Broken Dreams

I am about to tell a story about me that very few people know about. Some of the things that have been happening lately concerning pastors/churches has really brought this terrible thing back to my memory. In 1975 my husband and I quit our jobs here in Chattanooga to serve in full time ministry. We were so excited. We had made several visits to this church and felt that God was really calling us there. I knew after about a week or two that we might be in a situation that was going to be bad. We arrived at the church to go visiting. The pastor called my husband into another room and told him that I could not go on visitation because my dress was too short. Evidently he saw me when I was getting out of the car and my skirt must have been above my knees. Regardless, my skirt was below my knees when I stood up. Anyone who knew me back then knew that I was a very conservative person. I made all of my clothes and made sure that they were not offensive in any way. I had to sit there until everyone got back. I felt so humiliated. After we got home, the pastor’s wife called me and asked me why I was trying to entice her husband. Entice her husband???? Today I would have told her that if I wanted to entice somebody they would not be old, fat, bald, and wear ugly black glasses. As we stayed, every three months the pastor would call both of us in. I wasn’t even on the payroll but I got a lecture every three months. We could not do anything right. I could go into so much detail as to a lot of the things that happened, but as time went on, we knew that it didn’t matter how we left, it would be terrible. We learned that the pastor had stood a deacon and his entire family in front of the church and told all of the terrible things they had done and had the church vote them out. The previous associate pastor and his wife had to stand in front of the church while the pastor proceeded to tell all of the bad things they had done. The church not only voted them out, but went to their house and sat all of their furniture out in the yard. We heard these stories when we visited members trying to get them to come back to church. We knew that this would happen to us—there was no way of getting out of it. So my husband resigned at a deacon’s meeting. The pastor got so angry that he turned blood red and threw his glasses across the table. He said you can’t. My husband said, I just did and walked out. The pastor lost his chance to stand us in front of the church. The next week was like a week in hell. We proceeded to get all of our things packed and get out of the house. Oh, did I forget to tell that by this time I was teaching kindergarten there and I dearly loved all of those children. The pastor went to each family and told them what a bad person I was. After we got back to Chattanooga we received an 11 page letter written by the pastor. He went into detail about all of the things that he thought we had done so badly. He made copies of that letter and handed it out to every church member and also mailed that same letter to several pastors here in Chattanooga. I took the letter to my attorney and he told me that this man must really be crazy because the things he wrote were just crazy. I wanted to sue him so bad for slander but my attorney said that this man would probably love to have a good fight. He said to ignore it and it would probably drive him crazy. I don’t know who went crazy because I had nightmares every night and had to go on nerve medicine. I couldn’t believe a man of God could treat anyone like he was treating us. We truly thought that we would be serving God and instead it felt like we went straight to hell. It didn’t even end there. When we finally decided to move our “letter” to a church here in Chattanooga, we told our pastor that he would probably get that 11 page letter. Well not only did he get that one but the pastor wrote another personal letter. He outlined how the church had grown while we were there and how it dropped off to half its size when we left. Did he not realize that he was the cause of the loss of membership? We didn’t talk to anyone there except one deacon and his family whom we had gotten close to. We knew that the people loved us. During the summer they filled our car with vegetables. At Christmas my high school girls’ Sunday school class took me to Montgomery for dinner and gave me a present. They loved going on visitation with me. Oh, and about my high school girls class. One of the girls got pregnant. She was the daughter of one of the deacons. The girls and I wanted her to know that we loved her so we planned a baby shower. I got a phone call from the pastor. He told me that not only could I not give her a shower but I could not attend a shower or give her a present. It would be like the church putting its ok on premarital sex. I told him that God had forgiven her and so had we. He said you heard what I said. After we left that church this girl married the baby’s father. They had a little girl. One night it was raining and they ran off the road and hit a telephone pole and killed all three of them plus another friend in the back seat. I wanted to go to her funeral, but guess who was going to do the funeral? You guessed right the same pastor who said I couldn’t give her a baby shower. I lived in fear of this man until after I had married Charles. Charles and I had gone back to the church we got married in for a homecoming. The pastor who married us had moved to Georgia but he was the preacher that day. I told Charles we had to go to let him know we were still married and happy. The church was packed. They introduced some of the preachers there and the first one was, you guessed it, my biggest fear was right there in that church! I told Charles I had to speak to him after the service. I went over to the fellowship hall where everyone was eating and I went up to him and he stood up to shake my hand. He kept looking at my name tag and I introduced myself as Diane Rizzo but you know me better as Diane Gasaway. I had a death grip on his hand. I could tell he wanted to let go. His wife looked down at her plate and never looked up at me. I smiled so big at him and it was like the heaviest weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I faced my fear and I think he was actually afraid of me. Charles told me he wished he could have video taped his face. He said his expression changed from smiling to like he wanted to bolt and run. Well, I’ve told most of this story. But I just think that Christians don’t act like that. It took me a long time to recover, but it taught me a lesson. We answer to God. Not all Christians are really Christians. We should pray and help one another. There was only one perfect person, Jesus, and I am certainly not even close to perfect. I try to treat others the way I would like to be treated. I have found that kindness outweighs any ugly words that you can ever say to another person. This was hard for me to write. It is tough sharing something this humiliating. But, it became a stepping stone. I never want to set myself up as judge and jury against someone. Would Jesus had treated anyone like that? And there you have one of my broken dreams. DR 8/23/13

Dunkin' Donuts

Construction started a couple of months ago on Signal Mountain Road beside the new Zaxby’s and Baskin Robbins. I had heard that it would be Starbucks and I’m really not crazy about Starbucks. Today I passed by and the signs were up—Dunkin’ Donuts. I immediately thought back to something that happened years ago. One night Charles and I had a terrible argument. It must not have been too serious because I don’t even remember what it was over. Anyway, we were in our Chattanooga apartment and he stormed out and it was 11 p.m. After about an hour when he didn’t come back, I started calling our house on Lookout Mountain. I thought he was probably being stubborn and just not answering. So, I got into my car, I had an RX7 at the time, and drove home. Boy at 1 o’clock in the morning going down that mile long driveway was really scary. I parked and the house was all dark and no Charles. I went into the house just to check and see if he had been there, but it didn’t look like it. I left to go back to Chattanooga. I got to the foot of the mountain when a Nissan truck flew past me. I thought there he goes. So I turned around and went back up the mountain and went down that dark driveway again and when I got to the house, still no Charles. I got back into my car and headed toward Chattanooga. By this time, I was praying and asking God to please keep him safe. All the time I was still calling his cell phone and the phone in Chattanooga. I was beside myself until I turned into the driveway and there sat Charles’ truck and the lights inside were all off. I burst into the door turning on the lights and asking him where he had been. He said he didn’t want to talk about it and just come to bed. I didn’t want to come to bed, I wanted to know why he wouldn’t answer any phone. He just said, come to bed. So reluctantly I went to bed and in the stillness and quietness and darkness, I realized where he had been. I asked, “What kind of donut did you have with your hot chocolate?” He giggled and said “Toasted Coconut, how did you know?” I said “That’s the only place open this late.” So, all was well. I had to get up early to meet a friend for breakfast at the Cracker Barrel. It was my birthday. She handed me my card and it said, “To my warm and crazy friend.” I laughed and said, do you want to know how crazy??? DR 8/21/13

Dreams

I shared a flash dance of a waltz by Tchaikovsky on Face Book. It put me in my fantasy world of being able to waltz to that. I’ve always wanted to be able to dance and if I could just waltz to that, it would be wonderful. But, there is at least one thing that I need to do to copy the dream. I need to be in a beautiful long, flowing dress. I could picture myself waltzing this time because I have learned how. When I listen to classical music it always puts me in another world. It puts me in the world of dreams and hopes and where everything is wonderful. It takes me back in time. I can remember as a little girl I loved to read because I could become the character in my books and live that fantasy. Where do all of our hopes and dreams go? Why do we not hold onto them? I guess the reality of life sets in. That’s why it’s so wonderful when you listen to songs like this, you can close your eyes and all of a sudden you’re in a different world. DR 8/15/13

Worry

I don’t know why I have this problem of “worry.” I seem to worry about everything. I worry if I look ok. I worry if I’m going to say something to somebody and they take it wrong. I worry that somebody may not like me. I want everybody to like me, but I know there must be some people who probably hate me. I have to admit that I don’t have anyone in my life that I hate. I do worry that I will not find someone to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t worry about that as much as I used to though. It seems the longer that I am alone, the better I like it. I think that you have to like yourself and enjoy your own company. I seem to get along with myself pretty well. I worry about my daughter, son-in-law, and I especially worry about my grandsons. So far, I think I have two wonderful grandsons and they are good. Oh, they have their moments, but they are always good to me. When I need hugs, I just go over to Christi’s and get plenty of them there. They tell me I look good, and I think everybody needs to hear that every once in a while. I’ve never thought that I’m pretty, so I try to make up for it in personality. Well, I worry about that too. Sometimes I think I talk too much, and I worry about that, but Chloe never talks to me, so if I talk a lot to you, I apologize in advance. Just tell me to shut up. Then I’ll worry about you telling me to shut up. Do you get where I’m going? I worry about any and everything. Oh, how I wish I could never worry about anything, but that wouldn’t be me. Well, now that I’ve said all of this, I’ll worry about what people will say about all of the things I’ve said about worry. Oh well…… DR 8/10/13

Everything Happens For a Reason

I have seen good come out of a lot of bad things that have happened—even to me. Today my dance instructor told me that their lease will not be renewed and I asked what does that mean? He said it means he needs to look for a job. We talked about this is not the worse thing that can happen. I told him that to me, death is the worst thing that could ever happen, and I have survived even that. We agreed that sometimes when these things happen, it forces us to do something else. I told him to take his passion and make it happen. Those are some words that have stuck in my mind from the song, Flashdance. I have been searching for my passion. I really still do not know what it is. I don’t know if you have ever felt like this, but when something bad has happened to me, I just want to crawl into a shell and wish I could die. I know I keep telling myself that in five years it won’t matter any more. When I look back on a lot of things, I wish I could have handled myself differently. I wish that I could have known what I would find out later. Guess that would be like a fortune teller, and I don’t think anyone can predict the future. I just know that if these things never happened, we would stay in the same old rut that we get so accustomed to. I never thought even a year ago that I would be taking dancing lessons and loving it the way that I do. And to think that I had to get the courage to make that phone call to sign up. Nobody believes that I am the introvert that I really am. I have to make myself do a lot of things. I’m getting better though. I really hate to lose my instructor. I’ve just gotten attached to him and he likes all the crazy stuff I say and do. Today we worked on a turn and he kept saying you’re making it so much harder than it really is. When I finally did it, yes, I was making it way harder. Which dance do I like best? Well, I was really wanting to get more involved with the Tango. I asked Rob when could I wrap my leg around him? Oh, he just shakes his head. Well, they have a picture hanging on the wall with that very thing. I guess my favorite is the waltz. No, I like the Rumba, well, I like the foxtrot too. They are all very similar. But my all time favorite is the hustle. It is so much like what we used to dance when I was a teenager. Oh, am I reliving those years? I think I’m just beginning to live again. DR

Am I Too Old For This???

I had lunch with Brenda last week and we both realized that we have a lot in common. It’s so hard to find single women who still want to be active and do things. After two years I found Debbie and we went on a cruise together—my first. It still scares me half to death to do some of the things that I do. First of all, what if I mess up? What will people say about me? Well, I have started putting all of that aside and just put myself out there. Brenda asked me if I wanted to meet her Saturday and have dinner and then go dancing. Of course I said yes, but I thought I will be sitting there like a knot on a log. She said oh no, you will have a good time. I have to admit I was a little scared. I did dance with a couple of guys but I ended up dancing with a man named Paul who was a really good dancer. I asked him if he takes lessons and he said yes. I had a ball with him. I left that place soaking wet! I told him he was wearing me out and he said that he thought it was the other way around. I have to tell you, Paul is just a little older than my daughter. It’s hard to keep up with somebody that young! As Brenda and I were leaving I told Brenda that the beautiful bike outside the door belonged to Paul. About that time Paul came out and Brenda said Diane wants her picture on your bike! I wanted it for my grandson who loves motorcycles. You know, he told me he thinks I’m the “coolest” grandmother ever. Well, it was a little difficult getting on, and then Brenda said you two act like you like each other. So, there you have it! There is no attachment between the two of us, just fun. I may sit on a motorcycle, but I’m not sure I ever want to be on one when it is moving. They scare me. How am I today? I could barely get out of bed. I have to admit I had a lot of fun and I’m glad there was somebody there who knew how to dance—not that I’m that good, but it was fun! DR 8/4/2013