doojable

I'm so old... ... that I forget to act my age.

There are always the various abuses to not doing the bare minimum. I don't even remember the supposed scriptural basis for that, but I seem to recall that it wasn't enough to ten minutes early - you had to be ten minutes earlier still.

"She Talks to Angels"

Gavin DeGraw - "I Don't Want to Be" Black Crowes - "Hard to Handle"

Oh the disagreements are the best part! Besides, how else do we get to show off how clever we can be? If we all agreed on everything we'd be clones... :confused: :confused: Rubber stamps should be confined for use in scrap books, IMHO.

Of course not.

I think I have The Transylvania Cookbook somewhere around here...

Potato, I'm sorry that you had to go through all that. I'd have to say that friends and closeness and trust kept me in TWI - but for different reasons. I didn't want to disappoint them, or lose them, or hurt them by leaving. I didn't want to abandon some of them. Now is the time to have friends and relationships that aren't toxic.

Awwwwww... don't get all mushy on me guys... That is more of the beauty of civil public discourse. We can work together and share it all, thus severing the barking head and working together. It may be it to work out some aspect of life (past or present,) or to play a game, share music, or debate the end of the world because of the current administration - whoever it may belong to. ;) Nah... Oh and Bluze - I just added to what you and Groucho started... so high fives all around are in order, I'd say. Okay... biscuits and gravy for everyone.

Rick - I was about to start this thread when I read your post in Groucho's thread. I thought it only fitting to begin this thread with that post of your's. I was thinking about how my life has been since leaving TWI 18 years ago. I got married, raised (almost) two kids, went to work, slept, ate, played, cried, and went about my daily business. There weren't a lot of folks that could relate to life in the Cornfield Gulag, much less talk about any common experiences. Sure, I could talk about a good time with a bunch of some of the greatest folks I ever knew while playing touch football in Central Park after a snowstorm; but who could ever understand why that incident tied me to a cult for years to come? For most folks "a branch meeting" happens in Central Park because of all the trees. Maybe that's why the Cafe has found a special place in many of our lives. I suspect that for those of us that left many years ago, the real issues are settled. It's not so much that we're "whining" as we have met others who when some story of a face-melting is told can say, "Wow! Me too! I was in the South. You were on another continent?" :o I dare say that it's the commonality that binds us. For many of us there is finally someone who can relate. Furthermore, for those of us that found ourselves not invited to the Believing Images of Victory party, we finally see that it wasn't just us. It isn't that we were so awful that God decided to ignore our prayers and efforts to make the grade spiritually. I had some great times with some great people. I wasn't abused. BUT - I had those nagging little "WTF moments" that I counted to "people just being people." It's only when I heard others say the same things that I saw a pattern. I saw that I wasn't alone and I wasn't crazy. (Okay - I am crazy - but that's a different story ;)) Have I spent 18 years hating TWI? No. Have I spent 18 years wringing my hands and wondering why I stayed so long? No. (I was too busy living a life filled with kids and their lives.) When I read the "nice stories" I don't hate them, but I do bristle. Why? I had some idyllic moments. I had those times when I felt that I finally had seen what true Christianity should look and feel like. Yet that nagging voice inside keeps asking: "WHY do these nice stories make my stomach do flip-flops?" I finally realized that these good times were the motivation for me to look past the BS I encountered in days to come. They were the moments I chased and tried to duplicate for years to come. They were the anesthetic that numbed me. These moments screamed "LOVE!" so loudly that they drowned out the voice in my head that told me to walk, run, ask more questions. These were the moments that kept me "in" longer. Perhaps God lived in those moments - and then those same moments kept me looking past God in other moments. Perhaps - just perhaps - that is why the hair stands up on the back of my neck when I read about someone's good times. It's not that I deny that good times happened. I hate that I let those good times lull me to sleep. Now - I am only speaking for myself here. I was in a cult. I left that cult. So... what's the value of civil public discourse? Commonality. Civility. The good, the bad and the not so pretty. Bluze has the right idea, IMHO. The patterns will surface no matter what stories are told. The good times don't erase the abuse. I even thank God for those good times - even with the anesthetizing effect - because, well... who doesn't need good times in their lives? In fact, for me anyway, the good times make those awful times of feeling alone and forgotten that much more of an affront to what I went looking for to begin with. I went to Kansas. I got some ruby slippers. Now all I see is piles of red glitter all over the ground - memories and disappointment. Both make up the life I lived. There is value in sharing all of it...

Oh yea.... "1, 2, 3, Red Light (light)! You stop me!..." Can't say I really liked that song much myself. Maybe I blocked it out.

I can hear the dang song in my head... just can't hear that darned Title line...:(

My church has a fund set aside to help people in need. The also run a small "Food bank" of sorts. WD- I know that there were isolated incidents of giving - but would you agree that the story about the family living in the hotel was in the early days of the ministry? I didn't see much of it. I heard of HQ helping people - but it seemed to be the exception over the rule, and I saw and heard of less and less as time went on.

Potato- I think he said something different at one time- but I don't have the documentation...I know it was in a class somewhere. (And No- I dont' think there will be many stories of ABS being used to help the "local saints.")

Okay... I've been thinking (dun dun dunnnnnnn!) :o I'm sure somewhere someone has an old syllabus from some class that says something about how the fellowships were supposed to be (Ahem) self-supporting, self-propagating (don't make any wisecracks) and self-yadda yadda. BUT- can anyone give any evidence of that happening? Did anyone ever get any help from the ABS? That would be something that might show a difference between what TWI preached and what it practiced. Rent? Food? Clothes and other needs? I don't mean a "special love offering." I mean the BC said, "Hey, there's a need here in my area and the funds should support these people first." Discuss among yourselves... Compare and contrast.

It's correct - who wants to take the next one?

"When I get older"

Bohemian Rhapsody - by Queen...

Happenin' day, Dude!

I'm here - but only kinda sorta.... I asked Paw to delete my account as a precaution - he graciously waited. I've found that life calls louder to me now that I've been gone a while. :) I've found that cooking is much more fun than posting recipes - so I'll just visit less and dance more often. :biglaugh:

:biglaugh: Go for it Bulwinkl!

Coming down the halls... when they're filled...Anna Nalik - "Just Breathe"

Nice!Here's what the girls are listening to now:Daniel Powter - "Bad Day"

HEY! At least Groucho can dance!

Two photos...