No Charity in the Remnant ~ Part 8: Bull in China Shop

by Whisper Rain

Whisper was taken under the wing of some of the godly people at her new church. They taught her how to sew, and how to cook the way they did… which was very different from what she was used to. She felt like there was so much she needed to learn and re-learn to be a truly godly woman, but she was willing to do it! Where would she be if she hadn’t met these people? Not living the way God expected her to, that was for sure! She was so thankful God had led her to a group of people who really understood what he wanted- people who were serious about God, and who would do anything he told them to. Looking around at the average, “professing christians” living such “lukewarm” lives, it was very clear how few people were willing to go all out for God.

All her life, Whisper had made friends easily and naturally. Until now. As her social life started to revolve more and more around people from church, Whisper felt her status as an outsider keenly. Many of the young people in the youth group had been born and raised in “The Community” or a similar one, and they didn’t seem to notice that they formed a very exclusive core group… or that the only way to be a part of it was to be born (or marry) into one of their solidly established, reputable families. Little things that were natural to them (like having been brought up speaking Dutch or German- or being proud descendants from well known Amish or Mennonite communities) quickly showed who was “in” and who was “out.” Either you naturally fit, or you didn’t. Whisper didn’t.

As far as the adults were concerned, Whisper’s drastic change (or “conversion experience,” as it came to be known), kind of gave her a pass. She acted on almost all of the teaching she received… Whisper was the ideal convert. An almost-perfect example of someone becoming a “new creation.”

Having not been brought up in The Community, Whisper began to find out that she was a bit of a bull in a china shop there. There were certain unspoken rules that were understood by everyone who had been there long… and Whisper started learning them slowly and painfully. Sometimes, for whatever reason, a “concerned person” would take it upon themselves to inform Whisper (or her mother) what people were saying about her latest faux pas. The original offended party was usually well hidden.

Whisper came to realize that no matter how hard she tried to fit and blend in… she still didn’t. These “godly people” found something to be scandalized about even in her best efforts…

She wore a necklace in public! Has no one ever taught that girl that outward adornment is sinful?? Did she have the second button of her blouse unbuttoned AGAIN too?

She refuses to wear her hair up under a white head covering, even though she WAS in church when it was mentioned that white symbolized purity, and we are the PURE bride of christ, are we not? And whoever heard of a woman getting headaches from wearing her hair up- poor girl, if only her mother knew how to guide her properly…

She had a conversation with THAT boy? When? Where? For how long? *gasp* Alone? Outside the church building? And she was laughing? Well it’s obvious what kind of girl she is…

The constant behind-her-back commentary left Whisper more confused than hurt. She didn’t understand why people would act like that… and for once she couldn’t think of any way to gloss over the ugliness of their actions. The only part of it that truly made her angry was the fact that, in all of the gossip going around about her, much of it implied some sort of wrongdoing or neglect on her parents’ part. Whisper was indignant at the idea… ever since her conversion, NONE of what she did was because of pressure from her parents. In her zeal, Whisper had become the driving force, pulling her family along in this direction. Her parents came along without complaint, but the reins of her life were once again very firmly in her own hands.

Whisper had no idea that she was about to lose them again… and this time they would be much harder to get back.

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