In 2014, my husband lost his father and I lost my grandfather. Each man was the rock that we each depended on, the one person we each knew would be there for us, no matter what. He was adrift at sea, lost, and did not grieve as he was too busy settling his father’s estate and taking care of his father’s business as well as his baby sister, who was living with and taking care of their father.
One night, my husband came home, excited. He had been talking about making movies (an old hobby of his that I encouraged), and met a group of street preachers that he wanted to make a series about. During the conversations with this group, he decided to become saved. I would soon find out that the group was an extremist cult, and it drove a wedge between us. He abandoned me emotionally and mentally, and became a man that no one recognized.
He has since left the group, but I still get nervous when I see the shelf of Bibles and other books. I get nervous when I see the Bible app on his iPad. And it has turned me completely off of organized religion. I have not forgotten this period, and am strong enough to throw him out should he go that route again. I will not tolerate it.
That background is because I recently noticed that he responded to someone who was questioning this cult on Facebook. Apparently this group has gone after this woman and caused a lot of problems in her life. Hubby was not surprised that they went after her as rabidly as they did, even talking about how this woman never met anyone from this group until she took them to court to stop their harassment and get a restraining order.
It was hard for me not to comment about it on Facebook. And it would not have been pretty. I kept my mouth shut because it was not fair to the woman for her post to be full of venom when it didn’t concern her. I also did not want to lose my temper, because I wanted so bad to let my husband have it with both barrels about how I felt then and how I understood her frustration and alienation when trying to battle the cult.
I’m dealing with it better than I have in the past. I don’t hurt as much, and I don’t feel like it is being rubbed in my face. But it still bothers me, and I can’t say why. I may or may not ever figure it out. But I feel vindicated because the group IS a cult and I am not the only one who sees their actions for what they are: desperate and evil.