Leaving a Cult:

The conversation flowed easily between everyone and was so peppered with Thank you Jesus’, Praise the Lord’s and Hallelujah’s that I nearly slipped and added them into my own speech a few times! The old woody twisted and turned through roads I’d never been down before. The countryside was lovely as the sun began to set, casting its rich purple and dusky gray hues across the sky and over the tops of the giant old oak trees. I could barely make out the words on a simply carved wooden sign that hung beneath a moss-strewn oak as we turned into the pebble driveway that read: The House of Praise, where Jesus is Lord The long driveway was flanked by old magnolia trees encircled with azalea bushes. The old farmhouse at the end of the drive was white with green shutters and a porch that wrapped around from front to back, with a wooden swing hanging on the end; giving it a welcoming aura. “Well Sister Parker and Sister Cindy, come in, come in!” A friendly man greeted us as we came through the old back service porch into an open room with dark wood floors and antique furniture. People were milling about, hugging one another as though they had not seen each other in a great long time. “This is Brother David” I was introduced. “Hmm, maybe she’s not a nun then because everyone is either sister or brother here, including me!” I thought to myself. They had ‘warned’ me on the way over that I might be a bit shocked at what would transpire in the evening worship service. That was more than fine with me. I was ready for something different to shake up my somewhat monotonous routine. I was wide open for anything and anxious to taste a new life in the Lord! There were about fifty to sixty people milling about the large, brightly lit room. Candles glowed from every corner. The dress of the people was casual and ranged from blue jeans to long, swishing skirts worn by some of the young women. “Oh hey, Sister Lynne and Sister Kathy! This is brother Dave from Long Beach” sister Parker announced to the two pretty, young women who were actually blood sisters, but looked nothing alike, yet complimented one another perfectly. Lynne had straight jet-black hair that fell past her hips. She wore large framed glasses which accented her huge brown eyes and pretty smile. Her younger sister, Kathy, had waist length chestnut brown hair and an angelically sweet face which seemed to be lit from within as she extended her dainty hand to greet me. Both girls sat on the floor with grace and ease, crossing their legs and tucking them beneath them, their maxi skirts gathered gently about them as someone started to lead the group in a chorus. “Clap your hands, all ye people, shout unto God with a voice of triumph! (Based on Psalm 47:1) Joyful shouts of praise to the Lord could be heard from every corner of the room: “Praise you Jesus”; “Thank you Lord”; “I worship your name Lord”. These songs from the Psalms continued in carefree and blissful worship from the young men and women in the room. I was in rapt attention and noticed everyone, including many airmen who were stationed at the local base in Biloxi. The mood turned more reverent when the next song that evolved was a slow and worshipful tune: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you, (Based on Matthew 6:33) The haunting melody was being sung in harmony with a lovely soprano voice weaving her tune like a nightingale whose notes reached upward to heaven itself. I gazed with wonder at everyone in the room whose eyes were closed and hands were raised in a dream like state. Then, as if by magic, everyone in the room began to sing their own personal praises to the Lord. Eerily they somehow miraculously blended together in the most beautiful, ethereal music my ears had ever heard. The chant vocalized into a crescendo then decrescendo until it grew quiet as a whisper and stopped all at once.