Fearless Deconstruction: Reclaiming Your Spiritual Foundation
A look at how we can debunk the myths taught to us by patriarchal leaders, and how to heal.
The Necessity of Deconstruction
I often think about deconstruction. Many people fear it, but to reconstruct anything, we must first deconstruct what is already there. Many times, as I approached remodeling something, I have tried to fix what was already there, but each time I have tried, it has never turned out well. We must remove the old to make room for the new, so that the latest is done right.
As I reflect on my spiritual journey, I see myself reconstructing after deconstruction at least twice in my life. The first time was in my twenties. Vividly, I remember the last weeks I spent with my dad, when he told me that I really needed to know my Bible. That was a great piece of advice, which I took to heart. I knew that I didn’t want my faith to look like his because I had watched him be one way in public and completely different in private.
My childhood was marked by severe trauma and abuse. By 20, I was deeply wounded. My father, a pastor until I was 12 years old, was my abuser. Church was a constant presence, blending with spiritual abuse. He would verbally abuse me while invoking God, telling me I was failing miserably.
Trauma’s Pathway
Trauma can create things in us that we don’t recognize as unhealthy. For me, the trauma of my childhood led to feeling comfortable with rigid rules. He had been strict and highly controlling of me while giving himself license to harm me and anyone else so that he could get whatever he wanted.
Interpersonal trauma, which means that someone else has been verbally, physically, spiritually, or sexually abusive, leads the victim down a path of emotional dysregulation, which means that there is difficulty in being aware of emotional upheaval, difficulty understanding what is happening, and the victim’s emotions can be overwhelming. Understanding this helps us to understand how individuals who have been in chronically abusive situations will often return to a similar situation.
The new situation will have elements of comfort because it is what the victim was used to. When abuse is your 'normal,' it can provide a false sense of comfort.
This is why in my 30s, my husband and I returned to a legalistic church; despite its issues, its rigidity felt familiar. My husband’s concerns were present, but I did not share those concerns. What I saw was a place where there were rules, and we followed them.
If everyone had followed them, it might have been a safe place. However, many men and leaders neglected to follow them and behaved like my Dad, doing whatever brought them happiness. This is called abuse! This should have been resolutely weeded out by our pastor and leaders, but it was not. This is why it was legalistic because the leadership and men (the patriarchy) forced compliance for everyone but themselves.
When abuse was disclosed we were told, “Don’t tell me about abuse, turn it in to the proper authorities.” While all abuse of a minor or elder should be reported, the pastor should have been WILLING to protect all of the people in his congregation, not just the men.
Silence is agreement with abuse.
Necessary Deconstruction
Both in my early 20s, leaving my Dad’s world, and in my 40s, leaving the legalistic church required tearing down old spiritual elements and ideas about God, making space for new, healthier ones—just like remodeling a house.
Paul speaks of 'putting off' and 'putting on' in the epistles. If you don't 'put on' something new, something else will fill the space. The hope is that what you 'put on' is better and of higher quality. Reflecting on my years in my 'legalistic church' or 'bubble world,' I acknowledge both good and harmful elements. While I learned the Bible extensively, I also absorbed skewed interpretations. Nevertheless, those years grounded me deeply in scripture.
Separating God from Harm
I'm always curious why some leave legalism or spiritually abusive environments, with some maintaining their faith and others walking away entirely. My dissertation research focuses on spiritual abuse. One study I read examined older women who healed from such environments, identifying the dispositions that helped them remain connected to God. The key finding was their ability to separate God from the people and spiritual leaders who had harmed them.
My Dad was not God. My old Pastor is not God. The men who hurt me are not God. Sometimes, I question if these people really knew/know God. However, it is too easy to lump everyone in a community together, but that would be unfair.
Don’t Count Me Like My Dad
After spending decades away from the area where I grew up, I recently started attending a church where I encountered people from my teenage years. A few weeks ago, I was speaking with a lady who knew my family. After a few minutes of chatting, she said, “Now, who are you, again?”
I replied with my maiden name and my parents’ names. Her instant response, “Ooooh.”
I blurted out, “Oh yeah, that's me. I'm his daughter.”
This exchange brought a wave of shame and hurt because I've spent my adult life striving to be nothing like him. My desire for a 'clean' life, even leading me to a legalistic church, was a direct response to his influence. While humiliating in the moment, I remind myself: I am not him. I am Melodi Kitzmiller. I am me.
Reflecting on this experience, and on others who have healed from spiritual abuse, I realize God does not want to be associated with those who brought us shame and harm.
He is not like them.
He is unique.
He has tirelessly demonstrated His steadfast love and kindness, gently loving us.
He desires that we see Him as distinct from our abusers. This distinction is crucial as we rebuild our faith. It's vital to return to Jesus, recognizing His ultimate sacrifice on the cross for our eternal life, and His unwavering, faithful, and dear love. These are the truths He wants us to remember about Him.
Just as I don’t want to be remembered with my Dad, Jesus does not want to be remembered with your abusers.
Building Back Better
I want you to know that it is okay to deconstruct the lies you’ve been taught. It will take some time to identify them all, but that’s okay. As you find them, tear down the old and put back the truth.
In a small group that I have met with over the past few years, after a prayer for me, one woman said, “I see a wall that you're working on; I'm not sure if you're tearing it down or building it up, but I see you working on the wall.” This lady is not familiar with my podcast or this Substack writing, so I know this was from the Lord, because the work I do is meant to repair the wall.
I don’t want to tear the whole thing down, but I certainly want to address the myths that we were told in legalism, tear out the old, and add truth, so your wall is solidly built on who God truly is.
Ask Hard Questions
I also want you to know that you may have some hard questions for God. You may even be angry with Him. First, He can answer your questions. Ask Him and watch for His answers. He may do it in a variety of ways:
A still, small voice that is not audible at all, but you sense that what is being said carries weight. It could even feel overwhelming.
Someone speaking to you, and it might not even be about the question that you have asked, but you suddenly realize that this is your answer.
You might be talking with someone about the problem, and the answer comes out of your mouth. Proverbs 16:1 says, “The answer of the tongue is from the LORD.”
It may be in a scripture that speaks louder than others in your time with Him, or during a sermon or other faith talk you are listening to. Maybe even in something you are reading.
As far as being angry with God. People often act like this is close to an unpardonable sin, but could we think through it for a moment?
Scripture says that, “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). This tells me that God knows what is going on in our hearts. It seems to me that when we admit we are angry with God, we are simply acknowledging what He already knows to be true. Why not open up a conversation about it instead of suppressing it?
If you have been in harm’s way, then you likely do have some serious questions about why it happened, where God was, and why He didn’t stop it. I have had those questions too. God loves you dearly, and He is full of grace and mercy. Go to Him and ask your questions. It is okay.
The leader who wants to cover abuse may not be willing to listen to you and have compassion, but God always does. (Isaiah 38: 4-5, Psalm 139: 1-4…).
Journaling Prompts
Write about the situation that started opening your eyes to the truth that you were not safe in your church.
I want you to write it in 3rd person. In other words, write like you would if you were a fly on the wall watching the situation. No pronouns like: I, me, my, we, they. Use the persons name to tell the story. Yes, it will sound clunky, but our point in writing is not to write for someone else to read, but for us to heal.
When we write in 3rd person, we are seperating ourselves from what was happening.
Keep noticing your body. Start at the top of your head and scan your body to your toes, noticing where there is tightness, heaviness, nausea, jittery-ness, or anything else. If you’re not feeling anything, go for a walk before returning to the writing.
Don’t let yourself become overwhelmed with what you are doing. Yes, it will be upsetting, but it should not be overwhelming.
Write about what the leadership should have done to help you.
You may feel anger as you write this, but remember to take it to Jesus. He is also angry when His little ones are not protected, and you are His “little one”.
Write what your response was and what you wish it could have been.
Often, when we are in a controlling environment, our voice is silenced. Get your voice back by at least writing what you wanted to say.
Keep yourself safe. If you need help with this, reach out to me or use the Domestic Violence Hotline at 800-799-7233.
Shred or burn your writing if it would put you in an unsafe situation. Safety is your number one priority. If no one else is protecting you, then you have to protect yourself.
Just because you tell a pastor does not mean that it will be over and you will be safe. Sadly, patriarchal churches often put the victim in more danger. So choose someone who will really help you, like a doctor, attorney, social worker, or licensed therapist.
Work on your wall until it is all that you want it to be. God gave you desires, passions, and loves of various things. Make sure you find delight in who He made you to be.
Until next time. ~Much love to you.