Breaking The Silence From Shame

CHAPTER 1

A Seed Sown

Always seek out the seed of triumph in every adversity.

—Og Mandino

I asked Jesus into my life at the age of six. As a child, I heard many sermons about the imminent return of Jesus Christ and the rapture, and I did not want to be left behind. Perhaps my salvation at that time was more about fear than faith. Hebrews 10:3 says that faith comes by hearing the message, so what messages did I receive as a child in church? I admired my mother, who was an active member in the church, a Sunday school teacher, and an usher. I wanted to be like my mom.

I was raised Pentecostal, so I was taught that I would be saved when I received the baptism of the Holy Spirit. This confused me because I knew that I had asked Jesus into my heart and had been baptized in water. Nonetheless, according to the Pentecostal exegesis of Scripture, I was not saved. According to Romans 8:9 (NKJV), “But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwell in you. Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His.” Speaking in tongues was considered to be evidence of the Holy Spirit, and I didn’t speak in tongues. So I was not allowed to serve on auxiliaries in the church, although I was afforded the opportunity to participate in the Easter and Christmas programs. For years I would “tarry” for the Holy Ghost, as did the early church on the day of Pentecost. There was no sound as a mighty rushing wind. I did however hear a woman shouting in my left ear, “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. Keep going!” And another woman in my right ear, “Give it all to Him. Let it go!” Meanwhile, as instructed, I repeatedly said, “Hallelujah!” Many times I would leave the prayer room breathing heavily and wet from sweating. That experience led me to believe that I was doing something wrong—that somehow I was undeserving of God’s Spirit inside of me. A seed was planted that would later grow into feelings of shame, which I will address in a later chapter. I know now that I was saved back then. I was His child. I was a part of the kingdom of God.

I am in no way discrediting the teachings that I received. People work with the knowledge they have. I respect and admire those women who labored with people to bring them closer to God. But I now believe that it was man’s rule—not God’s rule—that did not allow me to serve in the church. Jesus said, “Let the children alone, don’t prevent them from coming to me. God’s kingdom is made up of people like these” (Matthew 19:14 MSG).

I wasn’t asking to be a leader or to preach; I just wanted to be an usher like my mom. I sat and watched my friends serve on the junior usher board, and I wanted to do the same. Every so often I heard about a church friend who received the Holy Spirit, and I fumed with jealousy and resentment. But as I got older, my preoccupation with serving on the usher board diminished. I started to see troubling things—those same girls who had been saved were also dancing, cursing, and having sex, according to conversations we would have in the women’s restroom. But the Devil had already made his deposit in me: insecurity.