I’m ready to fight for my brothers and sisters who were tricked into exchanging their armor of God for man made logic and self help books.
When I was eleven years old I went to our church Harvest Party (Google that if you need to) dressed as Jezebel. It was my first act of rebellion as a P.K. and in my defense I was still obeying the rule of, “must come dressed as a Bible character.”
After years of dressing up as an angel (old ballet recital costumes with wings), Noah (they actually attached a bib with cotton balls to my face), Mary, and the ever popular partner parable costume with my sister, “the Vine and the Branches” I decided my adolescent options were few and far between. Since I could remember we had never never been allowed to Trick or Treat. However, my parents let us participate in public school celebrations and agreed I could dress up as a genie for my school costume parade. As part of this negotiation it was decided I would come home and change into my Bible character costume for the Harvest Party.
But that genie costume was so glamorous. And Jezebel WAS a name in the Bible.
I made my entrance feeling somewhat proud of myself for making this connection and creatively finding a way to incorporate my sequined costume in the evening. I announced my character with great pride before a few church members decided to share with me the backstory of who I was portraying. With the quick removal of my clip on hoop earrings, Lee Press on Nails and bright red Bonnie Bell lipstick I suddenly became “Noah’s Wife”. Plain old, boring, Noah’s wife who somehow had found some chiffon on that ark.
The rest of my life would be made up of these moments of choices and decisions. As I learned more about discernment and Godly conviction I began to understand cause and effect; there were real life consequences to making a statement of who I wanted to be out of teenage rebellion.
I wanted to be an individual without the initials PK attached to my name. I wanted adventure and excitement in a world of long dresses, big hair and week long revivals. I wanted to watch Rated-R movies and decide for myself if I should stay or walk away. I wanted boyfriends and date nights. I wanted bikini’s not one piece speedos. I wanted to be seen and heard, not overlooked. Sometimes I wondered what alcohol tasted like and how it felt to break curfew and be grounded. When my friends were sneaking out at camp to make out with their boyfriends I was the one obediently tucked into my bunkbed but curious about what I would find in those woods.
Looking back I always thought I was mostly afraid of consequences. I thought I was scared of getting caught. I figured I must be one of those kids who just wanted to make my parents happy. I would get my toes right up to the line but something kept me from crossing it. Something still keeps me from crossing it to this day.
It turns out, I didn’t have a fear of my parents or the church or rules. I had a fear of God.
I had seen demons cast out. I had grown up watching men in wheelchairs be healed at the altar and get up and run. I had seen God open up the ears of those who had once been deaf. I watched people on their death bed go home from the hospital the next day. I had seen God rescue my own family members from addiction.
I knew what God could do and I knew what He could do through me and that brought out a different kind of rebellion.
I was determined not to be another P.K statistic.
I decided I wouldn’t blame my parents for establishing rules to protect me (although I’m not sure banning the Smurfs and Scooby Doo from our TV was really saving me from anything).
I chose not to hate the Church for holding me to what felt like unrealistic expectations. I chose to forgive friends who had betrayed me and seek forgiveness from those whom I had betrayed.
My rebellion was showing the true enemy, Satan, the evil one, the darkness, whatever you want to call him, that he would never win. My rebellion was loving those who had hurt me, serving those who had taken advantage of me and pursuing those I thought had abandoned me.
In my teens my rebellion was running towards Jesus and not towards the world.
In my 20’s my rebellion was saying no to things I wanted to say yes to because it felt good and everyone was doing it. I was left out. I was rejected. I didn’t even have a boyfriend until I was 25! It seemed so much easier to just give up and give in…
In my 30’s my rebellion was seeking out mentors who would coach me in God’s grace and truth instead of seeking out those who were popular and only telling me things I wanted to hear. I hear a LOT of truth these days.
In reflecting over my years as a pastor’s kid I have learned who I am rebelling against. I had to stop placing blame on people and put all my energy into destroying the real enemy. The one the Word of God says is out to kill, steal and destroy me and my family. He wants us fighting each other, distracted, exhausted and confused. He wants us dead.
Emotionally dead. Spiritually dead. Physically dead.
He wants to shut you up.
The enemy knows your story could change the world. He knows you could lead ministries and platforms with anointing and power. Your experience growing up in the church could minister to thousands. Your experience could help others find hope and freedom. We are the ambassadors. Those who will serve and sacrifice. We are called, chosen and appointed for such a time is this!
And He hates it.
Some of you have let him silence your song. You’ve given him power of your heart, mind and relationships. You’re confused and angry and you’re allowing him to place blame on the people who have loved you the most. You’ve become isolated and removed yourself from the church community as to not be judged and condemned as in the past.
You’ve been rebelling against the wrong enemy.
I’m mad. I’m at war with an enemy who is stealing my very own friends and family with his lies and deception. I’m going into battle after the one who justifies P.K sin under the theme of, “I’m finally free after years of living under rules and legalism.”
I’ll be honest…I still fight the temptation for adventure and excitement in a world of leadership expectations and ministry obligations. I watch Rated-R movies and still have to decide for myself if I should stay or walk away. I’m not exempt from sexual temptation so I stay on guard and pray for protection. I still pass by the bikini section at Target but after 2 kids I now choose shorts and a t-shirt I still want to be seen and heard, not overlooked. Sometimes I wonder what alcohol tastes like. But one thing I know is when I go to bed safely in my home next to my husband- there is nothing good out in those woods.
I didn’t miss a thing.
I’m still not missing anything. God has given me perfect gifts, He is fulfilling His promises to me and my family every single day.
He surrounded me, and continues to surround me with people who care bout me. People who know His Word and set rules and expectations that protected me and to this day protect me even though it often felt like rejection.
I’m ready to fight for my brothers and sisters who were tricked into exchanging their armor of God for man made logic and self help books.
I am a rebel with a cause.
I’ve come too far to stop now. He’s brought us too far to quit. He gave us these initials so we could use them as credentials to serve His church, His Bride. We carry the scars of our title but each one tells a story like badges of honor.
I’ve identified the enemy and God has given me a strategy to win the war…one of prayer, intercession and fasting. And He fights alongside of me. He is the One who has never left my side.
He’s never left your side. Even in your rebellion he was there.
He still is.