I'll Never Leave...

I would say that my anger has become more than a distraction. I've had it for awhile, but only lately have I tried to respect it by facing the facts and digging deeper into the cause. When I say "I'll Never Leave" I'm not referring to Spain or any other physical location. I'm referring to the Family of God. But why the anger?

We all know what a good family should be. As we grow older we may realize that a good family is not a perfect family, but being resilient during conflicts of the very worst sort, and being able to forgive and continue to give and receive unconditional love are what seems to be the true definition of a good family. Having a large helping of stubborn loyalty certainly helps.

When I look at my church family, I see many valuable relationships that help me grow, give me comfort and great enjoyment. Most people reading this fall into that category and have been true and trusted friends (Jesus among them!) For me, these relationships define my relationship with the church and not much else.

When I was in third grade, a made friends with a PK (pastor's kid) named Hank. Hank's Dad was the pastor at Argentine Assembly of God. I became a bus ministry kid and received a small Royal Ranger T-shirt. This was not my first exposure to the pentecostal faith. During the middle of the last century, my grandparents both went to Wyandotte Tabernacle, my parents met and married there. As a child I remember dozing on the wooden pews at that white, gothic inner-city building in the heart of KCK. So, I've always really been part of the family. Many of us share a similar family heritage that reaches back for decades.

Now I'm a missionary for the Assemblies of God, some would say we are the largest Pentecostal group in the world. But I'm not sure if that is important. I've lasted this long with the A/G only because I'm loyal to family. The pentecostal church still claims me but I'm still a sinner who has always thought that "being called to a higher standard" as a missionary borders on heretical pomposity. Sometimes I think about these things when I wake up. This can't be healthy! Lately the cycle has been peaceful dreams cut short, intrustion of anger and ugly grudges, doubts in myself, a confused prayer for serenity, and a search for mental space later in the day.

Here are some of the things that haunt and hound me: The boxes I have checked to get my minister credentials. The suits I have worn over my tattoos (described as "lesions" in my medical records). The fact that my first name, Darwin, a name given to my father and passed to me, is taboo within my denomination. The assumed compliance with the political "Official Position Papers" of the Assemblies of God. Having my spiritual and intellectual liberty dictated (or strongly impressed upon me) from the pulpit. Being in a Fellowship that increasingly functions as a sacred denomination. Wondering where my fear of creating a stumbling block for others became unwitting subservience to insecure extroverts who are scared of Unicorns and Halloween. Giving up many personal rights within the A/G that I protected for them as a young paratrooper.

I know that much of these grievences are weighted down by my own bitterness and insecurities, but Springfield, and indeed, the entire Pentecostal Family, who claims me as one of their own, would disavow me for very minor transgressions, be they vices, or even intellectual ideas. I live looking over my shoulder. I have to answer very pointed questions on paper at least once a year and verbally assent to them in public gatherings. This is not how a family operates...

So I play outside. It's cold. My nose runs. I sweat from running and shouting with my friends, playing games, whispering secrets, waiting until I can come inside.