So, there are a lot of things I would love to talk about regarding this topic but I want to focus on the main thing with a little bit of backstory and a tad bit of advice. Brace yourself. It is lengthy and there may be some typos but there are a lot of answers to burning questions of those who want to know why I no longer attend a church. Well here it is y’all! You are reading it from the source herself! 🥳
There is a brief version that skips over backstory.
But before I begin...
ATTENTION: Please understand I am not here to bring down or attack the congregation. In fact, I’ve been hesitant to publicly write or speak about it because I didn’t want any pastor, staff member, attendee, etc. to inflate the false presumption that I’m trying to speak negatively of the church or tarnish the reputation. Whenever someone had left while I was still serving and in full attendance, ridiculing comments were made by different individuals of the church about their choice to leave if it wasn’t approved by a leader’s knowing or the individuals didn’t agree. I thought, I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that. But that is an issue I’ve seen in other churches, too. Regardless, it would be remiss of me to discredit their attributes to the foundation in my relationship with Jesus. They get endless props from me for that. I give credit when and where it is due. But no human determines my steps. That’s God’s will.
Unfortunately, I’ve been wronged by many—from family, old friends, coaches, employers, organization sisters, past dudes, teachers and the list continues. To insult those who have inflicted the pain is never ever on my agenda. Honestly, I suppress and ignore that they had any effect on me. That would be empowering them. That would mean I gave them control. Oh naw! That’s not the wave. I‘ve been thoroughly improving the ugly place of vulnerability. (I’m outgrowing this allergy.) That includes and is not limited to admitting the pain I’ve felt from relationships that aren’t just romantic.
Now, I will admit... ONE time I had bad-mouthed this individual in college because I thought they were purposely intending to tarnish my title as campus queen, to get me suspended and to catch a hazing charge. I was livid with the situation. It was a whole mess and lie. I was found beyond not guilty but innocent due to the evidence I had and testimonies I wasn’t ever there during the recorded instances. So, yeah! I had talked my talk and I wasn’t backing down from expressing myself. Yet, the opportunity presented itself where they allowed me to genuinely apologize and to seek their forgiveness when I discovered the truth of the situation by listening to their side and the story of others. Within in moments, our friendship was mended and restored. They all are people who I still keep in contact with.
(Forgiveness is a great thing by the way, y’all!)
But back on track... The important thing I want people to know is that I wouldn’t dare belittle the church’s congregation or its leadership. I cannot emphasize enough they’ve been crucial in the trajectory of my life in ministry and in my journey of becoming. Everyone saw and knows how devoted I am to my faith and knew how involved I was with my church. I wasn’t playing about answering the call of ministry on my life. It was too fulfilling!
Plus, my mama would knock my head off my shoulders! Listen hear... That lady might be small but, man, she’s a heavy-weight champion hitter. Float like a butterfly and hit like a rhinoceros! She’s taken on my dad—who’s twice her size, my older siblings and whoever else. But you were not and are not catching me being body-slammed by my mama. Noooo siiiirrrrr! *In IG Famous Dezy’s voice.* But she taught me that you are not to talk negatively of a church or the leadership. Addressing a concern is ok but slander is prohibited. “That is between the senior pastors, its leaders and the Lord Himself. You pray about it and you leave it alone.” I listened to my mom. We’re a God-fearing household and that’s that on that. Disrespecting what’s the Lord’s is a no-no.
Another thing, not one person or an army could run me away from a place. Call it pride but I’m a fighter. I don’t back down from pursuit, position, being a leader or being myself because someone doesn’t like me or they’re choosy when they want to speak to me without an audience. As my granny would say, “You don’t scare nobody. You’ain’a ghost. Oh shoooot. Even then sum‘body would see right thru ya.” I don’t fold for anyone either. As my gramma would say, “Oh yeah? Well tell me which way you want me to go so I can tell you where to put your direction.” Old people are funny!
Although, I do not follow the church’s progression or have the mere desire to do so, I’ll always celebrate and acknowledge who they were to me at some point! But this is my story and I am going to hold myself to the highest standard of maintaining the integrity Holy Spirit Himself has awarded me and my parents have instilled in me to still tell my story.
First, let’s disclaim some things before continuing...
ADVISORY: Allow me to be very concise and firm without any room for interpretation for anyone who chooses to read this: You have chosen to read my blog (or to be prying) and to NOT come against me through discounting my experience. This advisory is for any and everyone who has the wacky presumption they have the authority to do so. For those who are well acquainted, who have witnessed and, even, have spoken life into it: you are aware of my lioness spirit, straight from the blood of the Lamb, is a force to be reckoned with and she has been quietly waiting and preparing to roar against anyone who trespasses the boundaries in attempt to silence me. That’s not to serve as a challenge. It is a caution. So, be aware, discerning, wise and 101% Spirit-led; you’ve been warned. Again, with the utmost level of integrity, I am not here to slander or accredit any group or even one person regarding the reason I left. No. I am sharing what I had to focus on to not be bitter towards people or God. When you thoroughly read it with a tender, unoffendable heart, you’ll understand and know the why 😉 was and has always been bigger than the church, its leadership, the congregation, the mission and myself.
Backstory: My first time visiting the church was in 2014 while on winter break. I called an old friend to ask her could she come and pick me up to go to church with her. She was excited! She did and we went. Before even getting into the sanctuary, I fell in love with the church! Greeters were friendly and welcoming. Their attire was ‘come comfortable as you are.’ (Not a common dress code from what I knew about certain churches, especially the ones I attended when I was younger.)
The praise and worship music was inclusive of what people consider “white” Christian music. One of the worship leaders had his guitar looking so cool and like a male version of Lisa Bonet. (Aha! You know I love you bro if you read this. The jokes will never let up though.) I only saw acoustics being played in “white churches” without the accompanying of an organ piano being played. (Side note: I’m biracial—black mom and white dad. I grew up being accustomed to both cultures in and outside of the church.) It was refreshing to see this in a congregation of predominantly black members. Speaking of the congregation, it was and has been diverse in most demographics. Different ages. A speckle of snow here and there. A little Goya power. The people who will politely correct you they are not black but representing the Mother Land.
I’ll never forget the pastor’s message who spoke that Sunday. It was Christmas season. We know that Christians celebrate the Advent (coming/return of the Messiah) through celebratory festivities. I loved the demo of little gift boxes placed in all seats before the service started. The pastor emphasized the greatest gift you can give and receive cannot be wrapped up in a box. And when you think about it... there’s truth. Love... it cannot be wrapped up in a box. Joy... it cannot be wrapped up in a box. Forgiveness... it cannot be wrapped up in a box. Peace and comfort... they cannot be wrapped up in a box. For parents and Christians, the gift of a baby... the gift of salvation... they cannot be wrapped up in a box. Forever, I’ll cherish that sermon. They actually became one of my favorite pastors because of their character and iconic fashion sense with nerdy tendencies. (It’s love for them, too.) But the church left their impact.
Anyways...
Time passed. I was in college at the time and attending church wasn’t priority but I knew in time and when it was time, I would return to that specific church because I felt the presence of God. (It’s fairly difficult to describe this knowing but you’ll feel the security in the atmosphere when you know how to test the Spirit. Also another topic for another day.)
Fast forward...
October 7, 2017, I made the vow and commitment to celibacy. A month later, I returned to the church to frequently attend. One particular Sunday, I spotted one of the pastors and I was in awe of their marriage. It’s odd how I have insight beyond the surface. It was impossible to not notice this dynamic couple with their adorable baby. Later, there was an altar call and I felt the gravitational pull to answer it. (An altar call is when the pastor of the church or sometimes approved visiting pastors, connects a needed prayer which oftentimes relates to the topic/scripture of the message they conveyed moments ago to help build the numbers of God’s Kingdom BEFORE the church’s data collection. There’s more to it but that’s the gist.)
Note: I like to disclaim some things because I have new believers and non-believers who read my blogs and I speak heavy Christianese. They may not understand or never heard of certain things or understand it.
Continuing... This pastor was the person who prayed for me and in time became a mentor. I was thrilled because their words remarked the great things the Lord has for me as a mighty woman of God. This pastor would be one of a handful who would help guide me for a while. I asked and prayed to God, “Show me this is the church I am to commit to.” The time came and it became my church home.
I’m going to give you a timeline regarding my activity in the church and spiritual journey so you’re not misled and understand where I stood throughout my duration at the church.
End of February 2018–Became a member/partner (a month’s process) and immediately started serving in children’s (age 4-5) ministry.
Middle of March 2018—Became the storyteller/speaker in (age 4-5) children’s ministry; started to take certain classes; joined certain groups; I was baptized, too.
End of May 2018—Became the team leader in children’s ministry to schedule others; joined discipleship; began to channel impartation of my prophetic spiritual gift. (Reference will be given later. Please keep reading.)
June 1, 2018—Renewed celibacy. Thoroughly active in the ministries in which I was involved and led.
June or July 2018—Late night street evangelizing.
Fall 2018– Apologetics (learning how to defend faith in a beneficial way.)
September 2018– Attended a retreat to improve my relationship with Christ through uncovering and facing trauma; officially joined students (middle-high school) ministry as a leader.
November 2018–Became an altar prayer.
January 2019–Moved from age group 4-5 to elementary (1st-5th) as a main speaker for selected service times.
February 2019- Asked to monitor and collect data for administrative staff as a volunteer.
March 2019– Had my very first prophetic dream.
April 2019– Left my full-time job to commit to full-time ministry.
Summer 2019- Wave of prophetic dreams.
August 2019- First mission trip to Africa.
September 25th & 27th, 2019- Two important prophetic dreams.
Oct 1, 2019- Exit meeting to resign and to leave the church.
That timeline is to showcase that I experienced a supernatural level of exponential growth in less than two years. It is to show that through my zealous chase after Jesus, I was trusted to lead in a short time span. Understand, it takes time to do this. I mean months or years to be entrusted with leadership positions the way I had been. I served in and started to lead in several areas/ministries as my relationship with God intensified. Can you say levels of glory? The leaders trusted me because they witnessed how quickly I was becoming fruitful and aligning with the Holy Spirit. They knew a move of Abba (Father) was on my life and, even, publicly declared it in one service with a blessing to follow. Their investment in me would always be honored by the Lord. The leaders of the church were held to God’s regard to shepherd me in to help protect me and to supply my growth.
But the moment I said, “Yes,” to work full-time ministry... Literally, all hell broke loose. I was anticipating this because ya girl was getting into alignment of God’s calling to devote my all to full-time ministry. Now, I won’t go into detail but I was experiencing so much oppression that looking back, I was to not only leave my job with automotive detailing but I was to leave my church, too. I swore it was Satan posing as Holy Spirit’s prompting because Satan deceives. He’s messy. And I’d be darned homie was trying to run me up outta my church. The devil is indeed a liar. So, I ignored it. Eventually, wavering levels of depression started to sneak in. Trauma was triggering left and right within the functions of the church and my personal life.
Throughout the summer, I kept having prophetic dreams of my pastor approaching me at my desk, falling to their knees in dire need to pray for them and to cast out the demon that was daunting them. I thought it to be strange because why does this person of God need an office manager aka receptionist aka me to cast out their demon? I had power behind my prayers but me? In obedience and respecting the urgency, I said, “OK, sure.” The moment I was about to declare the demon to be dismissed, a staff member walks up to us to disrupt. They looked at me with eyes screaming, “Help me”. But they got up and left. I resumed to working in my dream. I woke up.
Another dream came to me and was very similar. I was about to do my “rounds” to check on certain things in the office space and building. Before I leave the office to other parts of the building, my pastor approaches me again in the same way with the same request. This time, I order everyone in the office to start praying fervent prayers to protect themselves. I start to call out the demon and it comes out and screams at me in anguish. I did not budge. Who did he THOUGHT he was? I’m a warrior in Jehovah’s army. Chiilllleeee, go’on somewhea. You not seeing me demon. (For visual, the demon looks a lot like one of the shadowy figures from Princess and the Frog or Birdbox.) I still continue to pray for my pastor. The demon starts to walk towards staff members and becomes furious that there’s a barrier of prayer he can’t break. The one staff member who interrupts from the other dream walks in. The demon walks to them and they start conversing. The demon looks at me, enraged. And I demanded, “Leave. You don’t belong here.” He leaves and the staff member follows. I woke up.
With those dreams, I prayed anything that wasn’t of godly character to be removed from the church and would leave it at the feet of Jesus. (That’s just another way to say I prayed and left it alone). I didn’t feel comfortable to entrust anyone about those dreams except for my mom. They were heavy and burdensome. She taught me a lot about applying faith throughout the entirety of my life and God gave her the earthly role of being my mom for a Kingdom-purpose. She encouraged me to stay in prayer and stay prayed up with anointing oil (which is used to show you are apart from others as a covering of protection and appointment, sometimes). I did.
In the dead middle of summer, I caught viral pneumonia in both lungs. Amidst this pandemic of SARS-CoV-2, I have been more concerned to not catch pneumonia again. It was awful feeling the immense pain I experienced with my respiratory system. It doesn’t help any I have asthma, too. The purpose behind my pneumonia diagnosis was to be slowed down and to spend time with Abba Father. There’s no doubt, I believe God is using this virus outbreak to do the same and other things regarding edification of Heavenly Dominion. Throughout that time, I kept receiving the prompting to leave the church. I wasn’t understanding. Satan, get thee behind me, my dude! I ain’t gon’ nowhea! I couldn’t imagine leaving. It would’ve ripped my heart apart. So, I ignored it because I just did not think it was Holy Spirit.
I continue to have dreams about casting out demons, delivering people and even where I’d be sometime in the future. Now, this isn’t witchcraft. I don’t practice dark magic. I practice Fruit testing. I’m committed to Light and Truth. So much to the fact, someone who does operate in dark magic will ask me for permission before they speak about my life. (I wish people in the church would adopt this strategy of discernment and respect. Thinking they’re hearing from the Lord when they’re totally off. Don’t speak into someone’s life if you aren’t led, please.) People in dark magic know where I stand with my identity and cannot be moved. Developed and matured Christians are imparted with things we call spiritual gifts and even roles (inside of a church or operating in the gift outside of a church). For those who want to do research, here are scriptural references which where they can be found: Ephesians 4, 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12. You can also simply Google: “spiritual gifts” and “five fold ministry”.
In Zambia, those kind of dreams ceased for a while. Maybe because the peace was too potent. There’s something about hearing God so clearly in Africa. But I did have dreams it was time to leave the church. It was literally just me leaving from my desk and walking outside into a warm light. Some days, looking out into the flood plains during dry season, I heard His whisper, too. At this time, I was leaning towards it could’ve been the Holy Spirit. But I was still uncertain. Thoughts flogged my mind, “God won’t tell you to leave my/a/the church you’re at.” I literally heard that from many leaders in the general church. Again, I heard remarks and comments about people who had previously left and the things current members would say about them... I didn’t want to be apart of that group because the bantering wasn’t always nice or settling to hear. But here it is... prompting to leave the church. I was confused. I was wrecked.
A young gentleman apart of the student ministry and apart of the school, told me on the last day, “Zamaya sinde,” which is siLozi for safe travels, “and Ebony, wherever the Lord may lead you, you will do great things for Him. Stay blessed.” Those were words my heart needed to hear and it’s amazing God used a teenager to say that to me.
Upon my return, depression HIT. It smacked me right in my face. I’m surprised it didn’t leave a mark. I returned to a lot of pressure I was facing. My mom’s vehicle she shared with me was totaled by a drunk driver in the end of May. My dad had a near-death experience that I took very hard a week later. Strain on my family was intensifying and arguments came in barging to disturb our family‘s tranquility. One of my close friends at the time started acting weird and we paused on communicating for some time. Financing became harder. And on top of it all, I started to loath coming to church—work and fellowshipping. Now, I am not afraid to admit that I had to work on strengthening my gentleness. I’ve always been reminded I should be more dove-like. I have a hard time not speaking with militant characteristics. My Meyer-Briggs test shows that I’m commander personality. I’m working on it. As more time passes, I’ll get better. But the only ministries that kept me sane were related to children and teenagers.
Upon my return from Zambia, I had the chance to have a meeting and my overdue 90-day review. I expressed to the respective pastor the good and the bad. It was imperative to me that I began with myself. I was able to share what I was aware of pertaining to myself, my weaknesses, what I needed to work on, improving my position, resolutions to my department and even my walk. They commended me how I always kept my relationship with God at the forefront of all I did. I was honored to know they noticed. One thing I was able to discuss was the infrastructure of professionalism and sharing it from my volunteer experience. Having over 10 years of administrative experience, more than thousand of hours devoted to community service, starting at the local Boys and Girls Club at 13, working in 5 different professional fields within 7 years, having to be a sit-in member of the SGA and President’s cabinet of my alma mater, and assisting my advisor who coordinates college and career expo day during the CIAA basketball tournament week, I saw the operations’ infrastructure as poorly structured and fragile.
Constantly, I found myself observing the lack of delegation, burnout from staff members and even volunteers with an overall atmosphere of procrastination. Staff members were doing tasks that had nothing to do with their position or department. Events were done last minute. It wasn’t solid. Granted, I understand being resourceful and adaptable with what you have to divide and conquer but you can never grow and fully develop a team to championship and its players in their skillset when someone is doing something they aren’t gifted or graced to do. That’s confusion. Order is necessary in all organizations.
I love to illustrate. So stay with me. It’s going to get there.
Take a first string football line-up for example. Let’s focus on the defense line. You are not going to place the left tackle at strong safety. I mean... You just aren’t. You are not going to put your cornerback as the mid-linebacker. Let alone, replace a 3rd string end lineman with a healthy and high performing 1st string end lineman. And you definitely are not placing your 2nd string full back at quarterback. The only time you’d want to switch these positions or have the players practice in these positions is when a coach notices a new talent or a hidden talent and they want to strengthen it. But you would not put them in position until they had time to develop it. You can practice. You can test them. But you won’t change their position until they are ready and it will be effortless. That’s immature coaching and very poor insight and use of strategy when you prematurely do something to “cover ground”.
University of Maryland had a year where they were running out of quarterbacks. Using different players who were equipped in other positions as quarterback. That season showed for the coach’s decisions, too.
Or let’s talk about the Golden State dynasty. You were not going to have Steph play the center in the finals. It sounds out right silly because it is. Ideally, you aren’t going to play Calvin against A.I. either. That’s why movies are movies. Oh! I have another. Banking on Shaq at the foul shout line. HA! That was a hearty laugh. Or how about have Adam Jones playing at short stop in World Series’ playoffs when he’s been noted for his execution as an outfielder? Or not having Sandy Koufax come in as the sweep-up man to knock out the last inning for a solid W. You just won’t do it.
Enough sports talk.
Ladies, you are not going to use dollar store eyelashes if you have some bomb mink lashes. Those mink lashes serves its purpose, honey. You also aren’t going to let the lady who has happy Edward Scissorhands trim your hair in the salon when you know there’s someone who is really mellow and careful at trimming your ends. You also are not trusting anyone with your eyebrows that don’t have a rapport to fleek them joints!
Or let’s go biological and Biblical! The hand is to operate as the hand and the eye is to function as the eye. If the hand was to act like the eye, there would be no need for the hand. Though, in fact, there is a need for a hand in order for the full body of Christ (the body of the church) to systematically work together as one entity. Same for the lung and kidney.
Understand, I am not talking negatively about the church I used to attend. No. Absolutely not. In fact, this is a common issue for a lot of congregations. I just read a blog about a previous pastor who had such an awful experience and it drove them to know they’ll never work full-time ministry again because they encountered better and their answered prayer elsewhere. This also happens in businesses and organizations. Just look at the comedic relief of The Office! Michael makes ir-rash decisions.
Nevertheless, the respective pastor valued my feedback and insight. They agreed. They also commended that I was resolute to offer suggestions as I expressed my thoughts (because I had notes) and not coming to complain. Slowly, change started to happen. But I was still facing the prompting to leave. Truly, I did not know who to go to within the leadership that I could trust and they wouldn’t disregard what I was hearing. It was getting tougher.
OK! IT’S GO TIME! Grab whatever snack is left during this quarantine. Eat up and read up! This is where my life turns into an episode of Greenleaf or As The World Turns. Not really but I want to make my life seem as dramatic because I low-key am a bit dramatic.
From Sunday, September 22, 2019 through Tuesday, October 1, 2019 my life drastically changed. I ran into an issue where my dad couldn’t and wouldn’t take me to church/work anymore because it was wearing on the car. I contacted four people who I needed to communicate what was going on because my Sunday tasks would affect them and the last thing I wanted was for “I’m embarrassed. Fix it.” message being sent out to anyone. I was upset. Literally, I kept catching myself Kim K cry because I was a nervous wreck. Three of the four had genuinely prayed for me and pointed out that I direct myself back to Jesus.
The last person I had contacted made me realize how much there wasn’t a mandated priority of all staff members committing their heart to minister to anyone in a time of need. How they responded rubbed my spirit the wrong way. I’ve never experienced anything like it from anyone at the church. There was no compassion, gentleness or an extended prayer or cliché faith-filled statement to be made. They said, “So what are you going to do?” My dude, what? Huh? And I understand not everyone will like me. I don’t want everyone to like me. But you get over that in ministry (Luke 6:32-36). My heart dropped into my stomach. I officially experienced the infamous church hurt I had miraculously dodged for years.
In the Christian world, we love to use the weakest, crutch-worthy of an excuse statement that we’re human and not perfect. That helps us justify and gloss over our fault. But I highly doubt come the second seat of judgement Jesus would be OK we used the excuse of being a human. Maybe it’s just me... But I don’t remember the Pharisees (religious folk) or even His disciples (followers of Jesus) being excused from not having the heart to do His Father’s work while He was on earth ministering. He addressed and corrected them. Read Luke 7:36-50. If they didn’t receive correction, their heart remained closed off to the new covenant He was offering.
For those who don’t know, Christians are held to be responsible upon their relationship with JESUS and not man. Due to the declaration of your mouth and reverence of He is Lord, EVERY believer of Jesus is the REPRESENTATION of Him simply because of a verbal agreement. When you become water-marked... OH! Believe He is holding you accountable. You are an ambassador. Wear that with a badge of dignity and honor. You are to not rescind people’s souls to be introduced to salvation but to welcome them into an incredible, outstanding, incomparable eminence of unwavering love they won’t find anywhere else but in the belief of Jesus (1 John 4:7-21). Jesus says, “If you love Me, you’ll keep My commandments.” He’s talking about the main two He had given. True repentance shows for it. I heard way too many times this staff member wasn’t nice to people way before, and I mean years, I came to the church. I experienced it for myself.
That moment was the first time I felt comfortable with following the prompting to leave. This was something I shared in my exit meeting.
Furious with the conversation I just had, I needed to pray and worship like crazy. But first, I had to call someone so I could get to church and work. This person has been given the heavenly position as my big sister. I asked could she come to pick me up and to take me to church. Now, my big sister lived 20 minutes away but only 8 minutes from the church. I lived 25 minutes away from the church. She came to get me and dropped me off at church by 7. I don’t know how she managed because she drives a regular sedan, but she did. Now, there is a dire need for Christians like her. THAT was sacrifice. It was not convenient. And she truly didn’t mind because she, too, knew my calling. It was one of her many ways of investing in me and helping me. Ministry isn’t convenient but you shouldn’t feel burdened by it to despise it—which was happening to me.
That morning, everyone picked up that my spirit wasn’t beaming as bright as it normally does. Depression was showing up and showing out. And I wasn’t hiding it. I broke down and balled my eyes to one of my coworkers. They were so embracing and again, they ministered to me. They pointed me back to Jesus. I had enough of masking what I was experiencing. At my semi-worse, this group I called my family was about to see a version of me they’ve never seen before.
That Monday, I did a “no call, no show.” I turned off my phone. I had the attitude that screamed, Forget that church! Forget full-time ministry, too! Granted, I am a loving person and a Christian who loves to hold myself accountable but best believe I didn’t use the word forget. You know what word I used... Very unprofessional for a “no call, no show” but I was fed up. I didn’t care if I was released or not. Man, LET ME GO! I am my own Moses, do you hear me?! I was sick of the church and staff. I woke up to a pounding of my door and it was a mentor. They popped up P.O. style. I was impressed. Wow. Someone actually cares, I thought with sincere sarcasm. They made sure I was good and didn’t do anything like commit suicide. I was just sleeping. I needed it. We had a heart-to-heart. I appreciated them for that. But that conversation didn’t move me to not follow the prompting of leaving.
The next day, a Tuesday, I had come to work by taking the commuter bus. I trekked from the nearest light-rail to get to work. In the office, I was minimal in conversation. Some people cared to asked how I was. I was unfiltered. I managed to let my favorite five people on staff know God was preparing my heart to leave. They tried to convince me to stay. No luck. My mind was made up. (Cues old spiritual song: “I've got my mind made up and I won't turn back. Because I want to see my Jesus someday.” Look at y’all knowing your spirituals! I’m proud of y’all! Pat on the back. Gold star for you!)
One of my favored elders picked up on my disposition when they saw me in the lobby that Wednesday and they asked me, “Are you ok?” I replied, “Nope.” They could see it in my eyes. They were Spirit-led and very wise. They tenderly probed to ask me did I want to talk about it. I respectfully replied, “I hate to say this but I don’t really trust you to talk about it.” Sulked, they pulled me in to hug me and I felt their quick prayer of protection starting to cover me because they knew I was leaving. “I love you, Ebony,” they said with a heavy heart-broken tone. With a hearty smirk, I replied, “I love you, too.”
Oh, so I am fair in my story, I’m going to share where it could be seen I was out of line. I was asked to pick up another task for another staff member before given an administrative leave of absence for saying no. (Yes, y’all know what that meant! Resignation was coming! I didn’t care though. I said what I said.) Due to my mental and emotional state, I directed to them I would not pick up any more tasks because it would not be wise. To pick up any more responsibilities or tasks would send me to the edge of snapping on the staff and I didn’t want that to happen. Up to par with my self-awareness, I knew what would send me over the edge. However, I wasn’t too far removed and it wasn’t long ago I was shamelessly sinning. My old self would take on any reason to show tail. Let alone, it bothered me that I was being pressured to delve into a commitment with a therapist within 48 hours without time to look for a therapist I entrusted. My old therapist was temporarily out of practice at the moment and I didn’t know who I would turn to. I also stopped doing clerical work a week before then. Yeah. I was over it.
But what had grind my gears the most was the staff always preaching and stressing boundaries. But they were conditional boundaries. I couldn’t say no to a workload without it being seen as “insubordinate”, “spiritually unhealthy” or “not serving the vision”.
News flash: When someone is communicating to you or guardrailing themself—professionally or personally—they are trying to prevent themselves from reaching a certain a point. That is an indicator they are self-aware and indeed, spiritually healthy, mentally alert, and concerned they’re on the verge of worsening. That is great communication. That is not a pathway to project someone in the opposite direction. Beyond the church but in the professional world, we should be more considerate of repercussions and workloads. Being insubordinate and communicating intolerance are distinguishable. Both are also resolvable with extremely different approaches. To ultimately be reprimanded for standing my ground was another indicator: it is time to make like jello and jiggle out. Absence of leave for me meant clarification to dip and chuck up the deuces to the congregation✌🏼😗 The mature Christian in me prayed diligently for unquestionable confirmation though.
OK HERE WE ARE! The dreams! Finally! Thank you for sticking it out with me y’all!
I had the first dream the same night after my administrative leave of absence.
The Hallway Dream: It was midday and I was doing my rounds to check the office and building. I would check the coffee station first because coffee was the fuel for most of the staff. Then I’d work my way in a counterclockwise circle after checking the coffee station. Before I even get to the coffee station, I notice there is a black wicker basket in the middle of the office floor not too far from the printer. I don’t know how but I could see through the wicker basket a black cobra was inside. Panning the room, I asked aloud, “Does anyone see that? A black cobra is inside.” People seemed unbothered. They shrugged and went back to work. The executive pastors were in a meeting. The two offices that technically are separated by a hallway were joined as one large office space and there was a large glass window. They were in a meeting discussing whatever they were discussing.
I stride over to the basket to make sure I am not tripping. Silently, heads started to lift up from thoroughly typing on computers or writing on paper, and following my strides. I lift the top of the basket and the cobra comes up almost immediately. The cobra rotates in a 360 and pans the room to see who it will strike. It completes its 360. It stops at me. It draws back getting ready to strike me. Like a strict mom, I point my right index finger at it, and tell it with a powerful tone, “No! You can’t strike me.” It draws back and coils at the bottom of the basket as if it was slumbering. I ask the people in the office space, “Did y’all see that?” They blankly stare at me in silence.
I place the lid over the basket. I pick up the basket and turn to leave over my left shoulder to take the basket away and a staff member objects by trying to force it back down but they couldn’t because of my grip. “No. That stays here.” I respond, “Uhm, no, it doesn’t.” They say, “Yes, it does.” I say, “A wicker basket and a black cobra doesn’t belong in a church. Let alone in an office.” “No, it does belong. Leave it be.” I look at others to see what they would say and they say nothing. They are mute. And I notice they are wearing gray jumpsuits. In the joined office, I now notice the executive team standing up looking through the glass gesturing to each other what’s going on? Shrugging and trying to see what was going on. From the viewpoint, their view of the basket was blocked by the staff member’s body.
Irritated, I dropped the basket, not caring if it toppled and walked to return to my desk. On top of my desk sit either the same or another black cobra in a coiled position. It lifts his head and began to rise, to draw back and to strike me. Like a strict mom, I point my right index finger at it, and tell it with a powerful tone, “No! You can’t strike me.” It draws back and recoils in the same position as if it was slumbering. I walk away and a room turns into an endless hallway. My outfit changes from a white jumpsuit to a cool grey jumpsuit and I begin to walk away. There’s very dim lighting, coolness, frigidness and no vibrancy. The walls are dark and murky gray. As I walk, I keep checking over my shoulder to check the black cobra isn’t going to strike my heel. And I keep thinking in my head, Lord, where are You?
I woke up. I asked aloud, “Is this what will happen if I stay?” I hear a faint response, “Yes.”
Those who are gifted of dream interpretation, have way at using your gift but my focus was understanding the hallway. It was a representation of my relationship with God becoming stagnant. I wouldn’t grow. I would strain for the presence of Jesus. It would be lifeless. I would be constantly worried and limited to go in my direction. That wasn’t what I wanted or what Jesus wanted. Later that day, which is now a Thursday, I received two text messages from different people with the same theme of instructing me to be obedient to whatever God has told me to do. I. Was. Shook. So I prayed more.
Later that day, a staff member called me to talk. I found no benefit in this conversation. It came off belittling and condemning from jump with a faux tone of concern. I wasn’t impressed or moved. Word was that “Ebony is speaking negatively of the church.” Frankly, that statement gave me a petty reason to speak negatively about the church so the lips of gossipers would be telling truth. But I was being tested by the forbearance of my Fruit (my maturity). I held my composure. My character development had made it this far. I could withstand a few more days until I completely left. I commented back, “If you truly think or believe that, you never knew my heart to begin with.” After the conversation, the phone call with that staff member solidified my decision. I was going, going, gonnneee! Peeeeooonnnnnn. Mmkay?!
The next day, a Friday, I was preparing for a funeral of one of my football brothers from college. Like who could prepare for a funeral? It was going to be a hard hitting service for me. I was experiencing grief about that lost and leaving my church. Later that night, I had another dream and woke up at around 5 A.M. the next morning.
The Meadow Dream: The dream starts off with the same routine of it being midday to do my rounds to check the office and building and noticing the black wicker basket before I check the coffee station. Once again, I don’t know how but I could see through the wicker basket a black cobra was inside. Panning the room, I asked aloud, “Does anyone see that? A black cobra is inside.” People seemed unbothered. They shrugged and went back to work. Difference was some executive pastors were at their desk, one was in their office and two were in another office.
I stride over to the basket. Silently, heads started to lift up from thoroughly typing on computers or writing on paper, and following my strides. I lift the top off the basket and the cobra comes up almost immediately. The cobra rotates in a 360 and pans the room to see who it will strike. It completes its 360. It stops at me. It draws back getting ready to strike me. Like a strict mom, I point my right index finger, for a final time at it, and tell it with a powerful tone, “No! You can’t strike me.” It draws back and coils at the bottom of the basket as if it was slumbering. I ask the people in the office space, “Did y’all see that?” They blankly stare at me in silence.
I place the lid over the basket. I pick up the basket and turn to leave over my left shoulder to take the basket away and a staff member objects by trying to force it back down but they couldn’t because of my grip. “No. That stays here.” I respond, “Uhm, no, it doesn’t.” They say, “Yes, it does.” I say, “A wicker basket and a black cobra doesn’t belong in a church. Let alone in an office.” “No, it does belong. Leave it be.” I look at others to see what they would say and they say nothing. They are mute. And I notice they are wearing gray jumpsuits.
One pastor is in their office thoroughly at work with furrowed brows trying to make sense of the papers they are looking at, writing things down. Something that is new and only in the dream was a silver, beaming cross above their head. In real life, that wasn’t ever there. Two pastors come in and inquire, “What’s going on?” I speak up to say, “There’s a black wicker basket here with a black cobra inside. It doesn’t belong here.” The staff member refutes, “No. There’s nothing wrong with the basket.” I reply, “There is. I’ll even show you.” As I move their hands to open the lid, the staff member protests, “I promise you there’s nothing wrong with the basket.” The two pastors look at me, then exchange glances of worry with another and release with a reluctant breath and shrug, “If they say nothing is wrong with the basket. Then we’ll have to believe them.” I look at them in disbelief. I slam the basket down. I simply say, “If it bites you all then don’t say I warned you.”
I turn around to not walk to my desk but out of the door. I stride across the parking lot into a transformed landscape. In real life, the terrain is a forest and small house. But this turned into a massive, free-range, pasteurized meadow I had never saw before. The Sound of Music meadow can’t even touch this meadow!
My outfit changed from a white jumpsuit to a white sundress. Once I hit the soil, I wasn’t wearing shoes anymore and I could feel the warmth and enriched, soft yet crispy, chocolate-colored soil crumble beneath the soles of my feet with each step as I ventured into my meadow. I could smell the aroma of fresh, mildewy grass as if it rained not too long ago. I could hear and see the birds chirping and flying around. The insects buzzing. Monarch and blue butterflies were fluttering around delicately settling on flowers. The magnolias, bluebells, sunflowers, violets, tulips, roses, lilies and many more flowers perfectly balanced the vivid greenery of tall grass. To my left, I began to hear a stream nearby as I walked further into my meadow. As it came into view, I could almost feel the brisk and refreshing feeling of what that running water leading into a river had to offer. It’ll satisfy my thirst, I thought with a warm smile. I saw seven silhouettes of mountains in the far distance and trees like cherry blossoms, oak and pine trees surrounding the meadow. And lastly, the perfect radiance of the sun beaming down on me and far-reaching across my meadow, the trees and mountains. Horizontally, I stretched out my arms to embrace the sun’s rays and moving into a circle. Now, this... this had God all over it. Literally and figuratively.
I’ll spare a part of the dream because it isn’t important to share to anyone but the pastor and supervisor who knows this part. Dumbfounded, God gives me a message to relay and I wake up.
Because Abba will never withhold a good thing from His beloveds, and He is true to His Word, the Lord was showing me what would happen if I had left the church. I would venture into uncharted terrain and have the never ending presence of His Spirit. I would experience endless growth. Every where I turned, I would see His Kingdom of righteousness flourish in all seasons. All of Song of Songs and certain Psalms poured into my mind. I was excited to leave but also nervous. I didn’t know how they’d handle those two dreams or anything I came to know with my hearing Abba. So I prayed more and more. I asked friends who are very Spirit-led and they ensured me that last dream is where God wants me to be. Be obedient to leave.
And when having dinner with one of my homegirls, Joss, the same day after the funeral, the thought came to mind, “God asked Abraham to leave a familiar place. Don’t think He won’t ask you, Ebony.” (Abraham is a notable Biblical figure of faith and was asked to do crazy-like things by God without full understanding.) It was confirmed. That Sunday, I had a pageant orientation. That Monday, I was concentrating my heart to know the Lord has went before me for my exit meeting and to not worry. I was to be courageous. My friend texted me that day and his messages came in as the comfort I was looking for from God. He confirmed as the third message of not hesitating to do what God has asked me to do like the two other people who had sent me messages on that previous Thursday. I took heed. I also apologized to him for yelling at him a while ago for saying something about my church that I didn’t like but his insight was credible all along. He forgave me. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect my church and the leaders. That even meant cutting off or even fighting certain people. Don’t judge me. Peter did it first. (Little jokey joke.)
October 1, 2019, I had sat down with my pastor and supervisor to share the vast majority of what has been typed. I relayed any messages that were given to me in my dreams privately to the pastor. Along with the accompanying of my mom, I left out of the church’s office door feeling the weight instantly lift and my journey of venturing in my meadow finally began.
So you’ve read it from me. I left because God asked me to leave and gave me two prepositions. I left because God had better for me and I’m walking in it. Although I’m a bed-side baptist now (a jeer for Christians who stay home and watch online), I’ve experienced more of Holy Spirit’s leading and presence than I have at any church. I’m still connected to people who are full of the Holy Spirit. I’m still able to minister. I am still committed to my calling of full-time ministry in its unique form.
I totally cherish all of those who reached out to me. I’m still grateful for one of my pastors calling me to share their concern that I may fall way to my old lifestyle and exhorting me not to return. They cared. They also trusted that I was hearing God properly. But I’m grateful for my steadfastness in Jesus. Easily, I could’ve been like, Forget Jesus and Christians! But I’ve come too far to throw it all away. More people reached out to see where I was and to find out why I left. I politely told them the very brief truth. God say so. Even though they wanted to know more, they respected it.
In November before my pageant, I reached out to three highly respected women of the congregation who I adorned and wanted to thank them for always affirming my identity in Christ. Only one of three responded with genuine sincerity and loving wishes. I was deeply wounded the other two didn’t. It made me question their proclamation of me being a real woman of God because I had left without their agreement. But I had to ignore that thought. So I forgave them in the Spirit and moved on.
Only a handful of staff members and members of the congregation still communicate with me. I appreciate them for that. Others faithfully watch my Instagram or Facebook. Ahhhh! I be seeing y’all! Keeping up with me. But there’s no other worse feeling than people rejecting, bantering or chastising you for a decision that you made for your betterment when you once had such a great bond. People are seasonal though. Churches are, too.
I remember the stories of members who left. I can attest that Divine instruction may have prompted them to leave based on the two dreams I had and how they may have been treated. They had every right to do so. Some of you I know and others I don’t but I supported you then and now that I’m on the same side, I support you even more. And whoever was accused of speaking negatively about the church through a blog, you can add mine to the list!
For a final time, I left because there was better for me and I made sure I took God’s best—not second. And I get to share my story.
My on-set of chronic depression lasted until mid December when I began the publication of my book. (Which I am hoping to release in August).
For anyone who has faced church hurt or hurt in general, lean into the Holy Spirit, scripture and His supernatural powers of healing. They surpass any crystals, sage, yoga meditation, card-readings, etc. If you need to, it is encouraged to go to therapy. Forgiveness will become key. Become acquainted with it as a believer and non-believer. It will grant opportunities out the boo-hoo! I can testify to it.
Also, to discern whether or not God is asking you to leave a church or workplace or even relationship—friendship or romantic... Don’t be like me and ignore it. Be obedient. Ask questions. Match it up with His Word. Seek trustworthy, Spirit-led, and mature believers to help guide you. Holy Spirit will bring confirmation through them. Sometimes, a word will drop in their heart or flash in their minds to send and they’ll have no reason why. He’ll even use a stranger. Make sure YOU leave in peace. YOU need a clear conscious, not the leaders or others. Leaders and others aren’t always going to understand and you won’t either. We aren’t omniscient. The Lord is though. People also don’t always have to release you if you have God’s say so! Abraham’s father didn’t determine his departure. Ruth left Moab without others’ approval! Peter dropped his net and didn’t ask his boss could he clock out. I’m just saying...
But I am emphasizing you must know when it’s Holy Spirit, your emotions or the imposter. It may take time but it will come. I’m healed from it which is why I am sharing this.
Hopefully, this helped someone in some fashion. In this journey from transitioning from being in a congregation to be a part of the bed-side baptists, there’s so much I’ve gathered through this journey that I cannot wait to share with you all! So be on the look-out!
Until next time.
Lovingly,
Ebony M. Acton🌸
Thank you for reading!
Thank you for sharing your story, your experience!