So, alumni weekend!
After a great time of worship and reminiscing and such at Hayward Wesleyan, I headed on out to Cable and WWC. And while I was driving, I was thinking about WWC, and how amazing it was and how much it changed me. And then Mercy. And how that changed me too, but in a different way. I feel like I talk about this a lot, and compare them a lot, but I can’t help it. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to write about it again.
Because on the drive from Hayward to Cable, I found myself with this feeling of loss. Even when I think about this stuff, I don’t often feel it, but for a little while there, I felt it. The wonderful things that happened in my life at WWC and were taken away by Mercy.
WWC was a wonderful, safe place for me. I came alive that year. I learned to trust. Things became clear. I grew in my relationships with both God and other people. I found my voice. At WWC, I was accepted and loved and valued like I’d never been before.
Because of Mercy, I found myself confused and unable to trust. I retreated into myself again. I’m afraid to trust God. I’m afraid to trust people. I’m afraid to trust the church and Christian organizations. Mercy has tainted those things for me. I’m always suspicious of Christian organizations now, afraid that they’re abusing their authority, using mind control tactics, brainwashing people. Because that’s what Mercy did.
I’m afraid to speak. I’ve lost my voice. I’ve retreated back into my shell, behind my walls again. Those walls that WWC broke down, through love and acceptance and clear teaching and community.
And I found myself, for a moment, grieving the loss of that freedom. That’s something I’m going to need to go through, I think. The process of grieving that loss, those things that Mercy stole from me.
And in processing all of that, I’ll begin building again. Those things I learned at WWC, they’re not gone. They’re still there, just buried. Shattered. But the pieces remain. Ready to be put back together.