I'm starting to get lost.
It could be because I've not been well these last couple of days and haven't completely followed the thread. Now I *can't.*
So in keeping with "I am a former SDA," here's a little more of why the "former."
That boyfriend I met right out of high school, and married within the SDA church, turned out to be a drug addict/alcoholic and very abusive. The counsel from the church was to stay with him; divorce was wrong, God would take care of me, and the children needed an intact home. When I told the pastor some of the specifics, he expressed concern that "the congregation may want to disfellowship him if he's doing those things," but no help was ever offered as far as getting me safe.
During that period I was hospitalized numerous times for depression. This being a small town, the nearest mental health facility was more than an hour's drive away. The lady who had been our Bible teacher, and now served as sort of a lifestyle mentor, an older lady who was a major pillar in the church, refused to render assistance in helping my children to be able to visit me when I was hospitalized. "Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind," she said, reasoning that if I missed my kids enough I'd straighten up and quit going to the hospital. Even when my drug addicted husband was between jobs and refused to look for work, I was counseled not to do so myself, because as a mother my place was in the home.
During one of the weekly fellowship meals, after Sabbath service, my husband ordered me to get up and bring him some more juice to drink. At that moment I was holding one child while feeding the other, and indignantly asked him when he'd lost the use of his legs. That's when a deacon stood up, glared at me, smiled at him, and brought him the juice. Oh, how hubby loved that one....
My husband was a world-class slob who made housekeeping impossible. He would come home after I'd cleaned the house from floor to ceiling, zero in on some insignificant thing I'd neglected (like polishing the doorknobs or dusting the top of the refrigerator) and then proceed to trash the place. He didn't believe in picking up his own messes. He said and I quote, "That's what a wife is for." He wouldn't even so much as flush the toilet behind himself. But people visiting from church would judge *me* by the mess, simply because I was the wife and mother. Several of them, independently of each other, left copies of "The Adventist Home" with me. When one of the church members pulled hubby aside and whispered confidentially to him, "You really need to get on your wife more about keeping the house up," oh BOY did he have fun passing that message along.
Things became so bad at our house that I myself picked up the phone and called child protective services. I was a wreck, often suicidal, and their father was of course an abusive alcoholic/addict. Neither one of us was capable of being an effective parent. At first CPS just tried respite; took the children out of the house for a couple of weeks, then brought them back. I was already feeling like a failure as a mother because my children had been in foster care, and was in the depths of depression, when the following incident happened.
It so happened that the family who had taken my daughters in as foster children, visited the church that particular Sabbath. Things like that happen in a very small town. Well, the foster family had 12-year-old twin girls who had thoroughly enjoyed my daughters, and my 3-year-old was in turn nuts about them. One of the twins scooped my daughter up in her arms and invited her to sit with them. I consented. Later my daughter got up to go to the bathroom. What I didn't know was that the pastor's 5-year-old daughter had also gone to the bathroom around the same time, and that the pastor's wife had checked on her after a few minutes and found them both playing in the bathroom. The pastor's wife told my daughter to sit with me. So, knowing that I had given her permission to sit with the twins, but the pastor's wife had told her to sit with me, my 3-year-old daughter stood in the aisle next to my seat looking confused. Not knowing what the pastor's wife had said, I told her, "It's OK, honey, you can go sit with your friends if you want to." She cautiously started up the aisle. At that point the pastor actually interrupted his sermon in mid syllable, addressed me directly and snapped, "Will you please take care of your children?" Not what I needed in my current state of mind, especially to have him word it like that. I took care of them all right. I scooped them up and walked right out. (Thank God for the children's Sabbath School director, who later whispered to me, "I saw what happened, and my sympathies are with you." Otherwise I might have gone *completely* nuts.)
Even my abusive ex-husband sympathized with me on that one, and since the pastor was unavailable and I was far too upset, he discussed the issue with the pastor's wife. She took the attitude of, "The pastor feels children should sit with their parents," and when told we wouldn't be coming back to the church without an apology, she answered, "I don't think it's right to go around demanding apologies from people."
So much for them.
This attitude is not a congregational thing; it's denomination-wide. That fact was demonstrated to me later. Things remained unsafe in our house, and ultimately the children were removed until I divorced their father. CPS didn't *tell* me to do so; they didn't have that right. But that's what it took. When he was no longer in the picture, I got my children back. In the meantime, while I was dating my now deceased second husband, I was listening to a Voice of Prophecy broadcast. My children were still in foster care at this point but would come home soon after. It was a Mother's Day edition, and in putting mothers on a pedestal, the speaker said and I quote: "By the way,
no true mother worthy of the name would ever entrust the care of her child to someone else."
I just started bawling. Second hubby held me in his arms and said that the statement insulted him too; his birth mother had given him up for adoption. To listen to VOP's rhetoric, even getting a babysitter now and then makes a mother unfit. This was the last time I ever had anything to do with Adventism.
Aside from the personal experiences, I also have come to view Bible interpretations in a different way, but that's another post.
So this explains why I am no longer an Adventist, and I doubt I've even scratched the surface.
Nothing against any individual Adventists personally.