Non-Believer Former Members of the Worldwide Church of God

Now: North Carolina, Then: Miami
cherie.marquez@afterdisaster.com

Hi all!

I too, was born into and grew up in the WCG. My father got involved because his mother listened on the radio while he was growing up. As many of the families in the WCG, it seemed many of our relatives also came to church. I was one of 8 children, one of the older of the 8 of us. My father worked on the railroad and made good money. However, it only went so far between first, second and third tithes and 10 mouths to feed. It was a constant struggle to make ends meet. At the start of a new school year I usually got 3 tee-shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 belt and 1 pair of shoes for the year. It is all they could afford and we all got the same.

I was a depressed child. Being one child in so many made getting any personal attention impossible. I was in charge of caring for my younger brothers and sisters most of the time. When I look back I can see how depressed my mother was. At the time, I had no idea she was so depressed being too young to understand. As was par for the course for most of us who grew up in the church, we weren’t allowed to associate with ‘worldly people’ or make friends with anyone outside the church. I became extremely shy because of constant ridicule in primary school. I was an outsider, as was my brother and younger sisters. School kids were unusually cruel and never missed an opportunity to poke fun at me or my family. I grew up in the 70’s/80’s, and as such we only ate healthy foods. No fats, preservatives, sugars, etc. All of us, my sisters and me developed skin problems from the lack of fat in our diet. My eyes peeled (lids) and were always red and irritated, as were behind my ears and on my arms. All of which has disappeared now that I’m an adult and eat a normal diet.

My moms depression knew no limits, she often slept during the day and charged us with watching one another. She was perpetually pregnant, and gave birth to all of us at home with the exception of the first and last. I can remember we were like slaves. I stood on a chair at the kitchen sink washing dishes as early as 6 years old, maybe earlier (with no adult supervision). It would take me hours and I would develop rashes on the underside of my arms up to my elbows because they would sit in the water too long. My mom would cure that with vinegar, which burned terribly to a young child. We never went to the doctor, God would heal us. In 1977, at age 7, I almost died from a ruptured appendix. I remember I couldn’t even walk, my sister and brother would hold me up and walk me to my bedroom. I threw up everything I ate and slept on the floor in my parents room until my dad made me go back to my room. It wasn’t until I woke everyone up in the middle of the night screaming at the top of my lungs that my dad took me to the hospital. Since I hadn’t gotten treatment before my appendix ruptured, I was in bad shape. I spent 21 days in the hospital and went thru two surgeries to clean out the infection that was raging inside my abdomen.

I hated school, and used any excuse I could to stay home. My parents NEVER sat and did homework with any of us. As a matter of fact we were pretty much left to ourselves after school. I was horrible in school, I never did my homework. I remember getting one spanking after another in third grade for not turning in my homework. My parents never decided to sit down with me and see that I did my homework. It wasn’t important to them. Besides we were going to live in caves in Petra, Jordan, why would I need an education for that!

In ninth grade a miracle happened, we moved across the city. From South Miami to North Miami. This was huge for me because it meant I could start over in school and these kids wouldn’t know me or about the church or about my family and our weirdness. But years of torture at the hands of my fellow school mates made me to insecure to really reach out and make friends. Besides, I still couldn’t go to Friday Night Football games or Saturday dances. So I still was the odd one out and it didn’t take long for me to find myself in fights trying to defend myself from the new kids. I kept a tight lid on the church to my fellow students and had a few school acquaintances that I was friendly with. None, that I saw outside of class or school. I would tell everyone that I was going on a family vacation for the Feast. Of course the teachers knew better and it was hard to keep under wraps.

High school was the only time I had any friendships that were good for me. I had a real friend. Someone who understood what I was going through. She too, went to the church. We immediately became friends, however, she had a lenient family and her parents let her watch TV on Fridays and sometimes even hang out or go to a Friday night game. My dad, who was a deacon at the time, was thrilled. My friend, I’ll call her “Beaz” since that was her high school nickname, her dad was also a deacon and well respected at that. It wasn’t until they realized that when I spent Friday night with her that we were going out to games and just being kids that things took a turn for the worse. We weren’t doing anything bad, just wanting to be normal teenagers. That’s when they started trying to limit my exposure to Beaz. She was a bad, worldly, influence on me and my parents wanted it to stop. By this time I had realized I had a voice and became argumentative about WCG and its teachings. I continued to rebel, sneaking out my window on Friday nights, lying to my parents about where I was going and what I was doing. I was grounded all the time. But I didn’t stop; I just wanted to be normal, not this freak. I skipped school continuously. I used to laugh about it with Beaz, we were going to Petra, we wouldn’t even make it to graduation. It’s funny to me now, looking back that I actually thought that. Because I was vehemently opposed to what the church taught. But when you grow up in a church like the WCG, you can’t outrun those teachings. Neither Beaz, nor me thought any different. I remember the first time I shaved my legs, I got a lecture from my mom about how we wouldn’t have razor’s on Petra and I would have the hairiest legs there. Imagine, our surprise (Beaz and me) to find ourselves graduating high school. We never even tried, nor did our parents encourage us to try or to go to college or to better ourselves in any way. If anything, knowledge was the enemy. But somehow, we managed to graduate in the middle of our class, the class of 1988. No accolades or honors for us.

During high school, we tried to be involved in our YOU activities. Both Beaz and I joined the cheerleading squad for the church basketball team. This was a big deal to our head minister, Mr. Barr. Mr. Barr loved basketball, and he was going to have the best basketball team in Florida. The girls quickly formed a cheerleading squad. Of course, we sewed our own uniforms or our moms did. Mr. Barr spent a lot of time and effort getting the basketball team to its peak. We as a squad, practiced really hard and came up with a terrific halftime dance to the Batman soundtrack, which was hugely popular. The music had to be approved by Mr. Barr prior to us using it. So we submitted it for approval and since it was almost completely music and no words it was a no-brainer that it got approved and we practiced our dance till we dropped. We were good and we worked hard to get that way. One week before the games, one of the parents complained that our music was written and performed by Prince. Even though it had been approved by the pastor himself, he changed his mind and told us we couldn’t use the song. Since we were just girls, it didn’t matter to him that he crushed everyone of us who had devoted our heart and souls to putting on this show and deserved to get to perform. All he cared about was his boys basketball team, the cheerleaders were just a bunch of girls who had better conform and start following the leadership of the men. We performed no dance that year. I quit the squad the following year, as did Beaz.

Needless to say, when the church split, my dad, who was an elder by that time quit the WCG. Everyone was shocked. How can you have faith one day and the next throw it all away. Everyone thought he would go with the splinter group, Global Church of God (I think.) He devoted his life and the lives of his family to the church for 28 years, and now it was over. Just like that he stopped going and he converted to traditional Christianity. My parents are still together, although they attend no church now. We celebrate all the traditional holidays, like Christmas. Which is odd for me since I have no warm, fuzzy, feelings about Christmas. If anything, I think it’s a big scam to get consumers to spend money they don’t have on gifts for people who will probably never use them. I hope to overcome those feelings with my own children and develop wonderful Christmas memories with my own family one day.

I’m 38 now. I got married for the first time at 36. I never thought I would get married, I lived my life like there was no tomorrow. It’s how I was brought up: don’t plan for your future, worry about the now. Why would I get married if the world was inevitably coming to an end in my lifetime? I thought I had escaped the harm the WCG did to some people. My sister for example, she resents my parents for ruining her childhood and bringing us up in the WCG. In a cult! I don’t resent them, my parents loved us and may have been misled. But they bought us up to be good people and we are all stronger for the experience. I love my parents and I know they regret getting involved in the WCG. I finally escaped the WCG, and started living my life. I realize I am going to have a full life (barring any unfortunate circumstance) and I want a husband and a family.

In 2006 I married for the first time and am trying to have a baby. I found this blog and thought I would put down my story for all to read who care too. The past is the past and I’ve finally put that behind me. I often think of the WCG and all the pot lucks that were sooooo good. My childhood is gone, but I plan to live my adulthood to the fullest and make the most of the time I have ahead of me. I hope others who have been through this will find some hope in my story.

Thanks for listening.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 18th, 2008 at 2:02 pm and is filed under Article. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site. Your comments must be approved by the moderator before they will appear.