Re: Kirkby Christian Fellowship
Date: December 24, 2007 04:29AM
Rosebud you know I often wonder just how many people in KFC did things like that; had their human reactions reinterpreted as "spiritual" somehow. Lmao at your description though!!
I always wonder just how many people just politely fell over instead of actually being slain in the spirit. Personally I'd put the percentage close to 100% but that's just my natural cynicism.
The Old Girl, you know, when I was growing up that was just normal for me, it took me some time to accept that what they did in terms of the physical punishments was actually abuse. I find it easier to forgive my Dad, because although he metered out the more severe punishments (i.e. with the belt), he did it in a very matter-of-fact way, like he was just obeying orders (from God, or Cheryl, or my mother, or whoever). Not that that makes it right, but it makes it easier for me to forgive. However my mother seemed to actively enjoy it. Especially when she was smacking my sister and she used to laugh.
My real beef is with the way that KFC treated my parents, and the way they treated me and my sister as a result. My parents were shunned by the leaders for years and years; I've already given the example of how my mother was treated by Cheryl & Mary, for whom she used to drive everywhere, until the bricks started coming and they just blanked her. Oh that's right, yeah, they got a word to stop speaking to her.
And of course that sent my mother spiraling further into her weirdness and - I personally think, although it was never spoken - her mental illness. Which meant me and my sister were for it of course.
You know what the awful thing is though? As soon as I'd gone, "ran away" apparently, yeah right, they were all accepted into the fold. And I wonder what was said to them and how Cheryl et al linked the two things? But what does make me genuinely sad is that they seized this opportunity. The were happy to lose their daughter in return for acceptance into the inner circle. All three of them; my mother, my father and my sister.
At no point did any of them say, "hang on a minute, Ruth's gone... shouldn't we wake up and examine if we've done anything wrong at all to drive her away? Shouldn't we think about whether this fellowship is actually destructive?" Instead, the second I'd gone, that was their chance. The loss of their daughter did not spur them into examining their faith or their reliance on that godawful KFC place. Instead they grabbed with both hands the chance to get "in" with the popular ones. I find that so sad, that I meant so little to them; that KFC meant more.