This is a pretty big break from my normal post, but something I thought was worth sharing as an encouragement on your journey out of abusive spirituality.
I grew up in a musical family. My mother and father both played instruments and sang. My father always wanted to prove his worth to his perfectionistic father, who insisted that his children would be musicians. My siblings each were forced to play an instrument, but they bristled at it and soon were able to quit. When it was my turn, I actually enjoyed playing the piano, but I was also much of a perfectionist.
Because the piano represented much more to my father than just something I could enjoy growing up, it soon became a source of contention between me and my father. At first I loved it, but he only every allowed me to practice pieces or drills. When I just sat down and tried to enjoy seeing how I could put notes together, he would yell at me and tell me to stop. He would force me to perform for his guests whenever he wanted, even if I felt unprepared. I soon grew tired of the emotional burden and wanted to quit, but he wouldn't let me because it would be a waste [and he would lose face in the sight of his father]. So, I emotionally quit, but continued lessons. I got a lot of nastiness from him. He would say I "took my first year of lessons eight times" when someone asked him how long I had been playing. He never attended my recitals, but when I wanted to try a different instrument, he would say "why would you want to give up piano? You've invested so much time in it."
It continued to be source of both pain and comfort for me. I enjoyed playing, but not performing, and my siblings loved to jealously point out every mistake I made because somehow they thought that I was the "favored one" of the family and had to knock me off my pedestal. Playing was something I did alone to manage stress. My dad once, at an RPI conference glowingly pointed out how talented one of the performers was - he was playing and singing a Billy Joel song. I'm thinking to myself, I could have done that, but my dad hated rock music. I'm sure if I had been the one on stage playing and singing, I wouldn't have heard a peep from my dad and my siblings would have had a field day.
Fast forward to a few years ago. I had left the RP church and joined a church with a praise band, which is pretty much the dark side in terms of what RPs hold as sacred. After a few years of just sitting in the pew, I thought I should help out in ways that weren't emotionally straining and didn't infringe too much on the RP worship style. The first thing I did was join the choir. We would sing songs during the offering (much like Orlando did), and some extra music during a separate Christmas service. It ended up being a hard experience. We were told to "smile" - I wasn't ready to smile, and every mistake I made started the playback of my siblings taunts. There were enjoyable moments, but it was emotionally draining. I tried running sound. I was pretty good at it, but again, I would forget to unmute a microphone or I would fight with the overpowering drums and bass. I couldn't enjoy the service because I was "on" - and sometimes the pastor would ask me questions about his message and I'd point blank say I couldn't pay attention with my responsibilities and I'd have to listen later. I ended up telling the worship director I couldn't volunteer anymore at the same time they had already decided to make me worship volunteer of the year, so it felt super weird to accept the award.
About two years ago, I felt a twinge. I didn't know what to make of it. It was completely out of the blue. I felt like God was saying, I want you to play piano for me. Keep in mind that classical music and worship music are completely different beasts - one is sight reading, muscle memory and repetition, and the other is chord structure, theory and improvisation. The improvisation is what my dad yelled at me for many years ago. The feeling wouldn't stop, and I had some thoughts here and there about maybe playing, so I talked to the worship director with the idea that maybe I could practice for a few months with the band to warm up to the difference and then eventually feel comfortable playing during a service.
That wasn't what God had in mind. I got invited to practice one week, and at practice found out I was on for Sunday. I pretty much freaked out. I was completely unprepared and felt horribly exposed. I practiced my heart out during the week and Sunday came I still felt like my fingers wouldn't cooperate. Then this amazing thing happened. I felt complete peace and even joy during the service! I played plenty of bad notes and didn't do much more than play the chords, but for the first time in my life, the mistakes didn't trigger the record of taunts.
As I played more and more, yes, I got better, but I'd have weeks where my family was falling apart, I was an emotional train wreck, and I'd have to pray, "God, if you want the keyboard to sound good, it's going to have to be you this week, not me!" He has always come through. Peace and joy. I've even been able to smile on stage within the last few months.
I feel in a lot of ways, God is saying, "Yes, I'm your father, but I am NOT your dad!" That's really what I've needed because I really couldn't picture him as anything except stern, separate, perfectionistic and even abusive - the God of the RPCNA. Instead, he has shown himself as loving, providing and gracious.
And, that is not the end! My current church could be described as Reformed and somewhat Charismatic. Not over the top, but they recognize Spiritual giftedness as continuing today (this could be many posts!). One of the members who claims to be able to see angels occasionally took me aside about a month ago and told me that she often sees an angel standing behind me while I'm playing. She says the angel is ministering to my heart. Again, as a formerly lifelong RP, it's hard to take that at face value, but then I put that with my experience. Playing or singing in front of people has always been nerve-wracking and emotionally draining, but I find exactly the opposite when I'm on stage at church, and not even in practices. It made complete sense to me in the moment and still makes sense now. It's really been something I cling to when things turn dark and I feel worthless - this mini-story of my life where God saw darkness and chose to supernaturally intervene.
I had already decided that RP worship wasn't defensible from scripture without a perfectionistic, incomprehensible and gnostic view of God, but I find it interesting that God chose to drive a stake straight through the heart of the RPCNA's distinctives when he worked to undo my abusive past.