you will see, the victim struggles with her spirituality and still continues to claim Christianity to this day.  While I am convinced that full healing will only be possible once the shackles of religion is thrown off completely, I have respected the author's desire to portray her perceived wonders of spiritual healing.  I find no fault in that path.

For those who are unfamiliar with my series of the sexual abuse of another victim, Ruth Copley Burger, at the hands of Dr. Kenneth Copley, her adopted father, you can begin that series here.

As reported here, around the time the "Hammer Drops" series went to post, it was discovered that Dr. Kenneth Copley had been a counseling pastor at Brownsburg Baptist Church in Brownsburg, IN.  The church was contacted and the the pastor informed those who contacted him that Dr. Kenneth Copley was no longer employed at the church.

Further research was done and it was discovered that Dr. Kenneth Copley was now employed at The Cross in Fort Wayne, IN.  If you glance over on the right of that page, you will see Dr. Kenneth Copley's name prominently displayed as the Associate Pastor of this church.  If this is still the case, people need to be warned of Dr. Kenneth Copley's propensity to groom his young victims and strike when they are most vulnerable.

I hope you find The Great Deceiver series riveting, horrifying, and a call to stop sexual abuse behind a religious curtain of "good ole' boy" secrecy.

Part 1: Being Primed for Sexual Abuse

I Get Goog'ed!: Bill Gothard's Tampons

Today, some unlucky soul, with reverence in their heart, and worship on their lips, found Incongruous Circumspection while doing his due Berean diligence on Billy Boy G.  Their search term was:

Bill Gothard's tampons

I must say, I am not the expert on Billy Boy G., nor am I aware of his tampon use.  But, I think you might be onto something.  Tampons are super-absorbent and he has noted to the masses that he sheds many tears in his prostrate, rhema-expectant positions.

While lying, face down on the floor, hands folded in deep intercessory, upon the small of ones back, it becomes necessary to insert a hands-free object between the floor boards and the eyes, not to mention, one must catch the watery mucous that slyly escapes the nose when the crying becomes blubbery.

If my assessments are correct, I would suspect that Billy Boy G's trash can in his red-carpeted office would have at least four tampons in it per day.

But alas, you'll have to ask the barefooted young woman that took out his trash.  And yes, it would have always been a young woman.  Bill Gothard didn't take a fancy to young men bent over beside his desk.

That is all.

Happy Googling!

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - A Curious Child

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to Severe Homeschooling.

*****

Fast forward several years to age 9 and 10.  At this age, I was undergoing Copley-forced separation from my younger siblings; my older siblings were “serving God” at Bill Gothard’s Indianapolis Training Center, (ITC).  By this time, I had three younger siblings and I shared my room with one of them. I taught her to shoplift and eventually my parents found out and decided I wasn’t fit company for them.  Ken Copley jerked me out of bed one night and told me I was never to be alone with my younger siblings and unless my parents were in the room, I was to always leave.

“Sex”, and anything about my sexuality were “bad” words never to be uttered.  No one bothered to teach me anything about myself; I guess they figured if they never said anything, I would never DO anything or wonder about anything. WRONG!  Curiosity got the better of me and before my parents separated me from the younger ones, my younger sibling and I had started experimenting and looking at each other’s bodies and private areas.  I’ve since been informed by multiple friends and therapists that what my sibling and I engaged in was “normal childhood behavior.”  In my parents’ eyes, I was now a child molester.

Although I was already separated by the time my parents discovered this and the activity had already stopped, my dad gave me fifty swats with the wooden spoon and promised me 100 swats if experimenting ever occurred again.

Eventually, the ban was lifted and I was allowed to play with siblings again.  This only came about AFTER I made a second confession of “faith.”  Apparently, accepting Jesus as Savior was the missing link and now that I was “saved” I was fit for fellowship. 

My dad accepted a position as Staff Counselor with the Indianapolis Training Center and we moved in March of 1994.  The first few months were good, but I messed up again.  I was 11 and still no one had talked to me about puberty and sex.  The only thing I knew from my mother was “bleeding from ‘down there’ will start someday and I will grow hair.”  That was it.  So when the sexual urges started in, I groped a different sibling through her diaper and slapped her bottom. 

My parents found out and I was given 100 swats and separated once again from siblings AND the rest of the family.  We lived in an apartment but the ITC gave my parents two extra rooms across the hall.  The first room was where I spent a year alone.  They would send my older siblings to me with a plate of food.  I ate alone.  I played alone.  I wasn’t permitted to go outside.  The only “outside” activity I saw was through the window and walking to the car on Sunday mornings.

Read Part Five - The Pedophile Begins to Groom.

DFBNM: Part 1d - Husbands Are Omniscient and Wives MUST Give Sex

In Part 1c, we learned that men are so fragile, anything a woman does that is not exactly what the bloke is expecting will lead to his demise.  Let's finish looking at the first basic need of a husband.

*****

[Seek your husband’s advice first.  A wife should demonstrate loyalty to her husband’s wishes, goals, and standards. Therefore, when a need arises, you should seek your husband’s guidance and counsel first, especially in regard to family issues, rather than seeking advice from other family members and friends.]

When Kristine and I first met, I had swallowed this idea whole.  I knew all the answers to life and, better yet, knew how to find them in all of Bill Gothard's manuals.  The Bible was a secondary resource and yet I wielded it with creative gusto.  This worked very well for the first few minutes of our relationship.  At that point, it became clear that real life was a bit more complicated and could not be mastered by one man.

I had no idea what to do when Kristine had PMS.  When she had her monthly menstrual cycle, I was no help.  If she bled more than usual, it would have been foolish for her to come to me.  I was clueless in the kitchen, only good enough to throw together a pan of canned peas and tuna fish, heated on the stove.  If she wanted recipe ideas, why would she come to me?  When our first baby cried uncontrollably at night, I had no idea what to do.  When she got warts all over her hand, what the heck could I have done?  Why is it necessary to come to me first for everything?  It makes no sense except that it props up the "man on top" position and, believe me, that gets old after a while, if you catch my drift.

But, let's not focus on little details, rather, let's look at Bill's subtle wording at the end where he tells the worthless woman not to seek advice from family and friends, but rather to the husband.  It logically follows that if the husband has no clue, the wife can then move on to the family and friends, right?  Wrong.

[If you have questions about spiritual matters, you should first take them to your husband. If the two of you are unable to find the answers, then request help from wiser, more mature believers, such as your pastor, parents, or other mentors.]

You must ask only believers. Believers that are wiser than you because, of course, every decision in life requires so much wisdom.  Notice the pastor, then parents, then other "mentors"?  You simply cannot ask an expert. 

"Pastor, my wife needs me to decide whether we are a tampon or maxi pad family.  Oh, and she doesn't know what foundation is for but has a few bumps on her face she wants to smooth over.  What brand should she use?  She has oily skin so it can't dry it out too much.  And, pastor, we aren't seeing eye to eye on salt IN the soup or ON the soup.  Which is healthier.  But..but...pastor...another thing...she has trouble sleeping at night and has bouts of depression.  Being that drugs are evil, according to ole' lady guru over yonder, and the next person in line to take advice from is my parents and then a trusted mentor (not a doc), we figure you might be able to help us.  Should we pray about it?"

Additionally, it always strikes me as quite odd that Bill Gothard has such a high view of parents.  Many couples would rather not ask their parents for advice and for good reason.  But, Bill has to maintain his "chain of command". 

[Enjoy the privilege of physical intimacy.  God grants spouses full access to each other’s bodies for sexual gratification. “Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband. The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife. Defraud ye not one the other . . .” (I Corinthians 7:3-5; see also Ephesians 5:24 and Colossians 3:17-19). Resistance or indifference to your husband’s need for physical intimacy is the unspoken crushing of his spirit.]

This is cute, but weird.  Yes, this passage in 1 Corinthians tells a person that it is better to not have sex at all (this point alone caused me to reject all of 1 Corinthians).   But if you must, get a wife and then you both belong to one another.  No, you don't just belong to one another, both of you have authority over eachother's bodies.  This is exciting stuff!

But Bill cites this passage that gives a picture of both a husband and wife enjoying sex together even though the spiritual stuff is a tad creepy, and then turns it around to exclusively address the husband's "need" for lovin'.  Unfortunately, I agree with Bill here.  If my wife doesn't give me sex when I need it, my spirit is crushed.  I am very fragile in this area.  If she withholds herself from me when I demand...er...request the use of my property - her body - I pauperize into a whimpering puppy.  Who cares if she doesn't want it.  That's not important here.  All humor aside, the rest of the passages he cites are only addressing the wife.  She is to be submissive to the husband in all things.  Of course, the husband is supposed to deal tenderly with his wife and we all know what that means. 

Bill, by his own admission, has never had sex in his life.  He has no idea what it is to be in a relationship or in a marriage with the complex issue of intimacy with your partner.  The writers of these Bible passages have no clue either.  The only people who intimately understand each others needs, especially in the area of sex, is you or your spouse, if you have confided in them.  But, complex discussions don't go over well with Gothard's simplistic view of life.  He needs to spiritualize everything and force square pegs to fit into his round holes of life.

I say, go discover what the other wants.  You can't get better until you practice.  But, I do have one tip: touch something metallic before jumping between the sheets.  Static electricity is nobody's friend.

*****

In Part 2a, we will look at the next basic need of a husband: A man needs a wife who honors his leadership.  Haven't we been over this already?  Bill is starting to sound like a broken record.  Maybe he needs to get himself a wife and test some of his theory.  I'm thinking someone should match him up with Betty White.

The Medical Foolishness of Bill Gothard

Billy Boy G. sent a team to Peru where he is trying to sidle up to the leaders of that country and fool them into believing that he has all the answers for everything in life.  We know that he is just a fool, propping himself up as an expert.  His shills put out glowing reports on this blog, tracking the daily narcissistic movements of Bill.

On Day Eleven, apparently, Bill happens across some doctors who do medical procedures without knowing why they are doing what they're doing.  One day, they must have thought it was a fine idea to take some stomach and put it in the brain to cure "brain paralysis", or more commonly known, cerebral palsy.  A quick Goog search will reveal nothing of the sort.  (I have a feeling the doctors were pulling the leg of Billy Boy G. and his minions and are now laughing like crazy while Bill goes his merry way, thinking that some sort of meta-physical mysticism cures people.)

Bill apparently mentioned the "mind-body connection" which he links from that blog...oh wait!...that's not a link to an explanation.  It's a book plug!

Anyway, I'll save you the $39.00.  Wha...$39.00!!!!???  Wow!  Well, consider this charity.  Here are the seven daily stresses:

1.  Sort of not feeling stressed at all.
2.  Sort of getting to that point where I'm all stressed like.
3.  Yeah.  I'm stressed.
4.  Holy crap!  I'm really sooooooooooooooooooooooooper stressed right now!!!!!!!!!!!
5.  ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!  I can't handle this anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
6.  Nah, I'm ok.
7.  Whoa!  Dude!  I'm flying!.....SQUIRREL!

And that's it.  How you deal with those stresses is up to you.  A bit of nice music, a bowl of ice cream, a bubble bath, and a toe jam removal session, while laying off the coffee at 3AM goes a long way.

Maybe I should go to Peru.

I.C.

The Agnostic and the Pastor

A few weeks ago, a friend came over to visit.  She was going through some tough times in her life and needed some encouragement.  Or, it was possibly the other way around, because she really made us smile.  As we spoke, she relayed some news about a former pastor of mine.  His wife was dying of cancer (and had been for the last few years).  His mother had just passed away after living almost a century.  He was very close to his mother.  But, worst of all, a part of his heart had been ripped out of his chest because he had had to get rid of his dogs.

This gentleman (let's call him JJ) had two loves in his life (besides his wife, Jesus, and his children, in that order): motorcycles and dogs. 

I am exactly the opposite.  I hate all animals with a passion.  Cats disgust me and dogs make me recoil in horror at their smell, dandruff, hair, drool, dirty feet, crap in the yard, and pee on the carpet.  I like mice.  They are so cute in a trap with one eye popped out of their head.  Regardless, I have always looked up to this man as the person I most want to emulate if I was ever forced to cohabitate with a dirty, filthy pet.  And now his dogs were gone.

This information made me ache for his happiness.  I love people, regardless of race or creed, and desire that all are content.  If they are not, I take it upon myself to at least bring a smile to their cheekbones and mirth to their lips.  So, on a whim, I emailed him, inviting him out for dinner - just the two of us.  I gave him no details because I wanted him to think I was just another person, asking him for counsel, needing him to expend more of himself for others.  I was going to turn the tables and give some back.

I am an undefined agnostic and JJ's life is all about Jesus Christ.  Growing up in fundamentalist Christianity, it was bored into my brain that hurting people needed Christ shown to them and the only vessels that could provide that were other "true Christians" who were natural channels for God's love.  In reality, I saw the exact opposite and watched many a person suck the life out of others to gain the most happiness for themselves.  I desire to show all Christians that atheists, agnostics, godless individuals, or anyone with no belief in a higher being, could just as easily show love to others and be an encouragement for no reason other than bringing contentment to those they come in contact with.

I arrived at our dinner date and caught sight of JJ across the parking lot of the restaurant and waved enthusiastically.  What transpired for the next two hours was some of the most fun I had all year.  We swapped stories of life.  His were all about Jesus (that is his life) and mine were, as usual, superficial, humorous, with the occasional self-deprecation, and the highly infrequent jab at JJ.  We spoke of theology, politics, drug legalization, Bill Gothard, Christian standards, his past, his future, dentistry, migraines, and many more subjects I will not share.  I loved every minute of it.

After the meal, we talked for another hour, then stepped out of the restaurant and stood on the sidewalk and spoke for another twenty minutes.  We said our goodbyes and he left, a strong Christian, and I, a strong agnostic. 

For two hours, the world stood still while two individuals brought joy to each other across the great chasm of their respective creeds.  For two hours, a pastor was able to do nothing but talk and enjoy the company of an idiot, drunk on coffee, and high on the success of another whimsical idea.  For two hours, a young man, who had rejected the idea of god, listened with rapt attention at the love a pastor had for his god. 

As I listened to JJ speak of his god, I was full of rhetorical questions as to why everything he spoke about was false, very much a fairy tale, and quite nearly impossible.  But it didn't matter.  JJ was not in the business of hurting people.  Had he been, this reflection would be much different, more than likely ending up with a young man in handcuffs, sitting in a county cell.  Rather, he was in the business of loving others in his own way, no matter how misguided I felt he was.  And I was happy to nod, smile, and ask pointed questions (Okay...whatever...I don't ask legitimate questions.  I just toss in jokes.  And JJ.  Wow!  Never has a bloke laughed at my humor like he has all my life.  And I have known him since I was conceived.)

Tonight was an epic evening.

I.C.

Debunking the Fourteen Basic Needs of a Marriage: Part 1a

In the Introduction, we looked into the general idea that Bill Gothard is trying to get across in this series.  He attempts to list seven basic needs of a husband and seven, also, of the wife.  We discuss the flaw in this logic, which is, Bill treats life as if all men and women are exactly the same.  Worse yet, Bill positions this series, as well as all of his "truth" in all of his materials, as the non-optional, unquestioned, standard for finding favor with God.

Let's look at Bill's first "Basic Need" of a husband.

Basic Need One: A man needs a wife who is loyal and supportive.

At face value, this looks tame enough.  What man wouldn't want a woman that is loyal and supportive?  For that matter, what woman wouldn't want a man that does the same for her?  This second question is key.  In the "Seven Basic Needs of a Woman", Bill does not list a woman as desiring loyalty and support.

My wife, Kristine, is going to school full time while she raises six children.  She is always tired and sore at the end of the day.  According to Bill's one-sided need here, I should come home, be allowed to throw my feet up, and demand a beer.  She should oblige.

I'd rather rub her feet.  And guys, if you follow my advice, you will have a VERY loyal and supportive wife.  Notice her.  Buy her flowers (or a can of WD-40 and a hammer drill, if she's into that).  Listen to her until you drop dead.  Talk her ear off so she calls you a woman but secretly loves you for it.  But, most importantly, do nothing I tell you to do.  Figure out what your wife's needs and desires are and meet the heck out of them. 

Then, Bill expounds on his first basic need:

Helping her husband fulfill his goals and dreams is a wife’s main responsibility.

Really?  Not Kristine's.  She's nearing the ripe old age of 30 and has no college degree.  She knows it and wants it - bad!  She is now concurrently finishing up two Bachelor degrees and moving right on to her Masters.  Her main responsibility is to finish that baby up as fast as she can.  But, unlike Bill's clueless idea here, that is specifically her goal, and I am right there to back her up.  My goals and dreams are wrapped up in everything I want to do in life, everything she desires, the desires of my kids, and how it all comes together in a chaotic ball of wax.  No one person is obligated by anyone to prop up the other.  It sure is nice when we both have each other's back, though.

Remember that you are to support his vision—he establishes the goals and priorities for your family.

Um...what?  A nice pipe dream.  A family is made up of a bunch of individuals.  Those individuals are not necessarily striving for the same unified goal.  I want my kids out of my house the second they turn twelve years old - I mean eighteen.  I want my wife to be so bloody successful, she makes me look like a little pipsqueak in comparison.  My vision for my family is to get through today and hopefully tomorrow.  That is not to say that I don't have long-term visions and goals for us, but so does she.  We bring them all together and figure out what will work, what is too risky (or, in my case, what is too safe...blecht!), and what costs too much.  Then we don't do any of it, go to bed, wake up, eat, do the day thing, and start all over.

Until Kristine went back to school almost two years ago, she was a stay-at-home mom.  She had six children, and did all the daily duties of a woman that has six children and stays at home.  She had no life outside of our family and craved adult contact.  On the other hand, I went to work every day.  This meant that she knew our children a thousand times better than I did, and still does.  I love my kids, but I don't know how all of them tick but rely on her knowledge and wisdom in raising them to be wildly successful individuals. 

Bill does not speak to the man and tell him to stand behind his wife and her vision.  She is not allowed to have one.

A foolish wife will crush her husband’s spirit by resisting his decisions, and God will hold her accountable for disobedience to His instructions.  If your husband’s goals are not in harmony with Scripture, you should make a wise appeal.

Bill references Ephesians 5:22 - 24 here.  Now, many may disagree with what Paul is actually saying here, but I am going to simply take his words at face value.  Paul writes:

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord.  For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior.  Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.

Let us disregard the cultural and 2000 year old idea of submission here and focus on what is NOT in the passage.  Is there anything about disobedience?  Is there anything about God holding a "foolish" woman accountable?  Is their anything in this passage that calls a woman a fool if she does not obey Bill Gothard's foolish words?  Is there anything in this passage that reveals the "crushing of the husband's spirit" when the wife "resists his decisions"?  Is there anything in that passage about making a wise appeal (As opposed to a stupid appeal?  I bet Gothard has a large manual on the 43 steps to a wise appeal too.)?  Is there anything in that passage that talks about a husband's decisions needing to be in harmony with scripture (which didn't exist at the writing of that passage)?

If you answer "No" to all of my questions, you would be correct.  Let me sum up that passage in one sentence (sort of):

Hey wives!  Submit to your husbands!  Cause..um..Christ is the head of the church and marriage is like that.

Go ahead and argue what submission means.  Read the next part of the Ephesians chapter and prove the tit-for-tat nature of mutual submission.  Or ignore it altogether because it was simply Paul making his own conclusions.  Whatever you do, don't believe the lie that Bill is telling women.  A woman is not foolish for resisting her husband's decisions and will not be struck with a lightning bolt if she disagrees.  As I stated in the opening paragraph, Gothard does not see his words as optional.  If he did, he wouldn't call women that don't follow them "foolish".

In Part 1b, we will look into Bill's crazy notion that men and women ALWAYS think differently and, as you may suspect, due to the way a man thinks, he is the natural, meta-physically wired choice for leadership in a marriage.

Your Sins Are Forgiven, Now Take Your Clothes Off

Good.  You're most likely reading this because the title drew you in and you are convinced I am off my rocker.  Now, while I wouldn't mind at all if roughly half the population followed my "rhema", "eureka", "Word from the Lord", or whatever you want to call it, I'm simply being facetious.  Bear with me while I explain.

Adam and Eve sinned in Genesis 3.  They ate the cumquat fruit that was forbidden and it says their eyes were opened, meaning they realized something - they were naked as the noonday sun.  Oddly, nakedness had no meaning to them until they disobeyed God, who tempted them, even though he doesn't tempt mankind, until they sinned.  Thus they frantically sewed hula skirts together with fiberglass rope and created the first Scottish kilts for men.

When God came back to the garden, knowing everything, and yet not being able to find Adam and Eve, he cursed all he could find to curse and then made proper pantaloons for Adam, and a pastel blue, triple breasted, plain dress for Eve.  Adam was also given a button-down, long-sleeved shirt with crisscrossed threads clasping the collar shut, in lieu of a button.  For undergarments, Adam was allowed to wear none whereas fashioned for Eve was a burlap petticoat and large elastic granny undies.  Adam was allowed to go barefoot but Eve wore wooden clod shoes with pointed toes.

Then, the two were whisked out of the garden and made to live in misery until their death.  Unfortunately for them, all humans were cursed with sin.  Obviously, it had to be that way, being that any human being, when told NOT to touch something, doesn't even give that forbidden thing a second thought.  Thus, Adam and Eve were exceptionally sinful and we had to bear the stupidity of the first humans.  If only God had done a better job of creating the first humans. 

I know I would have slapped my rebellious wife if she had offered me the cumquat.  Then, what would have happened?  Only women would have been sinful?  Or, God would have offed Eve (or allowed Adam to) and then created woman from a second rib, leaving men with two fewer ribs than women, rather than just one?

Anyway, let's move forward.

So, man was all dirty and unrighteous and could do nothing to get all clean and righteous.  Lo and behold, along comes this guy named Jesus, God's son according to a gospel or two and not according to other gospels.  He dies on the cross to take away the sin of the world.  Some say we have to believe in that, while others say it was completed for all, so just live in the moment (or was that a 50's rocker?).  Still others claim that God only picks a few people that he likes and allows them to have a free pass to heaven while the others have to burn in hell for eternity.

Whichever camp you pick, or better yet, if you're lucky enough to be born into the right camp, you come out on the other side of the sins forgiven at the cross part, smelling like a rose.  You have no more sin!

Adam and Eve sinned in the garden and had to wear clothes.  Your sins are now forgiven - forever - which obviously means clothing is optional.  No, not optional...wearing nothing is the sign of a righteous person!

So take off your clothes and enjoy your righteousness.

Now, back to reality.  You, reader who still reads something and does not think before you accept.  Yep.  You, the follower of Bill Gothard, Doug Phillips, anything quiverfull or patriarchal, heck, any school of thought, for that matter, religious or otherwise.  Don't stop asking why.  It isn't wrong to ask questions.  To inquire as to where any basis of truth originated from.  A leader or teacher is never infallible or inerrant.  People do get things wrong and many follow them.

I trust you.  Now put your clothes back on.

Love,

I.C.

Debunking the Fourteen Basic Needs of a Marriage: Introduction

I will be quoting Bill Gothard's material in this text style and my response will be in the normal text:

Bill Gothard has published a manual on how a wife should meet her husband's seven basic needs, as well as how a husband should meet his wife's.  As you'll see, the latter part, directed at the husband, is highly disingenuous because, according to Bill Gothard, a marriage relationship is skewed completely toward the man.  The wife is only a cheerleading, supposedly willing, party.

As Bill is notorious for, he takes anything he can find in the Bible to support any point he dreams up, disregarding the context, the era, even the writer's style, etc., and sandwiches it in with his unique, sleight-of-hand, wording to numb your mind into believing he knows what he is talking about.

The unsuspecting reader may look at Bill's words as a sort of optional guidebook that might work for some and not others.  I will prove to you that this is not the case.  Bill makes it very clear that, if a woman does not follow his directions to the letter, she is a fool.  Worse yet, she is a horrible wife.

Finally, why are there not 8 basic needs?  Or 16.5 of them?  We'll never know how Bill finds his "rhemas" as he calls them.  We can only look at what he gives us and blow his theories out of the water.  You will find that much of my commentary will be decidedly personal, but that's just fine.  Why?  Because Bill makes the assumption that he is speaking for all men, and last I checked, I am a member of "all men".

Now, let's begin with a look into Bill's introduction to the Seven Basics Needs of a Husband and Wife.

Your spouse has many needs. Even if he or she is not consciously aware of all of these needs, when they are unmet, your spouse will exhibit sorrow, confusion, and frustration.


This is a setup.  It is a very effective tactic to come out at the beginning of any "new truth" and state that the receiver of that truth may not even be aware of the need for it.  By saying this, any person who wants to "debunk" the message, as I am doing, can be easily dismissed as ignorant, or even better, accused of willfully denying what is obvious truth - obvious because Bill Gothard says so.  Thus, if I say that I don't need my wife to meet my basic needs, as laid out by Bill, the author would state that I am simply unaware of my basic needs and, more importantly, the correct process or person to have those needs met.

Then Bill polishes off this introduction by proving to the reader that spousal sorrow, confusion, and frustration are symptoms of not following his formulas that will come later.  This isn't new though.  All "how-to" manuals begin this way.  They sneakily position one or many common human emotions as being negative, and then hit you with the reason for that emotion - the reason being a common trait in society, as well.  Bill is a master at this.


As the Lord shows you how to meet these needs, you can avoid strife and prosper...
No, Bill, as YOU show us how to meet those needs.


Then Bill talks to the woman:


As a wife, you are uniquely qualified to fully meet your husband’s needs and cause him to “rejoice in the wife of his youth” (Proverbs 5:18).

This is a horrible bastardization of a beautiful Solomonic proverb.  It makes me want to go to Bill, who has never been married in his life, and slap him on the back of his head.  The verse is talking to a man and telling him how to enjoy life.  The responsibility for the choosing of the enjoyment is squarely on the man.  Bill, in his finite wisdom, decides to pretend the causation is flipped and the man cannot enjoy his wife unless the wife meets the needs that Bill will later lay out.

There are days in my 10-year-old marriage where I hate the ground my wife walks on.  I can't stand the mother she came from or the person she is.  The couch is a warm and comfortable pity party for me.  But do I walk out?  Heck no!  I love my wife with every part of my being, even in those dark moments.  In those moments that matter the most, the times when I could throw it all away because I am fleetingly angry, I choose to love her.  She can do nothing at all to bring me back.  It is all up to me.  And I always end up on the other side, happier for it.  I get the sense that this was the real point of that proverb.  Requiring the woman to do all the right things so the husband enjoys her is a prison that is unnecessary and burdensome.

In His Word, God clearly establishes the responsibilities of a husband and a wife.

And there you have it.  Everything that Bill will present is now non-optional.  He used the word "clearly" after all.  A favorite of any fundamentalist guru.  If you disagree, then clearly you don't "get it".  Clearly you are not "saved".  Or clearly you are unaware of real truth.

It is the wife’s responsibility to honor and reverence her husband.

Bill gets this little idea from Genesis 3:16, as well as a few sprinklings of New Testament verses where writers, 2000 years ago, wrote their ideas of how women are supposed to act toward their husband.  With progressive understanding (namely, 2000 years of wisdom and knowledge), we can move away from archaic and backwards ideas and look ahead to the realities of how things really are in light of the complexities of life.

But, it's the Genesis 3:16 reference that really floors me.  The verse is where God is saying to Eve that he will "multiply her sorrow in childbirth" and "thy desire will be to your husband" (which I don't have a problem with at all, if you catch my drift), and finally, the part that Bill loves, "your husband will rule over you".

God was telling Eve this because she sinned.  It was her punishment for sinning.  I emphasize that twice for a very simple reason:  Why is Bill Gothard requiring honor and reverence from a wife in order to gain God's favor (as well as her husband's) by telling the woman that she is required to, because God told Eve she was required to, due to her sin?  Obviously, I find this text to be somewhat humorous.  On one hand, God punished Eve with some physical punishments that she couldn't get out of; childbearing, pain in conception (huh?), and then punishes her by saying she would be ruled over by her husband - something that is clearly (there goes that word) a choice on the husband's and wife's part.  Bill sees it as a metaphysical re-wiring of the male and female psyche.

I disagree.  And I am perfectly happy to do so.  And so is my wife.

*****

In Part 1, we will discuss the first of the seven basic needs of the husband, according to Bill Gothard: A man needs a wife who is loyal and supportive.

Pending Series: Debunking the Fourteen Basic Needs of a Marriage

Bill Gothard's homeschool organization, Advanced Training Institute (ATI), has put out two pieces of material about the seven basic needs of a husband and also the seven basic needs of a wife.

I will be writing a fourteen part series debunking these needs, one by one. 

Bill's classic fallacy is that he assumes that all men have the same needs and all women, as well.

Enjoy the series.  I know I will.

I.C.

PS:  Let me know in the comments certain issues that you would like me to address in this series.

An Ode to My Sisters

This post got me thinking...

When I was 7 years old, my single mother went to a Bill Gothard Basic Seminar and ate up every word.  Not only did she swallow every man principle he spewed forth, she also fell in love with the man.  Romantically.

This meant that, like how a fundie says, "If the KJV says jump, then jump....only afterward do you pray and ask God if you jumped high enough", she felt the same way about the G-man.

We began to dress like Bill wanted us to.  For the boys, it wasn't so bad.  It essentially meant that we couldn't wear shorts (which was only sparsely enforced due to the need to have gym clothes in high school), T-shirts alone, and shirts not buttoned to the top.  Even one button was slightly scandalous, though we did it anyway.

We were very poor because Bill wouldn't allow my mother to go out and get a job.  He said that it was the woman's place to stay at home.  Thus, we lived off of welfare and handouts throughout my entire childhood.  This meant we shopped at all the local thrift stores and wore the last decade's clothes.

When everyone was wearing tight jeans in the 90's, we were wearing their old bell-bottomed corduroys.  When the Air Jordan's came out with those cool full-width see-through air pockets, we were wearing flat-bottomed FILA's, given to us by the professional tennis player, David Wheaton.  He must have needed to clear out his old dusty inventory.  The bell bottoms weren't so bad because we could pin them tight around our ankles.  If you were creative enough, nobody would be the wiser.

It was different for my sisters.

Modesty for them was the boring old jumper.  Sometimes it was denim.  Other times, it was a print with huge flowers.  If it wasn't a jumper, it was the dreaded coolots.  Or, the skirt that had so much material in it, you could make curtains for three large windows.  Some of them may have been curtains at one time. 

My sisters' clothing was out of style before they ever bought them (or were given them...most likely people throwing away their ancient closet stuffers).  They were washed so often, all the material was severely threadbare.  The hems were shaggy with white strings dripping off of them like icicles.  In a Minnesota winter, being forced to wear a skirt was torture.  They could not wear snow pants so went with leg warmers.  That brought the house down with laughter.  People hadn't worn leg warmers for centuries.

While in school, I knew my sister's were coming around without having to see them.  All you had to do was listen for the "swoosh swish" of their skirts and you knew.  They even wore them for gym clothes.  My mother petitioned the gym teachers to allow a religious exception for my sisters to wear skirts while me and the other boys got to wear the correct wardrobe.

From what I remember, my sisters were so picked on that they hated school.  They were always hanging their heads when passing students in the halls.  They had very few friends.  Those they did have were foreign and could hardly speak English, and barely knew the latest styles.  They suffered much.

I've never put myself in their shoes to understand what they went through.

Now, after reading Darcy's post, I think I know.

I am so sorry.

What books are you reading?

So, I've left patriarchy, legalistic Christianity and much more behind in my life.  My wife and kids are much happier now, except for the fact that sometimes, I'm floating away on my thoughts and reasoning, not sure where to land my feet. 

The book that provided the final kick in the rump to get me over the fence to freedom was "A Matter of Basic Principles" by Don and Joy Venoit with Ron Henzel.  It exposed the real man, Bill Gothard, whom I call Big G., Billy Boy G., the god man, the Father of Patriarchy, etc., etc.  Not only did the book expose the man and his evil organization, but it also walks you through real grace and true Christianity.

I have spoken personally with Don Venoit and he gave me some counsel once that I hold dear to my heart, even today.  He runs the organization Midwest Christian Outreach, which exposes cults and aberrational teachings as part of its ministry.  His availability to answer questions and even go to bat for you is a true definition of what it means to be a Christian.

Anyway, I am interested in bringing my feet down to earth and begin studying even more.  My wife would be the first one to be happy with that.

What books have you read or are you reading that have helped you reject false teaching and enter into true freedom in Christ? Even books that solidify your rejection of false teaching by exposing the people behind it or even a clear explanation of the rabble itself.

Title, author, and ISBN would be most helpful.  Also, give a quick (or lenghthy) summary of the content.

Thank you so much, in advance!

Father's Day, Undeserved

If I could have been around during the time of the ancient Egyptians, I might have begged them to create a 364 day year, rather than a 365.  In my view, for me anyway, Father’s Day can skip right on by, unnoticed.  I do not deserve it in the least.

Before any of my readers boot up some comments that vehemently disagree with the above statement, let me explain.  By the end of this post, you will agree with my premise and run me out of town with pitchforks.  I thank God, every day, that my wife and children have not done just that.

Two weeks before I married my bride, we discovered that we were pregnant.  I have watched hundreds of movies, read thousands of books, and possibly have watched millions of commercials that portray the moment of discovery of life in the womb.  One thread that I have noticed is that, if the mother and father of the impending child are in a loving relationship, news of the baby in the womb is a moment of joy.  Tears of happiness are frequently reported as being the norm.  The glow of the unequaled uniqueness of the new beginnings of human life between a couple is unparalleled.

At that point in my life, that was most definitely not my reaction.  What happened next has been etched in my brain as being descriptive of how I saw my children then and how I mostly view them now.  I wrapped my arms around my bride-to-be and sighed heavily, saying, “Well, guess we need to start saving.”

That elicited a cool response from her that I did not understand at the time.  We had excellent communication – meaning we argued very well and very loudly – and I learned quickly that I was much different than her.  She loved children.  I did not.

I grew up in a Bill Gothard household.  No, not a Christian home, but rather, a Bill Gothard home.  Every little word and thought that came from his mouth and materials and those that followed him, became scripture in our minds.  One foundational “theological” idea that became a part of me was that children were a blessing from God.  While I do not disagree with that statement, the way that we were taught that God required us to practice that thought is what has destroyed my relationship with my children now, and what I will be fighting against for the rest of my fatherhood – hoping one day to crawl into the sunshine of loving and enjoying every moment I am given with my six beautiful offspring.

We were taught that God opened and closed the womb.  This meant that birth control of any form was wrong.  All married couples were required to have a large family as a badge of holiness.  A man, having his quiver full of these blobs of flesh, was akin to being an apostle of Jesus Christ, given the tongues of fire at Pentecost, enabling him to sit in the gates of the city and wield his power, wisdom, and influence on those less capable than he.

It was impressed on us that finances were of no consequence.  In fact, to worry about proportionate amounts of money to children was sin of the gravest kind.  You were to squirts out these lumps of flesh every nine or so months and God would magically provide all your resources, leaving you happy and unworried, all the days of your life.

Intimate love between husband and wife was secondary at best and usually or always dead last to nonexistent.  A husband never had the chance to get to know his wife without the responsibilities of another human being at stake.  There were always babies to take care of and kids to deal with.

This, as well as many other “principles”, was supposed to embody true happiness.

So we lived it.  We had our first daughter seven months after we were married.  We had financial troubles and fought.  We had our second daughter the next year.  We had financial troubles and fought.  We had our first son the next year.  We had financial troubles and fought.  My wife miscarried a year later.  I shrugged my shoulders in relief and could not relate to her grief.  We had financial troubles and fought.  We had another daughter and another son.  We had financial troubles and fought.  Then our lives turned from stressful to absolutely unbearable, financially, emotionally, physically, and any other aspect you can put your finger on.  During that time, my wife became pregnant with our sixth and final child – a daughter.

She, being completely and utterly overwhelmed with the responsibilities of her quiver full life, wept.

 I woke up.

Why was my wife crying when she had told me that she wanted a large family?  Why was I indifferent to every single child that entered our lives?  Why did we agree on a perfect number of twenty-nine children and then grief strikes when we discovered that we were coming up on six?

At every birth in the hospital delivery room, I was very good at being the man my wife needed during the delivery.  But, every time the child came forth, I would internally rip myself to shreds with iron hooks and a machete, knowing full well that my heart was cold.  I had absolutely no love for that lump of flesh.  None.  It was just another check mark in my own personal quiver.  I hated myself with new vigor with each addition to our family.  I felt I was heartless and unloving.  I saw that my children were being loved by their mother and “put up with” by their father.  A good recipe for them to hate me in the end.

I was taught that children were a badge of glory for me.  I wasn’t taught how to love them.  I was taught that my children needed to be spanked for every thought, word, and deed that I disagreed with.  I wasn’t taught how to give them a hug and learn to laugh at how their mind worked and the small joys of growing up.  I was taught that a baby needed to think like an adult and have its will under complete control toward its superior.  I wasn’t taught how to cry with them when they were teething, weep with them when they had a high fever, wince with them when they got a shot, almost die with them when they contracted whooping cough from other stupid non-immunizing families, laugh with them when they wanted to be giggly during a meal prayer, feed them when they were hungry, load them up with sugar just because sugar was delicious.  I was taught many things.  And I turned out a failure of a father.

I have learned to hate my children.  They don’t clean when I want them to.  They don’t go to bed when told.  They ride in the street on their bikes when they know it’s forbidden.  They unroll toilet paper until it is down to the cardboard roll and then put it in a bucket which they fill with water and then dump down the toilet, which plugs the toilet, water spilling all over the floor.  They draw on my walls with everything from pencils to permanent markers to charcoal briquettes.  They leave pockets full of crayons in their pants which colors a load pretty well in the heat of a dryer.  They spill their milk.  They wet their diapers.  They throw up.  They drool.  They don’t clean.  Did I mention they don’t clean?

In other words, they are children.  Kids.  Little people.  Not grown up.  Not adults.  Not as mature as I am.  Learning.  Loving life.  Loving to touch things that need to be touched to experience the experiential.  Needing to taste everything.  Needing to try everything once to see if it is something that should be tried again.  Making mistakes.  Doing things right.  Desiring the love of their daddy.  Getting the love of their mommy.  Wondering why their daddy is always yelling at them.  Seeing that their daddy’s love is conditional, proportional to the cleanly state of the house.  Crying inside, wishing their daddy would love them.  Crying openly in a dark hallway, begging for a perfect daddy when the stupid, imperfect daddy yells at them that he wants perfect kids.

My wife and I rectified the “problem” of birthing too many children than we could handle about six months ago.  It finally opened my eyes to the fact that the six I had was all that I was ever going to have.  I realized I didn’t want to mess it up.  So I purposed that I was going to turn a new leaf.  I still purpose that every week or so, consistently moving one step forward and two steps backward.

I watch in disbelief as my wife’s love for my children grows deeper by the day.  She LOVES them, faults and all.  I WANT to love them despite what I deem are faults.  More than likely, what I see as faults are just curious little people running around, loving life and desiring to be loved.

I hate myself, as defined by fatherhood.  I do not deserve to be a daddy to my kids.  They deserve something much better than me.  They deserve love.  They deserve a dad who wants to play catch with them on the lawn when it needs to be mowed.  They deserve a daddy that will spill his cup of milk when they spill theirs, just to get a laugh and let them know that it’s okay.  They deserve much more than me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I play with my kids here and there.  We wrestle.  I’m a fun daddy.  They love me with all of my faults.  They show me what true and unconditional love is, on a minute by minute basis.  But I cannot buy that type of love forever.  They will soon grow up and need more.  They will need what I desire to have on the outside, actually on the outside, rather than just a pipe dream theory that I am working on.

As you can see, I am in the beginning stages of healing.  Bill Gothard taught me to see children as a reflection of myself.  He never taught me who children really were.  They are not objects to be formed and molded in my hands.  They are there as human beings, a beautiful creation of a mixture of my wife and I, desiring to be infused with love, knowledge, hope, courage, wisdom and happiness.  If any one person in this family needs to be malleable, it is me.  And I am ready and willing.

I am very slowly learning to love my children.  In ten years, they will look back and see two entirely different daddies.  The hateful, despicable, selfish, haughty, loud one, and then the one that mattered.

One day, I will celebrate Father’s Day with joy in my heart – knowing without a shadow of a doubt that that day was well deserved.  I will know that by the vibrancy in my children’s souls.  But most importantly, I will know it by the dozen eggs cracked and spilling their yellow liquid all over the kitchen floor, which I just skated through in my socks, to the squealing laughter of my beautiful children.