Leading While Bleeding

By Hope Carpenter 

A Christian Post headline for Monday October 14, 2013, read, “Pastor Ron Carpenter Reveals Wife’s Mental Illness, Adultery in Heart-Wrenching Sunday Confession.” Charisma magazine reported, “Weeping, Pastor Ron Carpenter Confesses ‘Horror’ of His Marriage.”

These are just two of the headlines about the thunderous crash of my life that was heard all over the Christian world in 2013.

Words like “adultery,” “mental illness,” “double-life,” “reckless behavior” were commonplace over the next few weeks as strangers sought to describe who I was and what was going on in my life. At the time those descriptions didn’t faze me because I honestly didn’t know how to explain or describe myself, anyway. A broken shell of a woman, I had just confessed to my husband that, beginning in 2004, I had been living a double life—and all that went with that—for the last nine years. He had suspected, and there had been many arguments because of my out-of-the-blue change of behavior, choice of friends, music, dress and lifestyle. But he didn’t know the depth.

I was a small-town girl, raised by very strict, Christian parents. We did well for our small community, and my parents always pushed me to be the best that I could be in everything: grades, sports, singing, piano, attitude, obedience and on and on. The problem with that is that no child is going to be perfect, and there were severe consequences if the standard wasn’t met.

I lived in a state of fear and anxiety for most of my childhood, and because I didn’t want to face the consequences of punishment, I lied to stay out of trouble. Lying became my normal response. I was programmed from a very young age to perform to get love and approval. To make matters worse, I was raped on a date at 15 years old, and because I was afraid to tell anyone, I buried that pain and shame for many years. I didn’t even tell Ron until years after we had been married.

Let me give you a quote from my book, The Most Beautiful Disaster: How God Makes Miracles Out of Our Mistakes, because I think it says it so well:

I never intended to blow up my marriage, destroy my family, or ruin my ministry.
I never thought I could cheat on my husband or live a double life for almost a decade.
But that’s exactly what I did. I also never intended to put on a façade. I never made the decision to hide what was really going on inside, and I certainly didn’t set out to make everyone believe my life was rosy all the time. It’s just that I had been destroyed inside for so long that the only way I knew how to cope was to make sure everything looked perfect on the outside. And after putting on the perfect front for so long, suddenly everyone knew what a total wreck I really was, and it felt strangely good (p. 10).

The truth is, I did not have a clue how to go into adulthood and properly deal with the pressures and struggles of my “perfect” life, and I had no idea how to ask for help or where to go for help. Trauma and buried pain drove everything in my life: my personality, my actions, my attitude, my responses, my marriage, my motherhood, my friendships and ministry.

Maybe you have been there too. Maybe like me, you’re afraid to lift the veil and let people know what’s really going inside your heart and your head. Your transgressions may not be as dramatic as mine were, but you still feel like you’re living a fake, unfulfilled life that you hate. So many leaders are trying to lead while they bleed. This isn’t news to any of us because, like my story, we have read the headlines of fallen leaders in recent days, weeks, months and years. So how do we, imperfect people with flaws, generational curses, inequities, habits, addictions, proclivities, stubbornness, pride and just plain sinful natures, lead well and go the distance? How do we finish strong?

I don’t think God has called us because we are “perfect.” Nor does He require perfection for the “called.” The Bible clearly gives us hope that we don’t have to be perfect to be used by God. He used so many broken, sneaky, scandalous, sinful rascals in the Bible, and that gives us all hope, right? God can and will use anybody. However, I don’t believe that just because God can use us and will use us and does use us in our brokenness that that is his best for us.

I know the guilt and shame that living with hidden sin and unresolved pain brings. I know the inner struggle of feeling “less than” and unworthy because I knew what I had done, and I hated it, but I didn’t have a clue what to do about it. Who could I tell? Where could I go that I could actually get help and not be judged and cast aside?

The church has done a terrible job walking out Galatians 6:1: “Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted.” Because of the prevalence of a hyper-spiritual, holier-than-thou attitude, people feel like they are the only ones who struggle and therefore suffer in silence to escape condemnation from the “perfect” Christians.

I can only speak for me, but I did not have the Christian community rush to my side to restore me gently. Quite the contrary. There were Christian leaders texting and calling my husband to encourage him to divorce me and find him a “good wife.” There was only a handful of people who had compassion on me and wanted to help me unearth the pain that was driving my actions and behavior, and I will forever be indebted to them.

Let me just give honor where honor is due right now. Pastors Lee and Denise Boggs, directors of Living Waters Ministry in Hiddenite, North Carolina, were used by God to help save my life. They literally embraced me, no questions asked, and showered me with the unconditional love of Jesus, loving me to life. What if no one embraced me? Where would I be today? Probably not here writing this article in my sane mind, loving and serving Jesus and experiencing real joy, peace and freedom.

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story of the prodigal son. You know the son had to feel ashamed, guilty, embarrassed and unworthy. That’s how I felt when Lee and Denise Boggs welcomed me into their home, cooked me three meals a day, poured healing scriptures into my heart, took time with me, let me cry and talk and cry some more. They helped me sort through the “whys” of how I ended up where I did. They sought understanding instead of judgment.

When the prodigal son left his father’s house, he left as a son. He sinned and rebelled. When he came back home, he was in the exact position as when he left: a son. Sin does not disqualify us from sonship, but I can tell you this: you won’t lead long, and you won’t lead well when you’re heartsick, when you don’t get healing from the hurt and pain of your past.

Doctors will even tell you not to exert yourself, run marathons or exercise at full capacity, if your physical heart is weak or sick. It’s the same spiritually. We won’t go far, and we won’t do it well until we are courageous enough to be honest about our internal bleeding.

I loved Jesus the entire time I was living a double life. I loved my husband the entire time I was living a double life and was unfaithful to him. Psalm 107:9 (KJV) says, “For he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness.” I spent so many years of my life with my soul (mind, will, emotions) longing and hungry. I thought I had to be perfect for Jesus to really love me. I had no idea that I was a son regardless of my issues. People did not demonstrate unconditional love to me. The church did not demonstrate unconditional love to me. But thank God there was a little, unknown ministry that did.

We are all broken, in need of a Savior. There are no “perfect,” “righteous” people. On our best days we are disgusting, so we’ve got to break this idea that there are two groups of people in the church: whole people and broken people. Our calling as Christians and more importantly, leaders, is to restore the sinners, the broken, the hurting so that they can walk in freedom as sons and daughters of God.

We are all on this same journey together to become like Christ, but we are all at different mile markers. Healing is a tricky thing. It’s usually not quick, and it’s usually not easy, but you first have to stop and admit there is a problem before the healing can begin.

It took me nine months living at Living Waters Ministry, apart from my family, focused on digging deep into my pain. I had to find the issues and stop the bleeding and then isolate myself from triggers and people so that I could heal. Remember, it’s not quick and it’s not easy, but with God’s help you can do it.