Anne Marie Miller

Category: Leadership

  • Practical Steps You Can Take to Heal from Trauma and PTSD

    Practical Steps You Can Take to Heal from Trauma and PTSD

    As we get closer to the release of Healing Together: A Guide for Helping Sexual Abuse Survivors, I thought I’d share some practical steps I’ve found to be helpful as I’ve spent the last year and a half healing through the revival of complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) that bulldozed me after reporting my childhood clergy sexual abuse (you can read my story here, here, here, and here, and my victim impact statement I read to Mark Aderholt, the man who abused me, at his sentencing just a couple of months ago.

    Trauma affects us in every way: physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and relationally. Over the next few days, I’ll be posting some practical steps survivors can take to help begin healing in every area of life.

    Why Healing Is Overwhelming

    I’ve broken these down into those five areas, and I’m intentionally labeling them each as individual “selves,” i.e, physical self, emotional self, etcetera. Yes, trauma damages a person holistically, in every system, but so frequently survivors, as a subconscious survival mechanism, disassociate and compartmentalize these various parts of who we are. Part of recovery is integrating them back together.

    If we’re not in touch with our whole “self” yet, trying to heal a little in every area all at once can get messy and confusing and we can feel defeated. Have you ever woke up on a particularly motivated day and thought, “Alright. This is it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it all and do it now. I’m tired of being tired all the time.”

    Maybe you started eating healthy, made that counseling appointment, signed up for that book club and to run that 5k. You told your boss you can work more hours, you bought a planner, made a vision board, and reorganized your pantry.

    We try to do all these things at once so we can feel like our pre-trauma selves. But, let’s say your mental health isn’t doing so great so as you take on all these engaging tasks, your mind gets exhausted and overwhelmed. It’s a quick way to burn out (and when I burn out, it’s easy to ruminate on what a failure I perceive myself to be).

    I think the key is going slow, evaluating what areas we’re most affected in, affirming that it’s okay to be exactly where you are, and using our strengths as we take one. step. at. a. time. This will help us strengthen our weaker selves so we have the margin to continue healing and functioning in everyday life.

    In Healing Together, I write:

    The body of a survivor suffers great harm. It was the body that was violated first. In any case, another person took what God created for his good and his glory and tarnished it with evil. God does not hold the survivor responsible for what happened to their body, and he sees him or her as pure. He grieves over the pain that was caused.

    To survive the abuse physically and emotionally, survivors
    often disassociate or disconnect from sensations in their bodies.
    For survivors, being mindful and present in our bodies after
    abuse has occurred is a difficult task and can cause anxiety.

    Reconnecting with our bodies requires a lot of hard work, and
    usually professional help.

    Anne Marie Miller, Healing Together: A Guide for Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors

    Three things I have found tremendously helpful as I’ve tried to learn how to care for my physical self are:

    • Drink water. All the time. Pee twenty times a day. This is so important for your blood pH and electrolyte balance. I don’t like water. Find a way that you can tolerate if you’re like me. Drink, drink, drink. If I fill up my to-go coffee thermos before bed and keep it on my bathroom counter, it reminds me to guzzle down a couple of cups of water first thing in the morning, and then I use the thermos for my coffee before heading out the door.
    • Feed my gut nutritious food, and not feel like a failure when I eat the 682 calorie chocolate chip cookie at Panera.

      (I’m not going to lie to you, so let’s get the elephant out first. I LOVE COOKIES. I love them more than most things in my life. They are my biggest dopamine providers. Panera has an almost 700 calorie cookie that is meant to be shared. I have eaten two of them in one sitting. Obviously, I know this should not be the norm and thankfully, I intentionally do not go to Panera often because I know that I will regret my choices.)

      I try and live by the 80/20 rule. 80% of my food is whole food (as close to the original way it was made), is plant-based (I am 100% vegetarian meaning no fish, white meat, red meat, any meat), and is colorful. Eat every color of the rainbow in your food every day. Lately, I’ve been trying to find organic items that I can reasonably afford, and avoiding any built-in seasonings (extra preservatives and sodium) or extra ingredients (especially things with the word “isolate” in them). I find when I eat this way, I feel amazing and actually crave more nutritious food.

      Notice that I didn’t say “good” food or “bad” food here. Food does not have an intrinsic moral value. The key is eating nutritious food. It requires more time, more effort, more planning, more cooking, and I understand that all those things are hard to even want to do when everything else in our body is telling us to celebrate when we get out of bed and shower some days (which is also totally okay and you have permission to do).

      Here, I’ve found there is a paradoxical effect. The more time I take with grocery shopping, with reading the ingredients, with washing and prepping healthy things on Sunday evening (FWIW: that’s my worship service; you cannot immerse yourself in the colors and smells of God’s creation without being enamored. I am more grateful in my spirit when cutting up fresh cilantro than trying to “pray” the way I was taught growing up). I find I have more time during the week to eat, enjoy, have healthy options (less regret), and that gives me space to walk in my week knowing my family and I will be fed, and my physical self that needs healing is taking in food that is meant to flood my blood with vitamins and nutrients which heal damaged cells, keep my gut healthy and my immunity strong (usually not the case when we’re our system is producing extra of the stress hormone cortisol). I have more energy. I just feel better.

    Some of the foods and beverages I’ve fallen in love with in this season are:

    • multicolored carrots
    • multicolored cauliflower
    • radishes
    • all the berries, apples, peaches, bananas (never go anywhere without a banana), cucumbers, sweet peppers, grapes (cotton candy grapes anybody?)
    • strawberry Caprese salads (baby kale, strawberries, spinach, mozzarella cheese freshly torn, basil, tomatoes, loaded with flax and chia seeds and nuts with a little balsamic glaze on the side).
    • oatmeal with fresh or baked fruit and loads of cinnamon
    • columbian coffee with oat milk creamer
    • using veggie or lentil pasta (green lentil is the best) and mashed up chickpeas for the “meat” vibe in spaghetti sauce
    • mixed, whole grain rice stir-fried with whatever veggies I have chopped up, and baked tofu (it’s not gross, I promise)
    • heaps of fresh fruit and vegetables cut up and ready to eat in the fridge and on the counter
    • steamable plain veggies: super cheap, super easy, super good for you
    • one of my easiest go-to meals is microwaved brown rice topped with microwaved broccoli with whatever beans and sometimes microwaved sweet potato chunks. 10 minutes or so, $4-$5, and gives us at least 3-5 servings.
    • 92% dark chocolate in the freezer
    • mashed avocado with hard-boiled egg (I recommend these if you occasionally eat egg since they’re more humane than most) on whole-grain toast (bonus if you can find one with seeds. My favorite is a Texas brand
    • Kombucha and other teas
    • Some of my 20% foods are Kashi’s Go Love chocolate granola, Morning Star Popcorn “chicken,” various meat-free pizzas (Amy’s cheese or one with a cauliflower crust), pad Thai with vegan Thai sauce, and quesadillas (made with whole wheat tortillas, vegetarian black refried beans, a teeny tiny sprinkle of cheese, microwaved and then grilled in a pan, topped with corn, sliced sweet peppers, guac, and plain almond milk yogurt in lieu of sour cream).
    • One other physical practice I’ve been slowly integrating is moving more. I don’t want to call it “exercise” because “exercise” conjures up pictures of gyms and people running outside and sweating and I am not that girl. I have tried to be that girl. I am not that girl.

      Introverted me who is extremely uncomfortable exercising in front of people (a trait common amongst sexual abuse survivors) found that intentionally waking up early before my family (all the experts are right: the more you do it, the more you want to), doing yoga all by myself and watching the sun rise is immensely therapeutic. Yes, that means sometimes I’m awake at 5:15 am but it has been worth it. Amazon Prime, as well as YouTube, have free yoga programs from beginner all the way to expert and some integrate HIIT training and others are gentle and modified for people with injuries. You can always do yoga later, or some days not at all. At night, after our daughter is in bed, I take the dogs out for 20-30 minutes walking around in the quiet evening (pepper spray in hand because of hypervigilance).

      I try to do both of these things at least five times a week. I find I want to do them more. It’s the weirdest thing. Also, some days my body or mind says I need to get more rest, maybe not wake up early at all, forego the official “work out” and I’m learning to respect what I need for each day without judgment.

      I’ve had to remind myself none of this is meant for weight loss. It’s not a way to drop a dress size before your cousin’s wedding or the holidays. If I look at it as taking very small steps to take care of me, the pressure is off. Go at your own pace. Do what’s reasonable for you. Eat 50/50. Eat a vegetable. Walk once a week. Run a marathon. Do whatever is right for you at this moment and don’t take on someone else’s journey as your own.

    Unexpected Gifts

    What’s surprised me with doing this over the last few months is how much I have slowed down and take time to find beauty around me. I have been awed by little flowers, immersed in the flavor of a blackberry, felt the tingle in my mouth from a kombucha, melted in a hot cup of perfectly balanced creamy coffee, saved frogs and lizards from their demise as potential dog treats on walks, and learned about what stars are shining bright on my walks.

    I hope somehow these ideas that I’ve adopted into my daily habits can somehow be helpful to you. Everyone is different. Everyone needs different things. Let this list be a starting point for you. Maybe it can give you some ideas to adopt in a way that is right for your healing.

    Find something your body needs, give your body that thing and celebrate that you are becoming healthier with each cucumber, each attempt at downward-facing dog, or drinking that extra cup of water today.

    As my counselor says: You got this.

    Next up is Part 2: Mental Health.

  • Anne Marie Miller’s Victim Impact Statement after Guilty Plea from Mark Aderholt and Other Women Come Forward

    This morning, I had the opportunity to do something I never thought I would be able to do, emotionally or logistically: tell Mark Aderholt how the sexual abuse he inflicted on me as a teenager affected me, and that I forgave him. I did both at his hearing today at the Tarrant County Courthouse.

    Sarah Smith, who first shared my story last year after Mr. Aderholt’s arrest, wrote about the hearing here. She has become such a trusted friend in the last year. Just a day after coming back from an overseas (much needed) vacation, she traveled all the way up to Dallas to be present. The gallery was full of supporters: friends from twenty years ago and friends I met just today who have been fiercely encouraging over the last year. My family was there, and Tim stood by me as I read the statement. I am eternally grateful for everyone who was there in person or in spirit.

    I wanted to touch on a couple of things before you read the statement:

    • Mr. Aderholt was charged with a fifth crime: assault causing bodily injury. This is the crime he pleaded guilty to, and it’s a misdemeanor. I knew of this plea deal ahead of time, and knew of the sentence it likely carried. The judge did hand down the maximum sentence for this crime, but many people have expressed how the punishment is not fitting of the crime. He will not be on any registries and as long as he keeps the terms of his probation, there will actually be no record of his crimes on a background check.

      Over the last year, I have learned how unspeakably complicated the criminal justice system is. So many variables go into each and every case. While I think we all can agree that Mr. Aderholt is not facing the criminal penalty he should be, the DA’s office asked for my input and wishes during plea negotiations. This included taking into consideration the emotionally charged prospect of a jury trial, facing a relentless and brutal cross-examination by his defense attorney, the impact of a trial on my family and a potential verdict of not guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I fully trust the prosecuting attorney and the final outcome. For what it’s worth, I do not believe this will be the last time Mr. Aderholt is in a courtroom. I know the court of public opinion (and media) are appropriately convicting of his actual offenses, should he apply for a job in ministry and the organization does a quick internet search.
    • You will notice in my statement a very important paragraph and relatively new development: I am not the only woman Mr. Aderholt has taken advantage of sexually. While these stories are not mine to tell, they are first-hand and disturbing. They have been authenticated by an independent party. The other women helped me write this and it was with their approval that I could share this in court. They can and should (and will) keep full agency of their stories. I believe there are even more people out there who have been affected by Mr. Aderholt’s manipulation.

    Others have come forward in the past few days and shared that you used their vulnerability for your sexual gratification, at times even doing so after you were told to stop.

    -Anne Marie Miller, Victim Impact Statement for Mark Aderholt
    • When I read the statement from Mr. Aderholt’s attorney, Justin Sparks, I literally almost threw up in my mouth. This does not reflect the plea agreement in the courtroom (the judge said something to the effect of “are you pleading guilty to this charge because you are guilty of this charge?” to which Mr. Aderholt agreed.) To hear that he still maintains his innocence and he agreed to this only for the sake of the lesser punishment and for his own “closure” is reprehensible and indicative of how truly deceived this man is.

      Mr. Sparks’ statement is a complete lie. Mark did plead guilty to the crime of bodily injury. If he “maintains his innocence” that just proves he either lied to the judge (hi, perjury!) or he is lying through his attorney. One more notch in the deception belt. What is on record, his pleading guilty, is the truth. What he said in the courtroom is the only thing that matters. What he said to the media is what he pays his lawyer to do: spin the truth. “Mark agreed to this result because the original allegations were abandoned and for closure.” WRONG. He pleaded guilty because he said he did it. Check the court records. Defending someone to the best of your ability is your job, Mr. Sparks. By saying he took the plea deal for reasons other than his admission implies he lied under oath when he pleaded guilty.

      Also in Mr. Sparks’ statement, he makes it seem like the DA just gave up on the case and whipped out an offer. This is TOTALLY false. We had always prepared to go to trial. On the last docket, the defense approached and asked for time and if the DA would consider a negotiation as an alternative to an open plea (trial by judge). We agreed and they came back to the DA’s office with the desire to have the charge changed to a misdemeanor. He is taking advantage of the fact the DA’s office cannot comment on cases so he can literally spew any kind of false information without accountability. I’m here to tell you every insinuation in his statement is 100% false.

    I am so glad this is over. As I state, this is the end not because of any confession or admission of guilt (which, even though he said the word, “guilty,” he evidently didn’t mean it after all), or him asking me for forgiveness (he didn’t even look me in the eye one time in the 10 minutes I read my statement, even though I said I would like to look him in the eye to tell him).

    It is over because I have spoken the truth into the world and I have forgiven him. The only lies that have any power any more are the lies he tells himself.

    Thank you for all of your support and prayers over the years, especially this last one. I’m going to sign off for a couple days and cuddle my little girl and celebrate the end of this with my family.

    Honorable Judge Hagerman: I want to thank you for this opportunity to give this statement. I would also like to thank Mr. William Knight and Detective Charles Cisneros who wisely and compassionately utilized the criminal justice system to hold Mr. Aderholt accountable for his character and actions.

    And before I address the defendant, I want to express gratitude to my husband Tim for supporting me with enduring and sacrificial love during this turbulent time, to my family and friends, including those standing with me today in flesh and in spirit, for their encouragement, love, and prayers, and to our daughter Charlotte who gives me the strength to move beyond this trauma into a courageous and joy-filled life.

    Now, I would like to address the defendant, Mr. Mark Aderholt.

    My family moved from Abilene to Arlington a couple of weeks into my junior year of high school, and I was completely alone. I knew nobody outside of my family and my parents were desperately trying to make ends meet. I was questioning my faith for the first time in my life because of the way the church treated us before we moved. I grieved the rich community I left behind, so I tried to do the one thing I knew how to do in pursuit of finding friends: be the good Christian girl.

    Because we weren’t going to church, I reached out to several pastors on America Online trying to find someone who could help me start a See You at the Pole event at my school. You responded to my email and we met at a McDonalds at the Hypermart off Cooper and Bardin in Arlington. After my mom met you and went to do her shopping, we talked over french fries. When we were done, we went to find my mom and the two of you exchanged seminary and missionary stories before we went our separate ways.

    My See You at the Pole event failed completely and I was having a crisis of faith and identity. You encouraged me to not give up, and you invited me over to your apartment to talk and pray.

    Finally, I thought. A friend.

    I went to your apartment, a bottom floor one bedroom in North Arlington. As we spent time together, we got to know each other. You told me about Pampa and your time at Wayland Baptist and your mission trips and your school. You told me about your family and your sisters—one was my age, give or take. 

    We had fun: We went to Kroger in your blue Grand Am and bought ice cream. You took me to have dinner at Razoo’s in Sundance Square. You kissed me and we acted silly at Greenbriar Park when a car flashed their lights at us. “Let’s give them a show,” you said. I wanted to buy a yellow truck like the one you parked next to at your apartment. You said girls who drove yellow trucks were hot.

    I felt blessed to have you, this man of God, as my friend. We sat on your floor to watch a movie. As your arm brushed against mine—and then stayed there for a moment, I remember feeling nervous but excited. Did you want to be more than friends? You held my hand. You kissed me. And then you kissed me more. 

    On the floor next to your TV, you were on top of me kissing. You rolled off of me for a moment and propped your head up on your arm. You asked if I was a virgin and I awkwardly said yes. You told me you weren’t, that you lost your virginity when you were 13, but it was a mistake you wouldn’t make again.

    You continued kissing me and your hands wandered all over my body. No boy had ever touched me the way you touched me, or in the places you touched me. And you were no boy. You were a man, almost a decade older than my sixteen years. I was afraid to say no, afraid that I would lose one of my only friends. 

    We met many times over my junior year in high school. And out of nowhere, you ended it.

    You told me you were engaged and getting married later that year to a girl you met overseas. She was coming back to the states in the summer and could never find out about us. 

    That was the moment everything changed. Beyond violating my body, when you told me to never talk to you again, you broke my spirit. 

    The world was no longer safe and even the Godliest of men could not be trusted. I was just a body with breasts and hips and thighs and other things too intimate to name. I felt ashamed of what we did, humiliated in my naïveté. You didn’t care that I was already lost and alone and hurting when I met you. In fact, you took advantage of my vulnerability. I was the least likely person to tell anyone what you did. And although it took some time, you were mistaken.

    When I turned 25 and was mentoring a 16 year old girl, I had a revelation just how inappropriate it was for you to pursue a romantic relationship with a girl who had only recently earned her drivers license. I realized you intentionally and dishonorably harmed me and violated me in the most intimate way. This wasn’t a bad break up: You manipulated me. 

    You sexually abused me.

    I told leaders at the International Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention what you did, and after they investigated it, they determined I was telling the truth. But they let you resign and over the next decade, you were promoted in your career in the SBC. I could never reconcile why they’d let you do that. It didn’t make sense. Now we know that you continued advancing because you were dishonest with everyone about your past. 

    When the #MeToo movement was going viral on social media, I was mostly offline, busy as a new mom, changing diapers and starting nursing school.  As I looked down at my daughter and reflected on an article a friend sent, I thought to myself, “What am I going to tell her when she’s older? How am I going to make the world safer for her?” Surely there was something more I could do. 

    I decided to report you to the authorities and go public with my story, knowing it would be a step to reclaim the truth in this false narrative you directed for so long. Knowing it was a step to put an end to the power of your dishonesty. 

    On July 3, a year ago tomorrow, you were arrested.

    I am grieved your family has experienced such pain because of your actions. However, you also need to know the dramatic and traumatizing way your disregard for me as a woman and as a sister in Christ has affected me.

    Nine years ago, I checked myself in to an inpatient counseling facility. I was diagnosed with complex post-traumatic stress disorder because of what you did to me.

    I wanted to heal: I wanted to be able to not have a panic attack or feel a searing pain between my legs when I had sex. I didn’t want to shake with fear every time I saw a mid-nineties blue Grand Am. I wanted to drive down Highway 360 to visit my parents without getting nauseous when I passed your old apartment. I didn’t want to feel dread driving by Greenbriar Park every time I went to spend time with my grandparents. Even this year as I would visit my dying grandmother, I would see that park. Something as sacred as her final days were cloaked in the shadows of evil from when you sexually abused me.

    During the investigation last year, there were days I couldn’t get out of bed because of my anxiety. Our daughter, who had just taken her first steps, toddled to the bedroom door saying,  “mama, mama” and my husband would redirect her saying, “mama’s sleeping,” even though I wasn’t. I was so exhausted, but yet I couldn’t stop crying. I thought my husband and daughter would be better off without me: a broken, hopeless person.

    Mark: you need to know that what you did to me made me want to kill myself many times. I even tried once a few years ago, but I couldn’t figure out how to work the gun. 

    On Mother’s Day last year, about a month after the investigation started, I headed to Nashville and went to inpatient therapy again because of my suicidality. While I was there, you were coming home from a mission trip, telling people about a fabricated lawsuit you were supposedly settling with me: a woman from your past who was suing you—something, by the way, that has never happened. When you were on your plane home, I was in an ambulance heading to Trauma Bay #2 of Skyline Hospital in Nashville, out of my therapy treatment two weeks early, because of a freak accident. During a game of baseball, someone lost their grip on the bat and it missiled into my jaw, breaking it in four places. I’ve had four surgeries, two bone grafts, plates and screws and braces and implants. My face will never be the same. 

    The cost of this accident and all of the mental health expenses over the last two decades has a price tag of hundreds of thousands of dollars. This is just one more way I’ve suffered because of the abuse, and it will forever affect my family’s financial future.

    When I first wrote this victim statement, I wrote about how I prayed that you were a statistical anomaly. I wrote about how I hoped I was the only person you sexually violated. 

    I have since learned you are not an anomaly. 

    I am not the only woman you took advantage of. 

    Others have come forward in the past few days and shared that you used their vulnerability for your sexual gratification, at times even doing so after you were told to stop. There are hearts everywhere damaged by your refusal to own up to what you’ve done. The truth is exploding out from all the places you have hidden it. You can no longer hide in the duality you live in. 

    Mark, here we are, face to face, 22 years after seeing each other for the last time. My heart is no longer broken. It has been rebuilt by love and faith and those who have helped carry it and patch it over the years.  I never thought I’d see you again, ever, but now I can and I want to look you in the eyes and tell you I forgive you. 

    I forgive you, Mark. For all of the pain, the time I had to spend away from loved ones, the fear of intimacy, and the financial losses. I forgive you for stealing the good I believed about the world and for damaging the image of a perfect and loving God who I still often doubt cares for me or protects me. 

    I forgive you. And my heart aches for the person-the man-you could be if you would just tell the truth and accept the responsibility that comes with it.

    I used to believe that in order for this ordeal to be over, you needed to tell the truth and ask me to forgive you. I know now that’s not the case. This is over because I have spoken the truth. It’s over because I have forgiven you. Your lies have no more power. 

    This is over, Mark. This is the end.

    I do pray, however, that it is a new beginning for you.

    I pray you begin to feel the pulse of conviction pursuing your heart. 

    I pray you begin to immerse yourself in the repentance and forgiveness you have spent your life proclaiming but never fully experiencing. 

    I pray that you begin to choose to live honorably and honestly for yourself and for your family.

    And I pray you will know the holy and saving power of God’s perfect and unconditional love. God loves you so much, Mark. Please ask for the strength and the help you need to be made whole. He does not forsake those he loves. He hasn’t forsaken me. He won’t forsake you either. 

  • Sexual Abuse Survivor Update: Mark Aderholt, International Mission Board & Southern Baptist Convention

    It has been over four months since Mark Aderholt, the man who sexually abused me in 1996 and 1997, when I was 16 years old, was arrested and charged with three felonies: two counts of Indecency with a Child–Sexual Contact and one count of Sexual Assault of a Child under the age of 17.

    This arrest made headlines because the Southern Baptist Convention’s mission arm, the International Mission Board, knew about the abuse, found it to be credible after an internal investigation in 2007, and did not report it to authorities or within the SBC, citing they could potentially face legal issues if they had let Aderholt’s future employers know that he sexually abused a teenager when he was a student at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. That’s why he was able to get a job pastoring in an SBC church two months after he resigned from the IMB, and climbed the ranks into a state convention executive position.

    Even after his arrest, the IMB held defensive ground until their then-president, David Platt, returned from remote Africa and found out about the “extremely disturbing” situation. He and Dr. Russell Moore, president of the SBC’s Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission (ERLC), called to apologize and asked what I wanted them to do. I said I wanted them to open up my case and others to make sure any sexual abuse or misconduct that was criminal was reported to authorities and to make sure there were no other victims during Aderholt’s tenure overseas. Platt went over his public statement to make sure it addressed everything I wished and that night, released it. The following day, SBC president J.D. Greear, who was also aware of the incident, announced the SBC was launching a sexual abuse study group which was funded $250,000 in September.

    I wanted to issue this update to address questions I’ve received since all this happened.

    • Mr. Aderholt will be facing the Tarrant County grand jury very soon–within the next few weeks from what I understand. I am meeting with the ADA and prosecutor for this case this week. If he is indicted, he will have the chance to enter his plea (guilty/not guilty/etc.)
    • I emailed the IMB to get an update and received a reply from the current interim president, Clyde Meador. Mr. Meador was aware of my abuse in 2007 and was one of the people I spoke to from the IMB about it back then. He said I should expect to hear from the third party investigators (I do not know who this group is) in fall. I have yet to hear from them.
    • I have not been contacted by anybody in the SBC about the sexual abuse study group and from what I have been able to see in my brief glances on social media, it appears relatively obscure as far as any actionable details.
    • There have been a few public panels put on by the ERLC and other SBC entities, but unfortunately, I have not seen any true action taking place that is any different than before.
    • I do not see anything new that helps prevent abuse, that is looking into past credible abuse, or that is offering support to known survivors of abuse within the SBC. At a minimum, I absolutely think there should be a fund to help survivors receive trauma-informed therapeutic help.
    • I’ve decided I need to do what I can to help other survivors. I’m writing and self-publishing a book called Healing Together: A Guide for Helping Sexual Abuse Survivors that will be out as soon as I can get it done. I am hoping by the end of the year at the latest. Following me on social media is probably the best way to find out about it if you’re interested. (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram)

    It may appear the SBC has a mountain of a task to climb and in many ways it does; that’s what happens when you allow crime and sin to dirty up under your rugs for so long.

    At the same time, it’s really not that difficult.

    How? They could be in contact with survivors to by writing a short email or a dialing up a quick phone call. Any words of, “How are you? How can we pray? How is your family?” from the powers-that-be who have made promises to reconcile these wounds would actually make a huge difference, at least to me.

    I have communicated my personal wishes and clearly stated that hearing nothing from the SBC would be painful. In a majority of the places where I stated this, those requests have gone unanswered. And as I predicted, the silence is painful. They know and yet they do not act.

    I was hopeful this summer when these big statements were made. That hope, however, has been tempered by silence and relative inaction. In my case, instead of closing the gap of mistrust caused by the SBC, it continues to widen…maybe a bit more slowly now, but the stitches are being torn apart and the wound is still raw and open.

    Lest you think I’m sitting in a puddle of tears, not all is in despair: I am most encouraged and supported by local authorities and law and order. Constant contact, support, sincere inquiries into wellbeing, victim support services, face-to-face meetings, “we want to make this right for you and here is how we are doing it,” and people keeping promises make the criminal side of this ordeal a bit more bearable. Also, a HUGE amount of support from online–other survivors, pastors I don’t know, and people I have met along the way–has also been a great source of encouragement.

    Nursing school is going well and we are excited to be in our new home for the holidays, ending what seems to be a constant stream of moving and rentals. Charlotte is 2 1/2 and it’s a fun and crazy age that has us laughing and crying and sometimes visits to urgent care for big bumps on heads. Tim’s work has been incredibly supportive in giving him time off to even financially assisting with some medical bills. Even a VPs Tim’s company of 10K+ employees pulled me aside once to ask how this case is going and how we are doing—he saw it in the local paper here. I was amazed he put the awkwardness away and asked, “how are you?” and it spoke life into my heart.

    That’s all I have for now. Don’t give up asking for what is owed. Don’t hesitate to report your abuse. Ask for help. And don’t give up hope, but at the same time, learn not to expect it from the places you think it should come from, like the church.

    That’s what I’m learning (again) anyway.

     

    [edit: Need to add this to my post: there are 2 leaders who’ve been constant & supportive of me in this situation: Ed Stetzer and Dr. Russell Moore. I understand many people have many different feelings about lots of issues surrounding them, but they have both been very supportive. Worth noting. I also know they hosted 2 of the panels I have mentioned that I’m happy for, but don’t think they (the panels) do much. However, I want to give credit where credit is due and we have been grateful for their prayers and support on many occasion.]

  • Let Your No Be Your Yes

    Let Your No Be Your Yes

    Just because you may hear “no” a million times doesn’t mean that the biggest YES–the calling for you to change the world in whatever you way you are meant to change it–diminishes.

    The “no” is water thrown next to the fire on the dirt.

    It doesn’t touch the flame.

    Keep going.

  • Trusting God’s Design

    I didn’t know much about personality profiles growing up. What I did know is after about 2 hours at church, 2 hours at a party, 2 hours on a school trip, 2 hours at a sleepover…I was done.

    I wasn’t angry. I didn’t dislike people. I wasn’t bored. I didn’t want to check out.

    But something inside me hit a threshold of sorts and I knew I needed to spend at least a few minutes by myself and recharge. Otherwise, my mind would get spacey, I’d become easily distracted, my speech would begin to falter, I’d even become more clumsy.

    Over time, I learned although this could cause me anxiety, it wasn’t the anxiety I wrestled with.

    It was simply my design as an introvert (and a far-reaching one at that).

    introverts-unite-individually-american-apparel-unisex-fitted-tee-lemon-w760h760

    I’m not too shy (usually). I love people. I love loving people. I adore hearing what journey they’re walking and what God’s doing in their lives. I’m good with people.

    As someone who has been, for the most part, self-employed for the last seven or eight years, I find a lot of quiet time in my own routine with writing and speaking. Now, as Tim and I entered a new season of life, with him as a youth pastor at a growing church, I find my time alone growing shorter and shorter. I know God knows how I’m wired and I know He gives me strength for every situation, but I often battle the process.

    It goes a little like this:

    1. YES! I am SUPER PUMPED about this youth retreat we’re having this weekend. Over thirty people are going! I love the girls we get to minister to and with. I LOVE seeing them learn and grow! Yay!
    2. Wait, how far do we have to drive?
    3. Hold up…lights out is how late?
    4. How much time will I have a chance to be by myself and recharge?
    5. My routine! My routine! Ack!
    6. Geez, Miller. That’s entirely selfish! You’re here to serve these students and your husband and these volunteers. SUCK IT UP. You’re not going to die from talking and listening to people for four days.
    7. Well, you’ll die a little bit. But it’s for Jesus.
    8. Really, Miller. SUCK IT UP. Good grief. You introverts are always overanalyzing and planning 78 of the conversations you think you’ll have and you actually won’t have…no wonder you’re exhausted already. This is NOT ABOUT YOU.
    9. (Hey, but God. You know you gave me a really empathetic and sensitive heart. You know this stuff is hard for me.)
    10. (Anne, I know. Just trust me.)

    It seems like such a small thing to trust–God’s design. Knowing He fully created me, my fears, my flaws, and my strengths. In ministry, it’s been difficult to see being an introvert as a gift…I can see it as a curse. I want to wear shirts that say, “No, really. I LOVE YOU! Even if I don’t seem like I talk much.” Church events are usually social events. Loud. Talking. Games. Counseling. It’s a challenge for an introvert.

    I’ve been looking forward to (and yet I’m still slightly anxious about) this weekend for a long time. It’s the first big event Tim and I get to lead (with the help of our wonderful volunteers!). I’m going to try and be EXTRA intentional about letting God fill in those places where I need Him to. I don’t want Him to change the way He created me, but I need to learn to trust the way He designed me in whatever season in which He calls me to minister.

    (And, yeah. Feel free to pray for this retreat! We’d be VERY grateful!)

  • Why the American Church is Not Going to Hell in a Hand Basket

    I know what the statistics say about the future of the evangelical American church.

    Our buildings are bigger, our lights are brighter, our programs are sleeker, our preachers are teaching, our pastors are shepherding and yet people are leaving out of the church in droves–especially my age (almost 35) and younger.

    • Some are leaving for good. God, the Church, religion…it’s just not part of our core anymore.
    • Some leave and plant other churches. We’re more entrepreneurial than ever so when we see something, in our opinion, that needs to be improved on, we know how to run a church. We’ve spent enough time within our well-oiled machines that we’ve been groomed to do it ourselves–just better, we think. More or less intimate. More or less community. More or less programs. More or less topical. More or less exegetical. More or less flash. More or less candles.
    • Some leave and go to the church down the road. And then to the other church farther down the road. We commit just long enough to wonder why we haven’t found community only to start all over again.

    And herein lies a problem: the categories of people I just defined are people who are already inside the church–whether it be a church building or a gathering in a living room or a coffee shop.

    We study, we plan, we program, we find scenic, peaceful pictures and slap encouraging Bible verses on them in hip fonts to post across social media. We create devotionals, printouts, and have a board or two on our Pinterest pages for quotes and for Jesus.

    Let me say there is nothing inherently wrong with studying, planning, programming or encouraging. I’m guilty of all those things, Pinterest boards included.

    However, if we fly out to 30,000 feet and take a look at the landscape, what do we see?

    I think we’ve become a little bit gluttonous in regard to our faith.

    At first, that statement sounds pretty innocuous. We’re to learn scripture, memorize it, encourage each other, and be faithful with the time and resources we’ve been given, right?

    I agree.

    At what point are we spilling out to others–to those who haven’t heard the truth and the power and the saving grace of the Gospel of the cross?

    Having grown up in the church, worked in the church, served in the church, and now, being married to a pastor, I hear all the time how, with each generation, society is becoming more and more post-Christian. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, “Just look at what happened in Europe!”…

    I’m a logical person. I love research and I love statistics. I geek out over spreadsheets and trends. Quantifying and qualifying things are one of my favorite hobbies.

    Yet, in spite of all the science and stats, I really don’t believe that the American church is going to hell in a hand basket, so to speak.

    Why not?

    I believe in the power of prayer.

    I believe God desires a true reviving of His church all over the world, including America.

    I believe truth always wins, even in an age where truth has been redefined and recategorized as relative and subjective and personal.

    I believe that the children and students of today are hungry for truth. I see it every week as they ask good and thoughtful questions about the Scripture they read. I see their struggle, and it’s a good struggle. 

    I believe the power of Christ that is in one person who’s faithful to worshipping, obeying, and joyfully sharing the saving grace of Christ is more powerful than 10,000 people who attend a church out of routine or tradition.

    And lastly, I believe there are enough people who believe like me–quietly hoping, seeking, praying, pleading, trusting and living out the Gospel that the numbers and statistics don’t matter.

    We will not lose to the self-fulfilling prophecy that the church in America is dying.

    Yes, the future of the church looks grim at times.

    But we understand it’s not that we need to (or can) fix what’s broken.

    We need to pray our faces off and be obedient so that what has been broken in the church can be made whole, made new, and made alive again.

    The same power that raised Christ from the dead lives in us.

    It’s time for us to take that power and let Him raise the dead through us.

  • Fight for Unity, or Don’t Fight at All: My Plea for Christians to Keep Your Opinions To Yourself

    When I was sixteen, my dad left the ministry. He did nothing wrong, but it was an ugly church-wide meeting full of Southern obstinacy. I saw men in our small church yelling at each other, accusing each other, accusing my father, accusing my mother, accusing the youth pastor. Some claims were insidious, others plan incredulous.

    I will never forget that Sunday in April. A fire rose inside me that rarely burns for much anymore. As shy as I am, as non-confrontational as I am, and – for that church – as female as I am, none of that mattered. I stood up, my whole body shaking and read verses upon verses out of the bible about unity. All those Bible drills came in handy. I flipped to Ephesians, to John, to Galatians.

    What I was taught in church about loving each other and what I was shown by the church were diametrically opposed.

    When I was through, I was met with cold stares telling me my input was not welcome. I rushed outside, up a fire escape, and wrote a letter to God I still have to this day.

    Give me a way to bring unity to the church. Or else, I’m gone.

    I didn’t hear an answer for a while, so I left. For five years, I went off on some dark roads which God has so graciously redeemed. I came back to His bride and found myself back in many situations where I would pray that same prayer (just without the “or else…”)

    In recent years and more specifically, the recent month, everyone who has an Internet connection has been exposed to many an exposé on pastors and other church leaders. The scandals, the sins, the full-open-letters pasted for all the world to see. We are an age of opinionated school-yard bullies with platforms and reach and nobody is winning.

    That fire is lit once more. I’m that sixteen year old girl again, shy and nervous of unwelcome stares, trembling with my Bible in hand…but I’m ready to fight.

    Here’s the thing.

    • If you don’t know the person you’re dragging through the mud, you have no scriptural basis to bring what he or she is doing to a public forum where anyone can read.
    • If you do not have an accountable relationship with them, they are not accountable to you (or to your blog, or your Facebook rants).
    • That person isn’t going to read your blog, or your comments on a blog anyway.
    • If you find it humorous or rejoice when a man or woman of God has been removed from ministry or celebrate when they are publicly humiliated somehow, you should mourn. The Father is grieving. Even if what they did was both terrible and true, there is never a reason to celebrate. Never.

    My bottom line request is this: If you’re not going to fight for unity, don’t fight at all. And don’t cause others to fight. Don’t bring people along with you in rejoicing (or making fun of, or condemning) for a fallen brother or sister. If you have a platform, use it to bring prayer for the church. Humble, pleading, grieving prayers. Don’t share the latest YouTube video of that person because “you just can’t believe it” and “it’s so wrong it’s ridiculous.” Move on. Sharing those things does not edify the body of Christ.

    The same grace that covers you covers the worst of us.

    Oh, and in that church service where my dad resigned? There was a girl there from my school who wasn’t a Christian. It was her second time visiting. As far as I know, she never returned. Heck, it took me five years for my faith in God and the church to recover from that situation.

    “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” – John 13:35

    “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” – Ephesians 4:29-32

    PS – I am turning comments off on this post. In the past, I have written similar posts on unity and have received comments that do not reflect love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I don’t want this to be another one. If you truly need to comment on this, you can contact me privately using the contact form on my website.

  • Surrender and Self-Sufficiency in the Church

    When I was nineteen years old, my grandfather was in his final hours of life after a long fight with cancer. He called each of his grandchildren into his room one at a time. I leaned over his fragile frame in order to hear the last words he would ever speak to me. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and could barely whisper the six words he spoke.

    “Never give up on church.”

    I told him I wouldn’t. But in order to keep my promise, I’d need to start making some significant changes in my life…like, actually going to church again. I had been out for a good three years, since my father left the ministry in a bloody battle of a business meeting.

    Over time and with conviction, I slowly let my walls down and tried to make good on my pledge to my grandfather. My actions stemmed more from wanting to keep my promise than actually being obedient to what God wanted, but eventually my change of behavior caused a change in my heart and I fell in love with the church in all of her magnificence and her flaws.

    I surrendered, slowly and timidly, to the call of unity God has placed on all His children. Surrender doesn’t come easily, especially when we’ve been hurt in the past. When we think about giving into something we used to push away from us, we’re met with an internal resistance. It’s easy to justify our actions that keep us walking the line between self-sufficiency and surrender.

    photo credit: Môsieur J. [version 9.1] via photopin cc

    As I’ve spent time talking to other Christians, and some who have even—in their own words—“left the faith,” or “left the church,” I’ve noticed a pattern so common it’s become perfectly acceptable without question. Someone enters into a relationship with a community of faith, and the programs or the legalism or the perceived lack of authenticity turns them away. It’s either too structured to have “organic” community (which is not a Biblical concept, by the way) or it’s so “organic” that relationships never grow because we don’t know how to grow them.  So we bail.

    I have a friend who’s an atheist but who stays in tune to what’s happening in different faiths. As he looked at the western Christian culture, it was easy for him to see the things that divide us. He bluntly asked me, “How can everyone in your faith be so divided yet claim to follow the same God?”

    Good question.

    I truly believe this break in our unity is a strategic plan of the enemy.

    Many Christians today have fallen into a culture that tells us we have the right to believe whatever we want to believe and are entitled to be right in our beliefs. And because of the surplus of platforms from which we can speak, never before our generation has a group of people been able to voice their beliefs so loud and clear.

    Some see this as progress. I see it as subtle (and at times, not so subtle) expressions of selfishness. Where in our proclamations and defenses of our personal beliefs do we find humility? Where do we find surrender?

    We don’t.

    In order to have healthy relationships with God and others, we must surrender. To God, we surrender our desire to live our lives for ourselves. Only by dying to ourselves—our human nature—can we truly live in the identity of who God created us to be. In order to embrace the person we are meant to be, we must let go of the person, the ego, we created.

    With others, we surrender our need to be right. We surrender our need to be heard. We trust in the paradox of finding peace in serving instead of demanding to be served and complaining about it when we aren’t.

    Surrender goes against our very nature to be independent. Surrender indicates we willingly choose to rely on others. We must rewire our thinking to recognize that needing another person (and being the person someone else needs) is not a weakness; it only strengthens us.

    ***

    (Most of this post was excerpted from my new book “Lean on Me: Finding Intentional, Vulnerable and Consistent Community.” It comes out this fall, but you can get a few free sample chapters here or preorder the book here.)

     

     

  • Mad Church Disease: Healing from Church Burnout is Updated, Expanded and Available with the Devotional Beating Burnout: A 30 Day Guide to Hope and Health

    Me with the very first copy of the original MCD in what used to be the Borders on West End in Nashville.
    Me with the very first copy of the original MCD in what used to be the Borders Books on West End in Nashville.

    In 2009, Mad Church Disease: Overcoming the Burnout Epidemic was published. Tens of thousands of people found hope and healing and the book was awarded Outreach Magazine’s “Vital Church Resource” Award. If you click on that link it takes you to the original book with the original reviews, so you can get an idea of what people thought of it.

    Then, unexpectedly in 2012, I providentially got all the rights back to the book. Considering there were only a few remaining in print, I knew it had to be updated & reprinted.

    In the mean time, Beating Burnout: A 30 Day Guide to Hope and Health was released as and became a featured devotional on YouVersion for a month or two, which was pretty neat.

    And now, Mad Church Disease: Healing from Church Burnout is back and ready to help you find healing in a revised and expanded fifth anniversary edition.

    Mad Church Disease BundleThe new, expanded edition of Mad Church Disease includes:

    • Over 40 pages of updated and new content
    • Five entirely new chapters
    • A focus on the first principle of healing from burnout: reconnecting with God
    • A new section on creating healthy environments
    • Extra study guide questions

    There are a few ways you can get your hands on these resources if you haven’t yet, or if you or your staff need a refresher. You can go the Amazon way:

    Mad Church Disease on Amazon.com (Kindle & Paperback)

    Beating Burnout on Amazon.com (Kindle & Paperback)
    Or, you can order them through me. With the Exclusive Team Bundle Special, you’ll get:
    • Get 2 Copies of Mad Church Disease
    • 2 Copies of Beating Burnout
    • PLUS the eBook of each book 
    • and the audio of Beating Burnout
    • Which is a $75 value for only $45 + S/H
    Self-publishing is hard. Really hard. But when it’s all done, there’s no pressure to meet any sales quotas or get on any best-seller lists. I didn’t need to re-write Mad Church, but I wanted to because deep in my heart I know that there are people struggling with their calling, their workload, and burning out. So I hope this little project can help you (or someone you know) rest and heal.
    ***