Friday, March 27, 2015

Writing Challenge, Day 4: The PK Rant

 I am a very laidback person (shutup, Shayla and Alonzo), so it was hard for me to come up with a rant topic. 

I debated whether or not to post this. Even though these are my feelings and I stand behind them 100%, I never want to do anything to cause issues for God's people. But there are people out there who are struggling with these exact issues right now. Though I've been set free, I know there are people out there who are still trying to get free. This one is for them. 
1.I am not a child.
I’m going to let you all in on a little secret: I was born in 1982. I’ve been out of high school since 2000; I graduated from college eleven years ago and I have voted in the last three presidential elections.

Have any other “kids” done that?

I am a woman with my own thoughts and opinions. If you disagree with me, then disagree with me. Saying “I’m telling your dad” won’t make me stay in line.  I’ll just know that you have no respect for me and deal with every interaction moving forward in an appropriate manner.

2. I am not perfect.
“Church folks” (not Christians, there is a difference) love to throw Scripture grenades. If you aren’t doing what they think you should be doing, they will launch a Romans or Acts at you in a New York minute. Make no mistake about it: I am not above reproach. If my actions are causing my brother or sister to stumble, I can admit my mess and move forward. 

Still, I ask any of  you to show me one biblical passage that explicitly states that a child of a pastor can never do wrong, make mistakes or be anything but perfect.

…Nothing? Okay then.

I wholeheartedly believe in transparency and I acknowledge that I am just a sinner saved by grace. There are times when I just don’t want to come to choir rehearsal. There are times when I have just had a REALLY BAD DAY and I don’t feel like smiling. There are times when I have to say no to that dinner/musical/meeting because I just need some time to myself. There are times when I am bombarded with what feels like a million prayer requests—and I pray for everyone—but I have to stop and ask myself: “Who is praying for me?”

I didn’t choose this life. God chose my father, and since I am his FAVORITE DAUGHTER (just kidding...sort of), I have always supported his ministry. But please don’t look to me to be the example of perfection. That is way above my pay grade.

3. Church hurt hurts me too.
In elementary school, we played the dozens—joking around about each other’s mamas (which were really just jokes we had heard the previous night on In Living Color, but I digress). It was all fun and games until someone went too far; a classmate got too specific or said something that wasn’t funny, just mean. And the fight was on because we all abided by this one simple rule: I don’t play about my mama (or daddy).

Times have changed. We grew up.

And the words got even worse.

People have stood in my face and called my dad everything but a child of God. People have stood in my face and called me everything but a child of God.  I’m well aware that my first reaction should be to “turn the other cheek.”  I’d like to say I have been able to do that every single time someone cussed me out, dragged my family’s name through the mud or spread the most vicious, unbelievable lies I have ever heard.

I wish I could say that. But we all know it would be a lie.

I spent years trying to understand how people could be so mean. I’ve prayed about it, cried about it, spent many sleepless nights turning over this concept in my mind. How can you love God and hurt His people?

I still don’t know the answer, but God gave me something even better: spiritual maturity. You know how you’ll know when you’re there? When the same people who have hurt you are hurting…and instead of saying “that’s what they get,” you say “God, heal them.”

To be able to say that is worth every tear I’ve shed over church hurt in my life. They may not be changed, but I am.

3a.I have absolutely, positively nothing to do with the how, when or why of my dad getting married.
The only thing I have ever wanted is to see my dad happy. If that means marriage, I’m sure he can find someone. After all, he did a darn good job of it in 1974. If that doesn’t mean marriage, then I’m fine with that too. Trying to befriend me in an effort to get to him? That doesn’t work.

However, if you make a good Italian Cream Cake, I’d be more than happy to put in a good word for you!

Be Encouraged,


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