children are a blessing

Quiverfull Daughters: The Making of a Helpmeet

Aug 032010

TLC’s 19 Kids & Counting: The Duggar Family on How To Prepare For Courtship & Marriage

“Helpmeet” is such an odd-sounding word to modern ears! But it resonates well in the lingo of the King James Bible. Girls born to Quiverfull families begin their training for the life’s calling as a Helpmeet [aka wife and homemaker] almost at birth.

Girls are born for one and only one reason: to serve a husband. In that capacity, as his helpmeet, she will bear and raise his children, feed as many children as God sends on whatever income he earns, may raise a garden and animals or run a home-based business [with his approval], may home birth and will certainly homeschool all of her children.

Becoming a successful, multi-tasking helpmeet is not something you just “do.” Something that important cannot be left to chance. The training starts almost at birth with “child training.” Moms have a number of helpful “ministries” to turn to for child training guidance. For infants and toddlers two of the best known are Ezzo and the Pearls—both of whom are very controversial to the secular world. We’ll briefly look at each.

Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo developed the popular and often criticized programs “Babywise” and “Growing Kids God’s Way.” As with any program there IS some good and helpful information as well as a lot that many people find abhorrent. “Babywise” teaches new parents to adhere to rigid schedules and rules for bedtime, breast feeding on a parent-friendly schedule and bedtime rigidly enforced with few, if any, interactions with parents after “lights out” no matter the tone of the child’s cry.

“Growing Kids God’s Way” is a huge undertaking for parents. Both parents must attend each session and both must complete weekly homework. This program met tremendous success in conservative churches and megachurches during the late 90s and on. [They also do offer a single-parent version now.] Parents are taught to take back their lives by having a parent-centered, rather than child-centered home. [For the gist of the controversies see www.ezzo.info, but please note this IS a biased site.]

Michael and Debi Pearl of “No Greater Joy Ministries” are some of the most controversial child training advocates in the world today. Several deaths have occurred in homes following the Pearls advice. [NOTE: I am NOT saying in any way that the Pearls are responsible for the deaths, just that the parents were known to follow their methods.]

Their book, To Train Up a Child, advocates corporal punishment to a degree seldom seen today. The idea is to compel instant, willing and cheerful obedience at all times from even the youngest children. Failure to comply results in physical punishment. Parents are taught that children are born with a sinful nature and that they must begin early to “train” the child in the “way he should go” as is taught in Proverbs 22:6. Therefore, it is appropriate to even “chastise” babies with a switch—even one made of plumbing supply line. Parents are told

“Training does not necessarily require that the trainee be capable of reason…”[Pearl & Pearl, Chapter 1.]

With this background in mind we can now try to piece together the “training” of a future helpmeet. In her infancy the girl we will call “Jerusha Faith” may be enticed with a toy and swatted for reaching for it. She may be fed only when Mama says and not when her tummy says she is truly empty and hungry. She may be left in the throes of colicky insomnia to cry it out alone for hours on end. In short, she is learning, like a Nun, to deny her “self.”[Note: it is important to remember that ALL families are different not all my use these practices and some may even agree with the critics!]

This dying to self will include seemly innocuous phrases like the one the Duggar family uses which is summed up by the acronym “JOY”—Jesus First, Others Second, Yourself LAST. (Duggar family website, FAQ) Even in infancy little Jerusha Faith is learning that she is not important as herself. She is merely important when she is doing the will of her authority figures—in this stage her parents.

As she grows older, should she dare to be “wayward” in any way she can expect to be chastised with the rod or, in more humane families, may be “tomato staked” meaning she is expected to stay right with Mama and do only what she is told to do for a set period of time.

The next stage of training begins at about school age. It can be summed up as “the cult of character.” For Quiverfull families, like the Duggars, who belong to Bill Gothard’s Advanced Training Institute homeschooling program, “Character” will be the focus of education throughout the school years. Jerusha Faith and her siblings will likely take 3 complete trips thru the famous “Wisdom Booklets” which teach each of the Gothard-defined character qualities. So much focus is placed on these qualities that other educational subjects are often severely neglected. Some mothers are more creative in this training than others and one book they may use to enhance creativity is Marilyn Boyer’s Fun Projects for Hands-On Character Building.

For girls one character quality receives even greater emphasis begining just before puberty: Virtue or Purity. Beginning with books such as “The Princess and the Kiss” by Jennie Bishop:

“On the day she came into the world, the royal couple gave their daughter a very special gift from God—her first kiss” (Bishop, 1999, p. 2).

From that moment on she will be surrounded with an odd mixture of encouragement and suspicion all aimed at keeping her not only technically a virgin, but totally untouched by any man’s hands or lips until her wedding day. [Of course, her Father may kiss her….]

Some families may have their Jerusha Faith and her Father participate in a Purity Ball. Her father will accept her promise to remain pure and give her a “purity ring” as a reminder of her promise. Her mother may do a study with her (and possibly other like-minded mothers and daughters) of Stacy McDonald’s book “Raising Maidens of Virtue” . Mrs. McDonald cautions parents that“certain yearnings [can be] awakened too early [and] can cause all kinds of temptations and trouble.” (McDonald, pp. 161-162). This study teaches girls the importance of her “purity:”

Part of your [parents'] responsibility to God and TO YOU is to guard your purity and insure you are faithful to your future husband EVEN NOW…..Emotional purity involves saving your romantic feelings for your husband…You will be able to offer him your WHOLE HEART on your wedding day—not just bits and pieces that are left. (McDonald, p. 162) [emphasis added]

McDonald also cautions girls not to read romance novels which may lure them into fantasizing about a “perfect husband” (McDonald, p. 162), citing Hebrews 13:5 which reads in part “and be content with such things as ye have….”

On her own, or with a sister or mother, Jerusha Faith may read Beautiful Girlhood—a classic for Chrisitan girls. Her parents may, however, remove or censor some material in Karen Adreola’s revision of this book since it advocates completing your education and being able to support yourself and a family if the need should arise later in life as well as the chapter about boys.

A little later in her teens, just before courtship “season,” Jerusha Faith may be found reading “Before You Meet Your Prince Charming”—a book recommended to elementary school children by one of the Duggar girls.(“18 Kids and Counting,” TLC, “School Daze” episode. See Youtube for complete episode.) Her parents may allow her to read specially written “courtship stories,” such as those written by the Castleberry family, which emphasize parental approval, waiting on God and trusting the Lord and your father. Mostly, this pre-courtship and courtship phase will be spent as a daughter “at home” serving her own father in any way she can. [See: Return of the Daughters (check Youtube) and So Much More by the Botkin Sisters.

With her character trained, her mind directed to thoughts of others and her purity guarded what’s left for Jerusha Faith to do? Plenty! While still in diapers, she will begin learning to help with simple household chores. She will definitely have chores to do almost from the moment she learns to walk. Like Mrs. Duggar, her mother may use the Managers of Her Home or Managers of Her School to schedule her day and may pin a Chore Pack on her children to remind them to be diligent in doing their chores!

Naturally, all of these chores can be “supplemented” with corrective chastisement as necessary. Jerusha Faith will need to model cheerful, willing, and immediate obedience to her siblings—some of whom she may be assigned to help with their own chores or with other tasks like getting dressed. By early elementary school she will be very experienced in the care of infants and toddlers thanks to her mother’s need for help and the consistent arrival of new siblings.

About the time she is in her “tween” years Jerusha Faith will be expected to begin formally learning the housekeeping tasks, social skills and other practical knowledge she will need as her future husband’s helpmeet and mother of his children.

While it is important to remember that all families are different, one popular “program” for training girls and teens in these skills centers on Ann Ward’s huge Training Our Daughters to Be Keepers At Home. Ward, who styles herself “Mrs. Craig (Ann) Ward,” on the title page offers a Ph.d. in housekeeping, practical nursing, child care, practical handcrafts and much more.

Each of the SEVEN years of this program has a very strong spiritual development component—usually featuring a classic Christian book. (For supplemental materials see the Unofficial Training Our Daughters web site.) Should Jerusha Faith marry a missionary to the 3^rd world or a backwoods homesteader, once she graduates from Ward’s program she is good to go—even free birthing her own child if necessary. This book uses the “holy grail” of cookbooks—the Sue Gregg whole grain books which fueled the “grind your own wheat” to bake your own bread movement among right-wing Christian families.

Jerusha Faith is now ready for the next stage in life—the ultimate stage—marriage and motherhood. She and her parents will be reviewing Mrs. McDonald’s advice to be sure she is “ready:”

…be well prepared for your groom when he comes. He will find you well-equipped to your position has his honored helpmate with your lantern filled, radiating purity. You will ease into motherhood with confidence, grace and an eager desire to serve. And, if you continue in your diligence serving here at home, you will be a much more organized and prepared homemaker….” (McDonald, p. 163)

During her years as a daughter at home, Jerusha Faith will be a sort-of “helpmeet in training” for her father. Non-quiverful, non-Patriarchal families often find this very odd—after all Dad has a wife. She will run errands, provide child care, do chores, plan and cook meals, help on the farm or in her father’s business if appropriate. If her father approves she may even start a home-based business. Basically she is to “serve” her family in any way she can—Jesus First, Others Second, Yourself forgotten by this time in her life. (See the Botkin Sisters, above, or blogs such as Firmly Fixed on the Father or Aspiring Homemaker.)

Finally the day Jerusha Faith and her parents have been praying for: God has sent the man who wants to marry her! With her father’s blessing, the courtship can begin. It will likely be long and --rarely, if ever, will the couple be alone. One of the foundational books of the movement, A Full Quiver by Rick and Jan Hess sets the tone of what Dad will be looking for in a future son-in-law:

Strive to build Christian discipline and habits before marriage…..Another thing, especially for men, finish your education and training as as much as God allows, get established in your law firm, assembly line or home business, then get hitched to your sweetie” (Hess & Hess, 1990, p.) 137

A Godly man who is able to fully support not only a wife but a rapidly growing family are the only men who need apply for Jerusha Faith’s hand. Whether she likes the man or not, or has even met him, is not always very important—she is to trust God and her father in this matter. She will spend time in prayer as will her parents who have been praying about this man since her birth. It may be at this time, too, that she fully learns the “facts of life” and what will be expected of her in marriage.

Let’s leave Jerusha Faith for now and see what went on in a real Quiverfull Courtship—that of Joshua Duggar and his wife, Anna. The Duggars, as a Quiverfull and Patriarchal family, view their family in terms of a chain of command with God at the top and the father of the family as the “head” of the family. Bill Gothard’s ATI &IBLP teaches this as the father’s “umbrella of authority” over his family.

The use of an umbrella to symbolize protection is commonly understood and accepted. In the insurance industry, an overall coverage of protection is referred to as an “umbrella policy.” In the Bible, similar symbols teach the concepts of provision, protection, headship, and leadership.

The use of this symbol in relation to the family is to give special encouragement to fathers to protect, instruct, lead, and provide for their wives, sons, and daughters. (http://billgothard.com/bill/teaching/authority)

When Joshua Duggar, met Anna Keller in a concession stand line at an ATI-homeschool event, he felt sure that she was “the one” God had chosen for him. He “knew” because he had been taught since childhood to be on the lookout the future wife God hand-picked for him.

I was taught to wait for God’s best in my life partner. But as time went along and I grew older it was harder to keep my heart only for the one that God had for my life partner. (

Josh and Anna Duggar blog

)

Josh spoke to his father about courting and was first counseled to pray, to listen carefully to God to be sure he was hearing God’s message correctly. After a visit by the Keller family to the Duggar home, Anna’s father asked her if there was any one man God was leading her to. Was she called to be someone’s wife? When she said she thought it was Josh, her father agreed. After the visit, Josh too, told his father he was sure. This resulted in a “virtual” courtship—supervised phone calls or Skype calls etc. Anna remembers her parents’ teachings on courtship:

Like Joshua I was raised in a Christian home, and my parents encouraged me to save my whole heart & purity for the one that God had for me. As a young girl, my parents told me that it was normal to have desires & thoughts, but that it was my responsibility to commit my future to the Lord and trust God to lead me in His timing. (

Josh and Anna Duggar blog)

On their show, and in their book, Jim-Bob and Michelle and their children return time and again to the discussion of not giving “pieces of your heart” away by dating. Choosing a spouse is the single most important thing after accepting the Salvation of Jesus Christ.

The Duggars teach their children to “guard their heart” in many ways. Courtship, not dating is one such way. Another is being very careful of the images and words the put into their brain. Limiting TV and Internet, and parental approval of reading material and music are another way the children are taught to “guard their hearts.”

Not being alone with a member of the opposite sex and only very limited touch is a very visible way of keeping pure. The Duggar children were also encouraged not to think “wrong thoughts” –which Joshua confesses was as hard for him as for any other young man. (Josh and Anna Duggar blog) As parents Jim-Bob and Michelle take time to help their children deal with such thoughts and encourage them with Scripture and prayer. (20 and Counting by Jim-Bob and Michelle Duggar and the Duggar family website and TLC’s 19 Kids and Counting).

Like most Quiverfull couples, Josh and Anna had a longer courtship than their engagement, the thinking being that courtship is “getting to know you” and engagement is “all but married” so “temptations” come into play and must be fought off. During this time Josh focused on becoming a provider. On TV we were shown how they re-did an old rental house to live in and how Josh was developing a used car sales lot to support them. Another difference between the Duggar courtship and other even more Conservative families was when Josh proposed to Anna he was allowed to slip the engagement ring onto Anna’s hand himself. This is not always the case. Since the ring symbolizes the coming “transfer of authority” over the young woman from her father to her husband-to-be [and is only final at the wedding] the father sometimes places the ring on the woman’s finger (see the blog Kristina’s Keepsakes).

More from Hopewell:

A FULL QUIVER OF INFORMATION [my information only site]http://quiverfullmyblog.wordpress.com/
Personal Blog http://hopewellmomschoolreborn.blogspot.com/

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum! Comments are also open below.

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NLQ recommended reading:

‘Quivering Daughters‘ by Hillary McFarland

‘Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement‘ by Kathryn Joyce

Mayhem On The Homefront: Fighting The Good Fight

4 ~ MOTH: Mayhem On The Homefront!, More from NLQ ... No Responses »

Aug 022010

by Vyckie

It’s been a while since I’ve written an update on my family. The younger kids have been gone to camp and visitation with Warren ~ so I’ve been trying to relax and de-stress this summer ~ although that hasn’t quite worked out like I planned.

At least once a week, my counselor, Deb, and I have been working on my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder using EMDR which is something I did not want to try when my kids were home ~ just in case I turned into a psycho lady from processing past trauma.

The first step in processing was to identify my primary negative cognition ~ which, we figured out is: I can’t win. When Deb asked me, on a scale of 0 to 10 how strongly I feel/believe that I can’t win, I responded, “It’s at least an 11.”

“And worse than that,” I told her, “is I keep trying ~ even knowing that I’m doomed before I even start ~ it’s total insanity!”

So we’ve been working on that …

I’ve also spent much of my time over at John’s house with him reading to me in his deep, soothing voice ~ he read, American Gods by Neil Gaiman in which a whole big ugly war ~ between the old tribal gods and the new gods of technology, media, celebrity, etc. ~ was nothing more than a two-man con instigated by the All-Father and a Norse god who both thrive on blood and contention. The protagonist put an end to it by explaining the game to the other gods who then quit fighting each other and went back to their regular business of getting people to believe, follow, sacrifice, etc.

We also read Anything Can Happen by George Papashvily ~ John did the broken-English accent so well that I felt like I was actually listening to the old Georgian immigrant himself telling me all his adventures of coming to America ~ very cool.

For all my efforts to avoid conflict and drama this summer, it seems there’s always something ~ and the current “something” involves deplorable behavior on the part of presumably intelligent, Christian adults ~ some of whom I have considered my friends ~ which, honestly has me disconcerted and heartsick enough to think, “Why bother?”

Which to me is too scary of a question to ask since I know that I do not have any really good answer for it these days ~ so my “I can’t win” cognition is pushed up to a 12 or 13 on that 0 – 10 scale.

My Uncle Ron recently emailed me an article, “Why Am I Here? Our Struggle For Meaning, In The World And Church” by Robert Jensen.

In his discourse, Jensen, who is not a theist, asks the question, “When the Christian world sometimes seems split about evenly between intolerant fundamentalists and ineffectual liberals, why should we struggle for a Christianity that is truly radical in theology, ethics, and politics, in principle and in practice?”

In response to his own question, Jensen tells about Abe Osheroff, “a radical [secular] activist who spent his 92 years struggling to contribute to a better world.”

(Watch the video ~ otherwise what follows won’t make much sense ~ sorry, Mimi!)

After watching this little clip, I wrote back to Ron:

Thanks for sharing this sermon with me. It was actually inspiring until I watched the trailer for the documentary about Abe Osheroff ~ and that took me right back to all my old Christian apologetic arguments, esp. ~ how can we have an ethical obligation to ”fight the good fight” if there is no God? ~ and since Abe says the good fight is already lost anyway ~ then it really is counterintuitive to continue to struggle.

I keep thinking that, taking the idea of “survival of the fittest” from evolution ~ if by our fighting and struggling and resisting, we are actually strengthening the enemy that’s going to consume us, why not just passively allow ourselves to be overcome so that we’re merely food (and if we live a soft, frivolous, indulgent life ~ we might not even be nourishing food) without also being exercise and a challenge to make the enemy stronger and more ferocious?

Not that such philosophizing actually stops me from resisting [I'm not] allowing myself to be overcome ~ it is rather tempting though since I am quite tired of the struggles …

Whenever life gets all crazy and unmanageable ~ I set to work cleaning my house, since clutter is something I know I can get a grip on and when my house is all in order, I believe that I can think straight and not be quite so stressed out. So ~ that’s what I’ve done. The yard, which had been neglected all summer ~ is now beautiful ~ all weeded and mowed and trimmed.

Although I hired a kid from the Salvation Army youth group to do most of the yard work, Heather and her husband also came over to help out.

As we were pulling up weeds ~ some of which were as tall as I am, Heather was coming up with all sorts of sermon illustrations. I think my weed mess was bad enough to provide a month’s worth of sermon material ~ LOL

When we got to the roses, one of the neighbor kids was giving Heather detailed instructions about how to properly prune the bushes. He sounded like a gardening expert, and his mother explained that he learned about pruning from a recent sermon illustration at their church.

Ugh ~ that was triggering to me. I tried to not let it get to me ~ but couldn’t help stating that the idea that God has to continually whack us down ’til we appear almost dead ~ and we should accept this “pruning” gratefully with the promise that this will cause us to flourish and become even more productive and more beautiful in the future ~ really, really sucks.

Personally, I’m sick and tired of the pruning. I’m not feeling grateful. I’m feeling cut down and chopped up. Even though I don’t actually believe in God ~ I do wish He’d leave me to just grow wild and scraggly and if my soul is in danger of growing weak and unhealthy from lack of proper pruning ~ then so be it ~ just leave it alone and let it go.

So here’s the crazy part: despite my anger, frustration and discouragement ~ I transplanted a volunteer maple tree over on the south side of the house where we really could use some shade ~ which made me feel so hopeful ~ like the young couple that just moved in next door and planted a new tree in their front yard.

As I watched them planting that tree ~ with their little baby playing nearby ~ my heart felt stung by their happy expectation of good things for the future.

Truthfully, such optimism baffles me ~ so I was especially surprised (even a little annoyed) to find it there in my own head as I’ve been carrying a pitcher of water outside every day to water the young maple. The tree seems to be taking root. I can actually imagine my family someday sitting in its shade and gazing up with delighted facsination as hundreds of helicopter seeds gracefully drop from the branches and whirl to the ground …

Inside, Chassé and I have been doing the “kiddie shuffle” in which everyone gets moved to a new bedroom and all their stuff gets sorted, tossed out, donated, and whatever’s left over is organized. Berea got her own apartment, Andrew gets Berea’s room, Chassé gets Andrew’s, Lydia gets Chasse’s ~ Hazelle and Wesley stay put, but we did get their rooms looking pretty good too.

Hazelle came home from her dad’s early and has been helping out when she’s not catching up with her friends whom she hasn’t seen all summer. Andrew and Lydia are home now too ~ they’re both thrilled with their new bedrooms and so far, they are keeping their stuff neat and tidy.

Wesley will be home tomorrow. Recently, I was talking to him on the phone and he told me, “When I get home, as soon as I see you, I’m going to hug you REALLY BIGLY!!!”

LOL ~ can’t wait! I’ve missed all my little ones ♥ ♥

And now Chassé is off to camp in Wisconsin. Yesterday morning I was awakened by her text message, “I love you so much” ~ and a little later, again ~ “I love you, Mom!”

Many huge yawns and a cup of coffee later, I texted back, “I love you too. Are you having fun?”

No ~ it turns out that she’s not having fun since learning that her friend’s mother just died in a car accident. “Please don’t go dying on me, okay? I love you very much.”

I’ve said it before ~ I still agree that children are a blessing. This is one way my children bless me: they make it really hard to get very depressed and absolutely impossible to give up and simply allow myself to be overcome by that which seeks to devour me.

So here I am ~ still fighting the good fight long after I’d have expected to run out of steam sans the power of the Holy Spirit and the motivation of The True Truth to keep me going.

Currently, my “I can’t win” cognition is completely off the scale ~ but thanks to my kids, there’s an overriding defiance ~ that feeling of camaraderie with Mr. Osheroff’s Freedom Train passengers who, when the train runs into a big mountain, ”they get out and push that fucking train till it gets up to the top of the hill, then they get back in and continue with the ride” ~ it’s a ride for human freedom which has no final stop.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum.

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NLQ recommended reading:

‘Quivering Daughters‘ by Hillary McFarland

‘Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement‘ by Kathryn Joyce

Out of the Matrix ~ Part 1: The next day, a floral arrangement arrived …

Jul 152010

Warning: This story series contains descriptions of physical abuse.

by CherylAnnHannah

My journey into and out of the Quiver Full movement is so intertwined with the abuse that my children and I experienced in my marriage that it is hard for me to tell the tale of being QF without mentioning the abuse as well.

I had grown up in a Christian home, but at the age of 18 fell in love with the man who would become my husband. As is typical of a lot of teens allowed to spend too much time alone, we had sex and I ended up pregnant before my graduation from high school. My boyfriend completely freaked out and insisted on an abortion. I couldn’t go to my parents because my mother had told me when I was 16 that if I ever ended up pregnant, I knew where the door was. When I found myself pregnant, and with no job, no support from my boyfriend, and afraid to face my parents, I chose to abort my first child at 12 weeks gestation in July of 1979.

I felt somewhat numbed by the whole experience. My boyfriend showed a complete disregard towards any angst I might have felt as a result of the abortion and instead he chose to assert his authority over me and humiliated me sexually after the abortion in ways I don’t like to contemplate to this day. In fact, I felt so debauched by the whole experience that I thought no decent man would want to have anything to do with me after that. Accordingly, I went ahead and married him, against my parents’ counsel and wishes.

Three weeks into the marriage, my new husband and I got into a disagreement and he ended the argument by choking me. We had left our hometown the day after we married on a round-the-world tour by bicycle and we were in the New England states at the time. I was shocked because I had never experienced such actions in my home. The same thing happened a month and a half later when we got into another argument. I was a fast learner and I realized that if I didn’t argue with my husband, I wouldn’t get choked.

We got as far as Mexico and then came north up the west coast of the US til we were back in Canada. We stopped in Vancouver and decided to work and save money for a year or so in order to continue our bike trip in Australia. However, I got pregnant with my “atonement” baby in November of 1981 and our eldest child, a girl, was born. Thirteen months later another baby girl followed. At the time we were living on the west coast of Canada, far from my parents, family, and friends, and living in motel suites as my husband’s job had us travelling all over the place. When our eldest daughter turned 18 months old, my husband was settled in the Lower Mainland of BC and we bought a repossessed condo that was in need of a lot of clean up and repair.

It was during this time I hit rock bottom as far as my ability to cope with life. In order to go through with the abortion, I had to turn my back on my upbringing in a vain attempt to avoid the guilt it brought. But like a beach ball I was trying to hold under water, it kept popping up out of the water at unexpected times. I remember going to a local Christian bookstore and the owner saw my bedraggled and hopeless despair and invited me to a woman’s Bible study at a local Baptist church. I began to attend there and began to find some community and some solace.

My husband, despite a profession of faith in Christ, never really showed any fruit of salvation. My attempts to go out in the evening for my Bible study were impeded by him. He refused to do anything with our children that would put him out in any way so I would have to have the children fed, bathed and in bed in order to be allowed to go anywhere. Additionally, he got involved with Herbert W. Armstrong’s World Wide Church of God and became a real legalist with regard to Christmas, Easter, observing OT holy days and not eating unclean meats. I remember at one point he was following me around the house with a book quoting stuff to me out of it til I finally couldn’t take it any more and I grabbed the book and pitched it out of the nearest window. His involvement with the WWCG meant that I was attending a “synagogue of Satan” and so he had his excuse ready made as to why he could never attend church with me.

Soon after I had begun my attendance at the Baptist church, I got involved in a class on the Doctrines of Grace and was introduced to Calvinism. I had been raised in the Plymouth Brethren Assemblies and Calvinism completely turned the way I read the Bible on its head. Quite a few things that hadn’t made sense began to make a great deal of sense. I also got involved in something called Christian Reconstruction and I became a regular reader of a magazine called, “The Chalcedon Report”.

I’ve been a bookaholic since I can remember. I had been married six years, was 25 years old, and already I was on my sixth pregnancy, but third child when Mary Pride’s book, The Way Home: Beyond Feminism, Back to Reality, fell into my hands. With my newfound Calvinism, much of what she said about the sovereignty of God in governing our families and the womb made sense. For reasons I will never understand, my husband decided no birth control was okay and he also decided that homeschooling was the way to go with our children. In retrospect, the only time I really slowed down in terms of my activities outside of the home was when I was pregnant or nursing a baby. Homeschooling also kept me home and occupied for most of the day, so I guess it was part of the strategy to isolate and otherwise tie up a woman that abusive men use.

We were living a fairly comfortable life and I was beginning to develop something of a network through my local church when my husband decided it was time to move our family. I was five months pregnant with our fourth child at the time he announced this, and forgetting past lessons, I took exception to having to move away from all my friends and having to start all over in building a support network. He punched me out in front of my daughters who were three and four at the time. He threw me on the bed and sat on my pregnant belly and gave it to me. I had a severely split and swollen lip, a black eye, and bruises on my arms from that encounter. The next day a floral arrangement arrived on our doorstep as his way of saying sorry. My first desire was to pitch it as far and as hard as I could. But I didn’t, fearing that my lack of forgiveness would only bring more wrath and recriminations down on my head.

We finally ended up moving 500 miles north to the central interior of British Columbia a month after our fifth child was born. To my joy, my husband decided to attend church with us. I thought that this, perhaps, would be the beginnings of something good and that the promise of I Peter 3:1-3 was finally coming true. Instead it was a prelude to moving the entire family out of church altogether and into a home church with us as the only family attending it.

My husband had, in this time, gotten involved with a movement called Christian Identity. It was something of a match with the World Wide Church of God which taught a form of British Israelism. However, Christian Identity took it a step further and said that the white, Anglo-Saxon, Scandinavian, Germanic peoples were actually the 10 “lost” tribes of Israel. This meant that Jews were really not the people of God but rather imposters who were behind every evil conspiracy against the true people of God and who were the off-scourings of the earth.

I, on the other hand, had become drawn more and more into Christian Reconstruction, and from there into the Reformed Faith. I made contact with some local believers who were on the same journey but who were in different churches. Eventually, through the instrumentality of Still Waters Revival Books out of Edmonton we formed a local body who wanted to be part of a reformed covenanted church.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum!

Christian Culture Clash: Fundamentalist Patriarchy and My Father’s Church

Jul 092010

Part 1 ~ Our Church: Golgotha

by Ex-Adriel

Sundays were my favorite. Early in the morning, before the sun rose, Father knocked on my bedroom door. I dressed quickly in the pre-dawn dimness, and we drove to church together, just us two. A quick stop for the customary chocolate crème pie from a gas station, and then we would be at Golgotha*, pulling into the empty lot before anyone else arrived for church.

Father ran the bus ministry. In that morning stillness, I snuggled into an extra coat of his to protect my church dress, and ‘helped’ him check the fluids and tire pressure on the old school bus. When I was a young child, I rode with him off to the shelters to pick up all of the homeless who were willing to submit to a sermon for a chance at a hearty lunch and a shower. Later, after we met John and his wife Mary*, that would change and I would be left at the church alone in the morning stillness, usually ending up in the mysterious choir loft, suspended high above the sanctuary.

I loved Golgotha. I know now that it was unique – a charismatic Lutheran church. That never happens. But it did. As a child, I only knew that it was a wonderful church. We sang hymns and praise music. I was an altar-child and carried the taper lights and the cross up the center aisle at the beginning of the service, along with most of my age-mates. We wore long robes and sang in the choir, and took communion every Sunday. We kept to the yearly order of readings, but we also had regular altar calls and a praise dance troupe. I could have been happy there forever, and I think Father would have been as well, but Mother wanted more.

Mother always wanted more. She was very spiritual. I was her only child, and I was going to be spiritual also. So, as it turned out, I became two very different children in one body. With Mother, I was introspective and thoughtful, focused intently on the things of the spirit. We discussed allegory and C.S. Lewis, and the angels who walked among men in Tolkien’s mythos. We listened to scriptures on tape constantly. Everything had a spiritual meaning, from the lady bagging our groceries to the “God Bless” from the bank teller. We related our dreams to each other every morning, and interpreted them. I was especially adept at interpretation, keeping a close watch on what Mother approved of and what worried her.

With Father, I was a tomboy. He had wanted a son, so very badly. It was even reflected in my name. “Mike!” he’d call, “Come help me with this engine!” I wore jeans and tucked my ponytail into the back of my shirt so it wouldn’t tangle in the machinery I sweated over. I got dirty and oily, and loved every minute of it. I wasn’t a son, but my Father loved me just as much, as long as I acted the part. And I truly wasn’t acting. It was much more fun to be outside puttering over a tractor than inside teasing meanings from a single verse of scripture with Mother.

Sundays were my favorite. I dressed the part of a perfect girl, in lacy long dresses and black stockings, and then buried myself in Father’s coat. The collar rose higher than my ears, and I always kept my hair tucked underneath. The coat fell long, it extended almost to my ankles! and far over my hands – he would have to roll and roll and roll the sleeves to see my tiny hands poking out the gaping ends. Thus protected, we inspected that bus minutely. I treasured our time together, alone in the dim morning, and I knew that Father did also.

But one morning, John was there. He walked over to us, shaking Father’s hand and introducing himself. I had seen him on previous Sundays, with his beautiful wife and their children. He looked just like Jesus, and much like my own Father, with his full dark beard and his twinkling eyes. It was his eyes which reminded me of Jesus – they were rich deep brown. Father’s eyes were like my own, a pale blue like sea ice.

That morning was the beginning of the end. Father and John stood talking for a while, and I leaned against him, not really listening until I heard my name. “So,” John said, “does your son work in the office during the service? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Son?” Father laughed. “Mike’s a girl, John,” he grinned. “And just as good as any boy could be,” he swung me up and I smiled at the man. “Introduce yourself to the man, Mike!”

Sure of myself, and my place in the world, I did so – “Hello Mister John, my name is Mike.”

But he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t even take the hand I stuck confidently out to shake. He shook his head instead. “Is that really your name?” he asked in a chiding voice. “What is your real name?”

“Mike!” I said, indignant that I wasn’t believed. “Short for Michal, from the Bible. But I really am Mike,” I insisted. “I was named after Father’s best friend.”

At that, John let up. He finally shook my hand, and forced a laugh. In a joking manner, he turned back to Father, “With a daughter so spirited, I can see why she’s out here!”

I decided then and there, as much as he looked like Jesus, I did not like Mister John. I think the feeling was mutual.

*Names of places and people (including my own) have been changed to keep the peace. My mother and brother, along with other friends of the family, remain in patriarchal churches and homeschooling organizations, and I wish to tell my story without forcing anyone else to face condemnation and shame in their church homes. The particulars regarding my name are also true, I have simply substituted another name.

Next time – Church-Hopping with Mother: The Truth Revealed

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Time Heals All Wounds ~ Part 7: A Godly, God-Fearing Man

Jul 032010

I said I am taking the holiday weekend off ~ but I’m waiting for John to finish mowing his lawn before we can go to the park ~ so decided to quick put up a 4th of July treat for NLQ readers.

All beautiful the march of days, as seasons come and go; The Hand that shaped the rose hath wrought the crystal of the snow

by Shelly Cruz

I was feeling inadequate as a wife and mother lately, but had no clue why. Maybe it was because Cecilia called her husband Sir, and was always hanging on his every word. This had been making me nervous for a while now.

I remember asking her about it one day and she only shared, that Sarah called Abraham “Lord.” It was a matter of respect.

I took a moment, trying to imagine myself, calling my husband Lord, or even Sir. I could not help but chuckle each time I said it to myself. Is this something that a Godly wife was suppose to do? Should I be asking my husband if he would prefer I call him Lord, or Sir?

I have always been a laid back sort of wife and mother. My husband never complained about anything. We were both genuinely happy, and so were our four children. I tried hard not to butt in, as our husbands continued speaking. Cecilia’s husband continued to share the details, of this so-called trip, with my husband.

I kept hearing Cecilia’s husband repeating himself that we “REALLY” needed to go to one of these week-long marriage and parenting conventions. That it would change our life. It kept sounding amplified in my ears… I knew my husband though, and knew he was already feeling red flags with this sudden rash conversation. I could feel it, and see it in his eyes.

I silently thought once more, while thinking about the details. What if my husband accepted this invitation, to this weeklong marriage and parenting convention down in Texas? Where would our four children go during this trip?

Before I could give it another thought, Cecilia’s husband said, “And don’t worry about your children, our oldest will be more then happy to watch them all.” Oh, figures… I thought to myself. This guy has all the answers!

Cecilia’s husband continued to elaborate on the marriage course, and how encouraging the classes were and that they really touched up on leadership in the home. He then talked about the parenting courses, and how they mold children into quiet, obedient, God fearing children. This followed up on the teaching; do not speak, unless spoken too, and not sparing the Rod.

I really did not like any of this, and was waiting for Cecilia to speak up, on my behalf. She already knew how hard it was, each time I witnessed her husband take one of their little ones to our bathroom, or back yard for a spanking. It did not happen too often, but had happened on three occasions, that I could clearly recall. I did not want to be judgmental, but I had heard enough! I couldn’t control my silence any longer, so I blurted out, “Who teaches these courses?” Cecilia’s husband offered nothing more to my sudden outburst except, ”A really Godly, God-fearing Man”.

I then asked Cecilia’s husband how many children this really great Godly man had? Cecilia’s husband said that he had never been married, so therefore did not have any kids of his own. I then chuckled, as I replied, “So this guy who has never been married, nor has any children of his own, teaches other married couples, how to have perfect marriages and perfect children”?

I think Cecilia’s husband sensed my sarcasm, and was not entirely taken with it. He then looked me directly in the eyes, and said, “He is able to teach through the Lord’s revelations, like Paul of the New Testament.”

My husband remained quiet during this time, and I began thinking that maybe he was feeling intimidated too, by all this. Cecilia’s husband had a very strong personality. He then continued his conversation with my husband, as Cecilia remained quiet and submissive, hanging on his every word. It kind of felt like she was not there at all.

I am not sure why, but the topic changed to church related issues next. Cecilia’s husband was now asking my husband about his church background. I thought we had already been through all that before, but maybe not. My husband mentioned that he grew up in a very legalistic church. Cecilia’s husband asked, “How so?” I sensed my husband’s discomfort on being questioned about this. So, I butted in once more, with the details that my husband had shared with me in the past. I mentioned that the church in which my husband grew up would not allow any ladies in the door who had pants on, or wore jewelry, make up, etc. And that the men and boys had to all have suits on within the church doors. No television or radios were allowed in the homes either.

Cecilia’s husband looked at me, and said, “So, it was a biblical church then”? My husband then broke into the conversation, and said that the church made him fall very far away from the Lord in his teen years, and then my husband changed the topic. I was pleased with my husband’s answer!

Cecilia’s husband then brought the conversation back to the trip, this time mentioning the name of this Godly man who never married, or had any children. I made sure to take note, in fact I excused myself to the bathroom just so I could write the name down, so I wouldn’t forget. When I returned to the table, all was quiet, and they all got up to check out and go back to our house.

We arrived back home, and said our final good-byes. Cecilia hugged me, and promised to visit us real soon. She even mentioned for me to keep in touch, by phone, telling her how great it was down South. If I did, she said, then maybe they’d move down South in a couple years. I remember thinking how that was an odd thing to say. Perhaps she was just making small talk, or joking around though.

The next morning arrived and my family took off for a whole new life of unexpected possibilities. We moved down to the Bible Belt.

A few weeks passed by, and I picked up the phone to call Cecilia, but there was no answer. I left a message for her to call me back, but never received any call back. I decided to try again after a few more weeks passed. No answer that time either, so I left another message for her to call me back.

I never got any callbacks from her. This made me feel very sad and very much alone again. I tried to remain optimistic, and thought that perhaps, Cecilia was not getting my messages. Or was she? Maybe one of her children erased them, by accident of course.
I mentioned this to my husband, me trying to phone her, and having to leave messages, and getting no calls back from her. My husband told me, that I would not be hearing back from her, probably ever again. These words shook and disturbed me. I asked him to explain such a statement. My husband told me that it was just a feeling he had. One that he had been having ever since the night we left the North.

A couple months had passed by now, and I tried phoning her once more, this time Cecilia’s voice was on the other end. I was so excited, Finally! I asked her how they have been, then I mentioned about the two previous phone calls.

Cecilia said that she had just been busy, and she was actually too busy at the moment to talk with me. I was a bit disappointed, but said all right, offering her our new phone number. Cecilia told me that she had it on the caller ID, and that she would call me back, later that evening. I said OK, and hung up.

Evening came but the phone never rang. I really wanted to reconnect with her, so I called her back. This time, one of her polite children answered the phone. I was always amazed at how they would answer the phone, and often tried to teach my own children to answer phone calls, in like manner.

Cecilia’s children always answered the phone like this:

“Hello, this is Jennie speaking; whom may you wish to correspond with”? I had never met a group of kids that had better manners than this. However, when I would call, I would try to make small chat with whichever child answered the phone, but would never get anywhere.

These were not Cecilia’s younger children either. They were her teens. Often times, I would say, “Hey Jennie, how are you doing? This is Shelly. Is your mom there?” I would get nothing more then a “HOLD PLEASE” never a personal answer, or a, “Hi Shelly!” I always thought that was odd. Why were all the children so robotic? Where were each of their personalities?

Cecilia did end up coming to the phone that evening. I also heard Cecilia’s husband in the background asking, who it was. I did not hear what Cecilia answered though. Cecilia came to the phone, and asked me how I had been. Well, I was excited, and began to tell Cecilia how great it was down South, sharing all the details. Cecilia sounded surprised, which added more confusion to my plate.

I mentioned that my husband had just got a rifle the other day, and wanted to speak to Cecilia’s husband about it, since he collected rifles. Cecilia paused, and said that her husband was not home. I thought that was odd, given that I heard his voice when I first called her. I kept that to myself though, and told Cecilia to have her husband call mine, when he had some free time. She then told me rather firmly, her husband was a very busy man, and comes home tired, and did not have time to chitchat on the telephone. I felt like she smacked me across the face with that comment, and tone of voice. Why was she so abrupt with me? Did I do, or say something wrong?

I remained quiet, and she told me that they would drive down to visit us real soon.
Before hanging up with me, she brought up the convention in Texas. She asked me if we had given any more thought to whether or not we wanted to attend the trip with them. I told her that it was up to my husband. Her husband would have to contact my husband about it. I certainly did not want to get into this over the phone with her. I began wondering if her coldness had anything to do with us not being tickled pink to attend this convention with them. I guess only time would tell.

In ending our conversation, she mentioned that all we would need to attend the convention, is about four hundred dollars. I thought she was joking, and laughed. She then told me that she needed to go, and we would chat soon.

When I got off the phone, my husband asked me why Cecilia’s husband did not come to the phone to talk with him. I explained to my husband how our conversation went, and began to cry, wondering what I had done to obviously offend Cecilia in some way. My husband comforted me, and asked me to not call Cecilia anymore, just wait, and let her call me from now on.

Months passed by, and Christmas arrived. One day while checking my mail, I pulled out a small envelope post marked with Cecilia’s address on it. I could not believe it! It didn’t say much, but it did have a picture enclosed of their new baby. I had not even known that Cecilia was pregnant again. This prompted me to call her later that evening. I wanted to congratulate them, on yet, another blessing.

No one picked up the phone, as usual, so I just left another message. Then I hung up and went into my bedroom to cry! Afterward, I dried up my tears and prayed. I asked the Lord why I was being treated this way?

My oldest daughters did not understand either, and were asking me questions. Evidently, Cecilia’s daughters, the ones that were my daughters’ ages, said they were going to keep in touch with them, and phone them. My daughters never heard from them since we left, and they were feeling hurt too!

I decided to take action. I dug through a bunch of old papers in my bedroom closet, trying to find the name of the guy who was giving those yearly conventions down in Texas. I thought maybe, if I Googled the man’s name, something would come up, and it might help me understand Cecilia and her family a little better.

After just a few minutes of digging, I found it! Rather wrinkly, I uncrumpled the small piece of paper that I had scribbled on that last night we were all together. I looked down at my handwriting, and read the name to myself, “Bill Gothard” I knew it was Bill something, but had forgotten the last name. I was so scatter brained still.

I took the piece of paper over to my computer and decided that it was time to do some Googling…

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Time Heals All Wounds ~ Part 6: Cecelia’s Secret

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Jun 172010

All beautiful the march of days, as seasons come and go; The Hand that shaped the rose hath wrought the crystal of the snow

by Shelly Cruz

The secret was “ATI”, which stands for, “Advanced Training Institute.” This was a word of mouth ultra-conservative home school program Cecilia told me about. It taught “Character First.” It made children obedient, God fearing individuals, Cecilia explained to me. Cecilia shared examples of how much more obedient children were who were taught with this style of curriculum. How these children differed from other children.

I was intrigued, and wanted to find out more about it. This was what I have been waiting to hear. If Cecilia’s children were walking, talking, examples, of how ATI worked, then I needed to get my hands on this “Character First” curriculum at once. I had just started homeschooling my children, with the encouragement that I got from Cecilia. No one from my church was encouraging me. In fact, they were all discouraging me. They saw me as a traitor, having taken my children out of the church’s private school.

I did find it odd that Cecilia never mentioned ATI to me before though. “Why now?” I thought to myself. Was she witnessing me doing something wrong with my children? I mean, I know she did not approve of my daughters’ Bratz doll posters that were hanging in their bedroom. I remember the first time their family came over to visit us, one of Cecilia’s daughters came out of my daughters’ bedroom to mention to their mother that my girls had one of “those” kind of posters on their wall. I remember Cecilia smiling at her daughter, ever so politely, telling her, that it was fine.

Thinking about it now, I wonder if my daughters’ bedroom was used as an example of how an ungodly bedroom might look like.

Time Heals All Wounds ~ Part 5: A Leap of Faith

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Jun 042010

All beautiful the march of days, as seasons come and go; The Hand that shaped the rose hath wrought the crystal of the snow

by Shelly Cruz

Our family was planning an out of state move soon. My husband had been praying about our life up North. For him, everything seemed mundane, so he started praying that if the Lord had more for us, he would have to shake things up a bit. For me, I felt that everything had already been shaken up enough.

As always, the Lord answered my husband’s prayer almost instantly. The job that he thought he was going to have until retirement became very stressful for him. When folks at work found out that he was a believer, they started playing little tricks on him. One day my husband went to work and there were tiny tacks all over his desk chair. Another time, someone complained about my husband’s Christian screen-saver on his monitor, yet another time, he got written up for listening to Christian music in his office. It was time to move on, my husband told me.

We stepped out in a leap of faith, and placed our house on the market. It was sold within three days and we had 30 days to be out.

I spent weeks trying to convince Cecilia and her family to move down South with us, but Cecilia assured me that they would visit frequently. They were not in a position to move right now.

Having turned my womb over to the Lord, I had just given birth once again. I had become pregnant when my son was only 12 weeks old. I had another daughter this time, and was very emotional and confused. I was tired and cranky all the time it seemed. I had no idea who I was anymore. I felt as if I was just going through the motions of my life.

We told our church of the past four years that we were planning a move soon. The congregation was very negative towards this news. Everyone had something negative to say to me, and there was no one offering to help my family with any of the details either. No one except Cecilia’s family, that is. They were there for us, right up until the end.

10 Lies I Believed About “Worldly Parents”

5 ~ Select Entries 21 Responses »

May 292010

by Vyckie

1) Worldly parents only have one kid ~ two at the most (and sometimes none at all ~ gasp!) because they are selfish and lazy and cannot be bothered with the responsibilities of parenthood.

2) Worldly parents send their kids to public school because they have been duped into turning their kids over to be brainwashed by secular humanism in Satan’s government-run indoctrination centers.

3) Worldly women only care about chasing after Mammon and earthly glory so they waste their lives making greedy men (to whom they are not even married) rich by their labor ~ which technically makes them whores.

4) Worldly parents indulge their kids and refuse to train them to be “instantly, joyously obedient” and to honor their fathers because they are guilt-ridden for not caring enough about their kids to spend a quantity of quality time with them.

5) Worldly mothers are eager to hand their kids over to minimum wage-earning daycare workers who don’t give a rat’s ass about their precious children so they can spend their time shopping, getting their nails done and working out to keep their bodies hot for their worldly husbands who only love them superficially.

6) Worldly mothers are clueless about nutrition and growing healthy bodies ~ that is why they only feed their kids pre-packaged junk food. They are more concerned about their kids being popular and “well-rounded” (read: worldly) than they are about their health ~ which is why worldly moms pick up dinner at the McDonald’s drive-thru on their way to soccer practice or dance class almost every night of the week.

7) Worldly parents park their kids in front of the electronic babysitter for 5 or 6 hours every day so they can sit on their butts in front of the computer watching pornography because they don’t care if their kids’ minds atrophy and they are glad to have their little brats’ heads filled with ideas for cheap plastic Disney toys which they will pitch a fit in Wal-Mart and demand their parents buy as bribes or guilt-offerings.

8) Worldly parents have learned nothing from the shame and degradation of their own promiscuous dating relationships which is why they believe “comprehensive sex education” will protect their kids from STDs and broken hearts more than insisting on abstinence.

9) Worldly fathers have no idea what a dangerous place our society can be for women. They allow their wives and daughters to wear pants or mini-skirts or show cleavage, expose bare shoulders, etc ~ totally shirking their responsibility as men to protect their women from getting raped. Worldly men whose wives dress immodestly are most likely porn addicts.

10) Worldly parents consider their parenting job a success if their kids make it to adulthood without getting raped, killed, drug or alcohol addicted, or committing suicide. Any good thing beyond that is just icing on the cake.

BONUS: Christian parents who use birth control, do not homeschool, homebirth and run a cottage industry, own a television, send their kids to Sunday School rather than keeping the family together for worship, allow their kids to have sleepovers or date, don’t grow their own vegis and grind their own wheat for bread, or who are okay with the wife wearing pants and makeup or working outside the home ~ are actually Worldly Parents ~ they probably aren’t even really saved and are only using church as a social club with no membership fees.

Let The Men Speak: “Quiverfull nearly destroyed our marriage”

Let The Men Speak! 1 Response »

May 282010

“Quiverfull creates two kinds of men: those who control and those who become controlled …”

by Brad

I was thinking about the things that almost destroyed me and Dawn’s relationship. This wasn’t the only issue but it was a big one. I’ll just let my mind put the words together and not try to make it pretty or anything.

When Dawn was first convinced to go to a Quiverfull / homeschool mentality, I was not. I had issues with the movement and even that group of friends. They talked about being submitted to their husbands but I never saw it. If their husbands didn’t follow the writings of the prophets of the movement, then their husbands were looked down on. We would be told about other men who were involved in their families as good leaders, who had their own businesses, who did this or did that, built this and could fix that and lived on a farm etc., etc. But I saw and spoke to their husbands. With rare exceptions, they were either control freaks or they had been beaten into submission themselves trying to live up to the principle of the “man” that their wives read about in books from the movement. Watching some of them read about other men in the movement reminded me of watching some women read romance novels. That sigh, that side-glance at their not-quite-cutting-it husbands seemed very similar.

And the men that weren’t control freaks were trapped. Think about it. Here’s a paraphrase of a conversation that happened between Dawn and me.

Dawn: I believe that God determines when someone is going to get pregnant so doing anything to prevent it is sinful.

Brad: So using condoms would be bad?

Dawn: Yes. And any other abortifacient method.

Brad: So should we just try to figure out when you might get pregnant and avoid those times?

Dawn: No that’s still trying to control God. And I would cry if we used a condom or did anything like that. I couldn’t violate my principles.

OK. That conversation seems harmless enough. But here’s the problem. My thoughts on the matter didn’t matter. What could I do? Having sex with a condom meant I was a heathen and forcing her to go against her principles. A good man who is not Quiverfull cannot do anything once his wife becomes Quiverfull.

NLQ FAQ: The Bible & Birth Control

NLQ FAQs 1 Response »

May 242010

Note: Before reading this, please read the “Quiverfull and the Bible” FAQ. Like the “nobleminded Bereans” (Acts 17:11), we are entitled to study for ourselves, so that we may read the Biblical text in an informed manner. That FAQ provides the background for the method of informed Bible reading used here.

faqs20questions2001

by Kristen Rosser ~ aka: KR Wordgazer

Q: Doesn’t the Bible say we are to receive as many children as God blesses us with, and that birth control is against His plan?

Let’s look at the passage on children being a blessing, Psalm 127:3.

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them; they shall not be ashamed, but shall speak with the enemies in the gate.

Children are indeed a blessing from God! But does the Bible teach that if we just let nature take its course, the amount of children we will have will be God’s plan for us?

Look at the curse that comes upon Eve after the Fall, in Genesis 3:16: “Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children. . .”

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