(For context, read That Time a Fellow Church Member Wanted to Murder Me.)
My dad’s been cleaning out his garage and we’ve been finding all sorts of things because my parents never get rid of anything. I’ve been having some fun going through old pictures I haven’t seen since I was a teenager. While sorting through pictures two nights ago, I came across some folded up sheets of paper tucked into the box of pictures. I grabbed the stack and unfolded them, figuring it was another poem my sister or I had written for Mother’s Day (there were a lot of Mother’s Day poems in those boxes.)
Instead of a child’s scribbled poem, I was looking at a stack of photocopied Bible pages. I knew what they were right away. I was holding copies of a few of the death threats I’d received 15 years ago.
The first time I’d seen these pages, I was 18. It was just after He Who Must Not Be Named set a fire in my bedroom (I wasn’t home that night.)
The next time I saw these pages was when my father stood in front of our church and projected them on the overhead so the congregation could understand why we were leaving. (It was super fun being a teenager and having my entire church read passages that referred to my breasts and nakedness, let me tell ya.)
People overuse the word “terrified”, but I’m not exaggerating when I say I was terrified the first time I saw these. I fully expected a confrontation was coming and that I probably wouldn’t survive it. It wasn’t a matter of if he got to me, but when and I knew it.
What struck me while re-reading them was how impotent these threats are now. (Yeah. Impotent. I went there.) Because without a group of bystanders standing behind him, he’s just one crazy guy and I’m not afraid of just one crazy guy.
So, what to do with these pages?
I’m going to do what I always do. I’m going to make wildly inappropriate comments about them because I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks about that.
“You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God that I command you.” (Deuteronomy 4:2) So, uh, whoops? But, otherwise, it totally makes sense to take scriptures that refer to Jerusalem and apply them to an 18-year-old girl. There’s nothing crazy about that at all.
Pastor’s daughters are always dodging paparazzi. It’s super obnoxious. Also, I must be the most unsuccessful prostitute of all time. I was broke back then and I’m broke now. What good does walking around naked do me if I’m not even making some coin? Geez.
More quality parenting advice. If your daughter is a prostitute who isn’t charging for whoring it up and walks around naked for free, you should beat her because that’s just a really stupid business plan.
I feel better. Being immature usually does it for me.
You know, most people can’t say that someone ever hated them so much they literally wanted them to die in a fire. So, I’ve got that going for me at least.
If you want to satisfy your morbid curiosity (hey, I know I would) the full pages are below. I’ve mentioned the pages before, but seeing them and knowing a fire accompanied their arrival is a lot different than just hearing them mentioned. Again, this is just a small sample of the kinds of things that he left for us to find.