The church we left three years ago had an event the other day and my feeds are full of pictures from it and all the pain came back as I saw them. They're celebrating and people are talking about what a gracious and loving church they're so glad to belong to, and I said the same thing for years, and then I figured out that I was and am disposable to them. When they treated someone who worked there like an employee instead of a brother and a friend and fired him in a horrible economy and made up a very suspicious story about the circumstances for the firing, my heart broke. I sat in meetings with the elders and was one weeping woman in a roomful of stoic men each time. When they told me my intuition was wrong, I knew I had to leave. But there is so much pain and so much wrong that was swept under the rug, never to be revisited. I kept thinking the other night "blood still cries from the ground."
This should never happen to anyone.