Watered Garden

Hey, BA, I'm a former English teacher, English major, reader and writer and I never questioned it until I left. Go figure.

anyways, Happy Easter. Service was great this morning.

How ridiculous is that? It was y'all's money and y'all's time. You should have been able to spend both however you wished, though perhaps short of getting stinking drunk on Georgio Jessio wine reserved for the Moglet's use. In fact, even that wouldn't have warranted too much of hissy fit unless there was hurt involved.

Good grief.

Wasn't that weird?

One time when there was a youth advance and I was forbidden to go because I was over 30, Mr. Garden and I took off on a day trip to Athens and Hocking Counties. He decided not to go because I wouldn't be there, bless him, and we had a blast. I felt like I was playing hookey from life! He drove my little Toyota up and down hills and around curves at what seemed like breakneck speeds, we ate out in a real restaurant, and stayed out late.

Such fun!

Mr. Garden once did a teaching on speaking in tongues that his branch coordinator thought was the best she'd ever heard and should be taught to the WC. The limb coordinator, later coordinator of the FWC, told her, "To TEACH the WC, you have BE WC."

That was that.

Well, I don't post much any more but I had to get in on this one.

The TWI "dating" policy was absolutely absurd. I can't imagine a lousier way to show the love of Christ to someone than telling them they have to take a Bible class to go out for coffee or whatever.

Just...I can't really think of anything specific to say.

And the Spouse Corps thing? Had a former in-law go through that and instantly develop a "WE, the Way Corps" attitude that made me want to smack her in the mouth.

I know some wonderful people who are FLO and WC grads and I thank God for their lives. But the program (FLO) itself...sheesh, there were good times, but I am pleased to say I never took a whole lotta organic fertilizer off anyone. And the best thing I got out of FLO? Why, Mr. Garden, of course!

Sorry for the rambling. A little tired today.

Actually, when we were at Rome City, all parents with their children were exhorted in the very strongest terms to stay off the trampoline (or perhaps it was some other piece of play equipment) unless accompanied by an adult. No exceptions. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PLAY ON THIS THING ALONE. YOU MUST be accompanied by an adult.

So one day my 11-year-old son and I are walking by the thingamabob and here's a young lady bouncing to her heart's content, alone. My son politely mentioned to her the above mentioned iron clad, no exceptions rule, to which she quite haughtily replied:

"I am _________________ and my father is the director of the Family Way Corps. I can do anything I want to. The rules do NOT apply to staff kids anyway!"

We meekly apologized to the princess royal and slithered away.

There was also a time when I was helping supervise a playground full of toddlers when John N****z's sons strolled through the middle of it, carrying loaded .22 rifles. I politely suggested they choose another route in the future and they not so politely suggested I shut the hell up and mind my own business. Did I not know who they were, and their father had said they could carry any loaded weapon they chose to anywhere, anytime, and around anyone.

"Yes Massa, suh, yassah yassah."

The oldest son of the director was always getting into trouble at school and in town, but no one did anything about it.

We were kicked out because of our son's misbehavior. Wonder if the princes and princesses had set a better example, he would have noticed. I know he wasn't happy, but he was dirt on the shoe of every adult on grounds, while the staff children were snotty little hellions.

My son said years and years later, "It was like you were a Jew and they were the Nazis. Touch a wall, walk to slowly and BAM! someone was beating you with a spoon and yelling in your ear." My son has ADHD and it took him a while to process some of the routine through his buzzing little brain. We were strictly forbidden to give him any Ritalin or any medication. He was to be literally beaten into submission. The great and mighty men and women of the FWC were only too glad to help with that.

Thanks, Exxie. God bless you this day. And every day.

To answer the question above, Waysider, I never thought I would be a good anything. It is God's faithfulness and love that has brought me to this place in my life. I'm learning patience and kindness are more important than perfection in dress, and a tender heart is better than a freshly scrubbed floor. I've been set free from the curse of the law and I have the privilege of teaching two little boys about my Lord and Savior.

When we were dismissed from FWC and then tossed out of TWI, it was deemed to be my lack of submissiveness and godly womanhood that was responsible. I spent years condemning myself even to the point of having a plan for suicide. But God showed me that it's not my works that He's interested in, it's my heart.

I'm learning, and it's a process, to overcome the bitterness and condemnation I felt at TWI and even to forgive and pray for those who offended me.

I hope this answers the question somewhat.

As far as counseling, I never saw any evidence of training in counseling. Some people were more versed in Scripture, more in tune with the teachings of Jesus, and more humble than others. If indeed one came into TWI with counseling training, it was quickly obviated by a need to convince that person that s/he didn't know squat compared to the teachings of TWI.

When we lived in the south, we knew a lovely, smart woman who was working on her master's in psychology, got a Ph.D. in child psychology and was a brilliant, loving concerned person. She went into the WC, married a WC grad, and the last I knew she was working on The Way Magazine. What a stinking waste of talent and education! I haven't heard from her or about her for decades but I hope and pray she's out of that mess and helping adolescent kids somewhere.

Counseling: Your ADHD son doesn't need medications. He needs frequent, prolonged, painful beatings until he learns to submit or die. Even had one (spouse corps) WC grad advise me we should end his life if he didn't straighten up.

JohnIam, thank God you are with people who love and understand.

Yet, I can distinctly remember ministering healing, i.e. praying for people and seeing them get healed. One girl when I was a WOW had instant resolution of a vicious migraine. I don't recall the earliest years being like that. (1973-77). I do recall one time when my WOW sister, on her interim year from 4th WC, was ill and I offered to pray for her. She informed that a graduate of the Advanced Class should not get sick or should be able to believe for themselves without assistance. My reply was that I was not taking the Advanced Class, ever, because I knew I was weak at times and needed prayer and "ministering to."

Of course in FLO we were required to if we hadn't already.

But what a goofy thing to say. As I recall in the Book of Acts, Paul was stoned to death and the believers gathered around him and prayed for him until he was revived.

Another sad example of twisted scripture.

Anyone who had any kind of health issue was an affront to the doctrine of TWI. I would see people who were coping with blindness, cerebral palsy, or other chronic ailments for a while and then they were gone, vanished into thin air.

When I was diagnosed with IDDM I was immediately labeled as weak, without character, and surely having committed some grievous sin for God to smite me with this disease.

Caused at least in part by stress, adult onset type I diabetes, AKA juvenile onset diabetes, was probably brought on by a raging, flu-like viral infection combined with a genetic predisposition and aggravated by the stress of being in the FWC. But to them it was clear cut evidence of spiritual sickness and disease, which is only cured by amputation of the sick part from the healthy body.

So when I look back and realize that all these people are going to get sick and die, too, it seems very ironic to me. Do they think they will live forever, young, healthy and vigorous?

Mini #1, the subject of this thread, is starting 4th grade! Unbelievable that I held that little baby in my arms and tried to sing him to sleep, when was it, yesterday? And now he's nearly as tall as I am! We still get to see him occasionally, not often enough of course, but a few weeks ago he and his younger half-brother, Maxwell, spent the night. Max would not have any way but to share his brother's bed, and as I sat in a chair waiting for them to go to sleep, Mini #1 said sleepily, "I love you, Yia-Yia."

I had a real hard time not crying but I managed to say "I love you too, and I always will no matter what."

Keeps me going.

My prayers for Diane and you and your family. I'm so sorry this is happening.

Unfortunately, all too often the "church" or whatever body or association the predator is affiliated with, supports the perpetrator not the victim. Thus the organization is served, but Christ is not.

If that was my son or grandson the perpetrator would be singing soprano. If he was singing at all.

It was, as I recall, Christmas Eve of 1978. Mr. Garden and I were on our way home in a really heavy snowstorm, just us and the puppy, Brandy. We drove a VW Beetle. We had stopped spent Christmas Even with relatives and then attended a service at HQ. Mr. Garden was a college student and we were driving back to Athens, Ohio.

The little VW Bug was recalcitrant at best, and really hated the cold weather and snow. Several times we had to stop, shut off the engine, and wait for several minutes. It was a real nightmare of a ride, bitterly cold in a car that didn't provide any heat. We made it to Nelsonville, Ohio, at 1:00 AM on Christmas morning, and just over the railroad tracks the little car coughed discreetly and died. Finito. Nada.

We sat there wondering what to do. Most of our friends had gone to spend Christmas with their parents. One fellow we knew who actually lived in the area resided with his mother, who was not in good health and we hesitated to awaken him on such an icy morning. There was not one other soul in sight, no porch lights were on. The only sound was the gentle hiss of falling snow.

As we tried in vain to stop shivering and to get the bug to turn over, what to our wondering eyes should appear but a very nice car headed in the other direction. As we sat watching, the car passed us, drove over the railroad tracks, and made a U turn. The driver pulled in ahead of us and Mr. Garden went up to the driver's window to explain our situation. The driver, a middle-aged Black man, offered to take all three of us home.

We hastily piled into his blessedly warm car, abandoning the Volkswagen for the time being. He drove us right up to our back door in Athens, refused gas money, and drove off into the night. He never told us his name or where he lived, or what on earth he was doing driving around on a snowy Christmas morning. He did say he lived in the area and had "just decided to go for a drive." Yeah, right!

We got into the house we shared with other believers and even found that our housemates' cat had decided to make an appearance after a couple of months of being lost.

We fed the cat, fed the dog, and snuggled up for a long winter's nap, only to realize the next morning that we had been rescued by an angel. I'm sure of it.

Wierwilles, father and son, both smoked heavily. I remember being told in my early days that my believing could overcome the natural tendency of the body to develop diseases as a result of cigarette smoking.

I quit smoking.

No diseases secondary to smoking. Yet at least.

Whatever you believe, now or later, Joey rests in the loving arms of Jesus. And I can tell you I know this much -

Jesus really really loves children....

The mother of a good man. Man she rest in peace.

Good for you!

"The Word is The Way and The Way is The Word." something like that. Pathetic.

And yes, I personally believe this encouraged people to confuse the two. Sorry, my God is so much bigger than anything TWI could ask or think or hope or imagine.

It's Algebra 101: If A equals C and B equals C then A equals B. If God equals The Bible and the Bible equals the Ministry then God equals the Ministry also. I think that's what they were getting at.

One time when a dearly beloved family member was dying I saw this weird thing in the corner of the room. It was black and conical shaped, about five feet high, and had straw-like covering, like a witch doctor or something. I thought I was hallucinating.

The kids Exxie saw could have had progeria, a genetic anomaly that causes premature aging.

I still "sense" a presence via a chill that runs down my spine but I don't always know if it's good or evil. And I never go through the "cookie jar" steps at all.

I always thought that screaming and bitching about trivial stuff like that was evidence of a lack of self control rather than deep spirituality.

I mean, what is the big deal? So the girl ate garlic! Get over it! So you don't like the lighting? Oh, right that must surely mean there are devil spirits about? There was one time when a transformer blew and the Convo was plunged into darkness. That was of course another devil spirit tripping a switch.

I spent a great deal of time after the first week exhausted and napping during afternoon sessions, staying home to "get a few things done" and falling asleep. It got boring pretty quick.

I was at a branch meeting on the left coast where the young BL declared that if someone left the Household of The Way, "at that very moment the spirit within you dies, and shortly thereafter, your physical body shall die also, because it is impossible to exist outside the Household of Faith." Scared the daylights out of me. This guy worshiped LCM and may well have practiced in front of a mirror and with a tape recorder to be able to accurately mimic his mannerisms and speech patterns. For years I was convinced that if anyone on WayDale or here found out my identity, either the devil or one of LCM's minions would hunt us down and kill us or at least do some kind of harm, slander, whatever.

A few here figured it out anyway, and that's fine, but I don't want my name or my family's names all over the place even now, even knowing that TWI is so impotent an IV infusion of Viagra wouldn't wake them up.

We lived in Athens, Ohio during that class. It was a wonderful financial windfall for the townies who owned business like restaurants. Of course, we were taught to be notoriously bad tippers by VPW himself, though Mr. Garden and I felt quite differently. Many bars and restaurants just closed down for the summer months as a rule but stayed open for business during those two weeks.

My own recollection was that in some ways for me personally, it was a giant pain in the patootie. We shared a large house with some other folks, one of whom was a 6th WC grad who was the branch leader lady, and we actually had to move out and find another house to rent so her friends and family could squat in the house we had originally rented with another couple. I don't know if the other couple moved or not. Then Miss BL sent some people over to squat with us for the two weeks. I of course was expected to be their servant. In both places, I recall having one heckuva time convincing the "guests" to leave my dog in the house, this is not a farm, it's a town, and he could get hit by a car or picked up by the dog patrol or stolen, LEAVE HIM IN THE HOUSE!!! At least one of our "guests" was known to Mr. Garden, thanked us for the room, and minded her own business. But still, my resentment probably came from being ordered up like a pizza without asking. Of course no one paid or offered to pay or even to take us out to dinner. I stayed the heck away from getting involved with "hosting" not that a mere FLO grad would have been spiritual enough to do so.

I don't recall anything about him saying he had to cast out devil spirits. The Convo wasn't anyplace I regularly went. I do remember there were a lot of summer colds/coughs/sneezing that year and he rebuked the ill and told him to "renew their minds" because they got on his nerves. And I remember him having a fit because some girl ran up to him and gave him a kiss and she had been eating garlic.

Maybe she thought he had a vampire spirit!

Exactly!