The Wounded’s Mite

29 Mar

This post is part of a series of writings on spiritual abuse which I describe as PTCD which stands for Post-Traumatic Church Disorder.  For more articles on this topic, please search for the tag PTCD on my website.  

Photo courtesy of Aaron Robert Photography. Copyright 2014.

Every Sunday, I used to sit up front. I wanted to be up close, in the action, and able to absorb everything.  Being fully engaged used to be so easy, and came so naturally.  It didn’t really cost me much.  It was actually quite enjoyable.

Then my life was changed.  A new weather pattern entered my world with raging winds and pouring rain.  A period of darkness interrupted only by the flashes of lightning.  In its wake, I was left spiritually wounded and scarred forever.

Now my front row seat is empty.  As I enter the church, I slide into a back row hoping not to be noticed.  I may or may not sing.  I will certainly not greet those around me.

Others watching may judge my mood and posture.  The ushers may be frustrated that I refuse to move into the center of the row.  My neighbors might be put off by the fact that I didn’t greet them with a smile and hearty handshake.

They do not understand.

They do not know the sacrifice it is for me to walk through the door of a church, or the struggle to be in a room crowded with Christians. They cannot see my emotional turmoil as music about God’s love fills the room.  They do not comprehend the inner fear as someone on a stage claims they speak with God’s authority.

I am thankful for all those who are singing, and speaking, and greeting.  I am not cynical towards your actions – for I was once one of you.  May you worship from the overflow of your life.  May God see your sacrifice, and be pleased.  I am not down-playing or judging your hearts.

I am only sharing a different story – my story.  A story that I do not own, but one which I share with thousands of nameless victims.  A story written and planned by God.  He knows my silent tears, He sees my down-turned face, and hears my wordless prayers.

As others watch, what I give at church may not appear to be my best.

He, however, knows the amount of my sacrifice.

Small, but costly – it is my mite.


Truly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all; for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God, but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had.

Luke 21: 3, 4


David - Prof 2Dr. G. David Boyd is the Founder and Managing Director of EA Resources, a non-profit designed to provide resources to parents and churches who minister to emerging adults.

4 Responses to “The Wounded’s Mite”

  1. melindaedina March 29, 2016 at 17:19 #

    This is a good one David. There are too many people that are coming to church that are so deeply hurt that they cannot smile or join in. They are there and nobody wants to enter in their pain. Thank you Dave


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