The Cost of Betrayal {Epilogue}

{If you missed parts 1 & 2 you'll want to click here}

Yes, what about the others?  

What about the Pastor, and his wife, that screwed me over?

What about my husband, whom I haven't mentioned much at all?

What about the Good 'ole Boys Club who choose to look the other way?

What about me?  Did I stay at the church?  Of course not, right?  Or did I? 

The saying is, "Karma's a bitch" and there's some truth in that. I don't know about karma, per se, but I do know that we don't get away with bad behavior and treating people poorly. It eventually catches up to us and when it does...watch out.  It's going to bitch slap you.* The thing I've had to work through is the way it has come back around on the various people who participated in my collision with betrayal.  It hasn't always been in the way I would have chosen but in ways that were more, well, God. *grin*

But let's catch up on my hub, because clearly he wasn't a betrayer. 

I drove home that day in shock.  Rather dangerous as I have zero memory of the drive and how I even managed to safely get home. I walked in the door and all my hub had to do was look at my face. And then he transformed. At that time we had been married about 11 years and in all our years together I had never seen him with such emotion.  He flushed, his fists clenched and he started for the door. "I'm going to go knock on his door and on his face." I stopped him. I didn't want to but I did anyway because I knew we were going to have to be the bigger people here. I knew how we chose to respond was going to be watched and scrutinized and I was determined to make sure we stayed innocent in this mess. In the next few days he had several phone conversations with the Pastor. He stomped around the house, sweating and angry while his wife (that's me) cried and cowered in figurative corners, unsure of what to do.  We didn't even need to talk about the accusations of inappropriate feelings or relationship between Pastor and I.  My hub knew me and knew that there was no way an ounce of truth existed about that. In the next few months, yes months, my hub was with me at any meeting that happened and he even held a couple of his own. He wouldn't back down and he wouldn't let the Pastor and any of his buddies off the hook.  He relentlessly pursued truth on my behalf.  I sat home on the couch in stunned silence most of the time. He was God's provision of Psalm 91 to me, which years before I had asked God to give me a man that could be his earthly representation on that in my life. And my hub rose to the occasion. 

Be careful of what you plant and water.

The Pastor, and his wife, got away with it for a season. My hub did back him into a corner I bet the Pastor didn't know existed and got him to admit he had wronged me on some level.  It was the most we were going to get from him so we took it. To this day he and his wife have never come to my hub and I seeking sincere forgiveness and confessing their sin against me. They have maintained their self-righteous attitude and the two pages of neatly typed lies they created about me. It certainly created some awkward moments in the months after that when we did run into each other. More awkward for him than me but still awkward. 

The Good 'ole Boys. Ah, yes them. Well there were two that played a crucial part in the whole betrayal.  The senior Pastor and another Pastor on staff then.*  And their behavior is part of the debt of betrayal I live with. It took me 5 years to go back to those men and confront the shame they had attempted to cover me in and stand up for myself. FIVE YEARS. *I walked through the doors of the church with my husband at my side. We sat in two offices that day and with both men I stood up for myself and truth as I should have done 5 years prior.  I presented evidence to refute the lies they believed about me, I confronted them on their own choices regarding the treatment of me, I gave them the full story rather than let the half-story sit out there and continue to distort truth. I could do this because regret had no hold on me and shame was not my name.  Some would say, "You waited five years?  Sheesh, couldn't you just let it go?" The answer is no. No, I could not let it go because God would not let it go.  And if I had not followed God's timing on the when and where of standing up for truth I would have new regrets to deal with. I do my best to avoid having regrets. Guess what?  The timing, five years later, was perfect.  Both men were in a place to hear me and to seek restoration with me. Freedom, for me and I hope for them, happened that day. 

And me? Well by this point you may have figured out that I stayed, we stayed, at that church until I was released by God. And our continued presence, and service, made some people very uncomfortable. Some women started avoiding me (gee, perhaps because they started the rumor?!), the Pastor and his wife tried to ignore me but yet 'stalk' me at the same time (it was weird and unnerving), the senior Pastor from time to time would ask me why I had stayed and exclaim disbelief that anyone would after how I had been treated (clearly he wasn't putting all the dots together...), but then another Pastor took me under his wing and with him I went to Africa twice and helped head up a couple of different ministries in the church. I was even asked to teach at one of the women's retreats (and I did teach, on fear of man and people pleasing). All the while waiting to be released. It took 5 years for release to happen for me personally. The hub just left that church for good last year. 

People, many many people, thought I was crazy to stay. Oh believe me, I begged God to give me release but he held out until the right time. While I stayed and waited the Pastor dug some deep holes of his own and quit before he was let go.   But I was still there. It's important to note that I could have started up the bulldozer and dug his holes for him a bit quicker but I didn't. I didn't give in to that desire to seek revenge or *help* truth get exposed. I stayed quiet, I stayed away from him, and I let him dig his own hole.  This bit of wisdom became my mantra and something I still try to practice to this day, "Do not retaliate with evil, regardless of the evil brought against you. Try to do what is good and right and honorable as agreed upon by all people. If it is within your power, make peace with all people. Again, my loved ones, do not seek revenge; instead, allow God’s wrath to make sure justice is served. Turn it over to Him. For the Scriptures say, “Revenge is Mine. I will settle all scores.” But consider this bit of wisdom: “If your enemy is hungry, give him something to eat. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink; because if you treat him kindly, it will be like heaping hot coals on top of his head.” Never let evil get the best of you; instead, overpower evil with the good." Guess what I have discovered?  That wisdom, when practiced and applied, works! And it keeps the one practicing it in a clear conscience and with a peace that no human could possibly ever understand on their own. So I let him dig his own hole.  

When God gave me release it was a relief. I didn't leave in a huff, I didn't leave in the early stages of wounding, I didn't even leave with any emotion at all. I just left. I left stronger, I left healthier emotionally and spiritually, I left having found my voice again. Such a burden lifted the moment I knew I could leave.  

The cost of betrayal is high but I'm paying down the debt as I can. Are you living in a deficit due to betrayal? Start paying down that debt, you won't regret it. 

* I know. That seems and/or sounds harsh right?  Well betrayal is harsh and the consequences of it are going to be harsh also. 

* Gasp. Beth, did you just 'name' the other participants? Yep. Is there a reason I shouldn't have? Hiding and/or continuing to cover for people doesn't do anyone any good when all is said and done. I'm not naming actual names or even the church so let's all just breathe. 

*This excerpt is taken from a post I wrote about regrets. 

The Cost of Betrayal {Part 2}

{If you missed part 1 click here}

My current boss, I like to call him The Chief these days, is the first male boss I have had and been willing to have since the collision with betrayal 10 years ago.  

When I interviewed for the position a couple of years ago and realized, in the middle of the interview, that he was a he and he would be the first male boss I had since the whole collision my heart paused. I wasn't sure I could have a male boss again. It suddenly felt more raw than it had in a long time. So I had to step back and think. 

If I was going to take the chance again with a male boss a few things were clear.

1) The Chief wasn't the Pastor. Two totally different men. 2) Whatever distrust I had regarding the Pastor I could not transfer to The Chief, that wasn't fair to him. 3) I was stronger now 8 years later than I was then, 8 years prior. I didn't believe in enabling bad behavior under the guise of God or Pastor title (or any title actually) and I didn't believe that I did not have important things to say. 4) I believed more than ever in my gift of discernment as it hadn't let me down yet. I had let it down but not in 8 years and I wasn't about to make that mistake again. 5) Boundaries will need to be established that I stick to, and insist on, no matter what.  

I took the job. 

I got some counsel from my hub and friends who had walked the road of betrayal with me 8 years prior. They helped me establish the boundaries I would personally need and reminded me of the facts - Chief wasn't Pastor so don't make him pay for the Pastor's sins. Trusting a male boss again can work out.

The Chief isn't the Pastor. It was quickly apparent that Chief was way healthier emotionally and spiritually than the Pastor. For example, he knew boundaries were appropriate and important. Over the past 2 plus years of working together we have learned about each other, learned to trust one another, and we've never had any boundary issues. It has been a healing experience for me personally. He has given me space to use my voice and share opinions. He has defended me and he has asked me for "my side" of any conflict that has popped up in the workplace.  He has allowed me to say hard (and perhaps harsh) things and not 'punished' me for them but instead worked with me to get to the core of what I'm saying. He has been a part of the redemption*, unknowingly, of the situation from 10 years ago.  I love the truth of Joel 2:25, "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten...." It sounds a little dramatic but the fallout from betrayal can eat up years of an abundant life. Yet God stays true to his word, he pays us back for those lost years and then some.  

The Chief and I, June 2015. 

He's not perfect, neither am I. But he's always more than willing to admit to his mess-ups, imperfections, and sins. I am too. He's helped the wounds of the betrayal scab over and toughen me up and the best part? He hasn't tried to do that, he just did by being who he is. 

So why was I standing in his office this past week unsuccessfully swallowing back tears? 

Prompted by our hard - but okay - conversation, betrayal came for a little visit. It sat down and started to unpack its baggage. 

"Maybe I just care too much." And saying that I got up to leave before the uncontrollable sob that was threatening to escape came out. Asked for more of an explanation I brought up *The God Card.* Chief disagreed with me and that sob kept creeping up to burst out. I was doing my best to keep it contained. I was failing. I also couldn't quite figure out what was going on with me.  Why was I feeling this conversation so deeply? My answer was 100% accurate but there was more to it. I just couldn't get there on my own.  

About an hour after we both had recovered from the conversation, i.e. I had finally quit crying dammit, Chief walked by my desk and we fist bumped. 

All was well with us.  

But not all was well with me. 

I left a voice message for a friend who knew me back then, back when the collision between myself and betrayal happened. She was also on the church staff at the time. She heard I had quit voluntarily but she also saw me and heard what I was not saying. It was clear something wasn't right. It took a few years for her to find out the full story about that time and, she knows this, for a season I wasn't sure that I could trust her.  The betrayal threw me into a tailspin of distrust of everyone at the church, especially the church staff. I had no idea what women had started the rumor so I didn't know if she could be one of them. It turns out she wasn't, but it wasn't until a couple of years ago that I could even share the details of the collision with her. So I left her a message the day of the meltdown in Chief's office. And this was part of her response, "You were really screwed by a male boss and authority figure and while that happened a while ago you were deeply betrayed and deep betrayal like that can really jack with you....It makes perfect sense that you are struggling so much because there is no way that the deep betrayal and not just the betrayal but the other stuff too, there is no way that it did not leave its mark on you and that its mark did not leave some triggers...." 

Gee, thanks friend because now I'm sobbing - uncontrollably - again. 

Except this time I knew why I was crying. My experience, my hurt, my struggles to trust, my sensitivity to bad behavior, every abuse and bullying I endured at the hands of the Pastor and the woman interloper wasn't being discounted, dismissed, or excused away. It was being acknowledged, heard, and seen. Still, after 10 years, validation of what was done to me is important it seems. (Who knew? Because I sure didn't!)  

"....and now as I'm talking out loud of course this all goes back to the church and the Pastor. Dammit!" And that's when it hit me in a different way than it has before. 

The cost of betrayal is high. It is so high that the debt it creates can be paid down but I'm not sure it can ever be fully paid off. I found myself, post-collision, in a deficit. Every part of my life experienced fallout from the collision with betrayal, which means the fallout touched other people as well.  In short it sucked. It really sucked. 

I've had to fight really hard, emotionally and spiritually, to pay down some of the debt and not live out of the deficit it created. I've done the work of forgiveness and healing and it hasn't been easy. About a month after the betrayal I climbed out of my bed and went to go see a counselor. I am a counselor and I knew I needed some help if I was ever going to recover from this collision. I took the two pages of neatly typed shame to her and when she asked me why I wanted counseling I handed her the pages and said, "Here's why. I need to know what's true and what's not." She glanced down at the pages, read perhaps one sentence, looked up at me and calmly balled the pages into a crumpled bit of trash. "These are lies. Now tell me what happened and let's get to the truth." And so the debt began to get paid down. Yet the cost of my betrayal remains high at times and one of those times happened this past week in the office of The Chief. 

When betrayal and I met face to face I was made to feel as if my gift of discernment and my skills with counseling people were wrong and somehow inappropriate. And I believed it for about 2 days. For months prior I had been discerning several things but every time I brought up my concerns they, and I, were dismissed. So it's hard for me to not equate betrayal and being dismissed. I know they aren't the same but they have the same feeling to my heart and my psyche. As Chief and I had our hard - but okay - conversation I was feeling dismissed underneath all that was being said. I was taking a chance and sharing what my discernment was picking up on and was getting some pushback. And pushback and being dismissed aren't the same or equal either but try telling a scabbed over heart that. You can't. You have to let the heart figure it out and come to terms with it.  That's when you hope that some more of the debt has been paid down and the deficit betrayal causes rises a bit. 

Ten years later and I'm standing. I survived, I have even thrived.  I have done more work for God and his people since being told I couldn't. Thank goodness God didn't listen to Pastor and his buddies! *wink* This past week betrayal tried to unpack its baggage and settle back in to my life but fortunately I babbled and cried to a friend who was able to help me pay down some more of the debt betrayal has wracked up in my life.  So that's where the deficit ends between myself and The Chief. 

But what about the others? Was there any debt paid down with them? 

*These posts (click here and here) speak to other ways God has redeemed the collision with betrayal, he sent me to Africa less than a year after it happened! Yes, me - who wasn't fit for God or his people. *wink*

*And this post is about a man that God started using almost right away post-betrayal to begin redemption in regards to male leadership outside of my husband. 

Click here for the Epilogue

The Cost of Betrayal {Part 1}

Sometimes the high cost of betrayal sneaks up on me with no warning.

I was standing in my boss' office earlier this week in tears. Poor guy.

I was standing there, trying not to do that uncontrollable cry in front of him - failing for the most part. And he was sitting looking at me - contemplative and concerned.

We had a hard conversation but we were okay. And yet there it came, creeping up on me...literally. I could feel the burn of the tears start working their way up from my heart into my throat and straight for my eyes.  Darn it. I kept swallowing down the tears but the red flush taking over my neck and face were giving me away.

"What's going on? Why are you feeling this [conversation] so deeply?"

And the floodgates opened. I couldn't swallow back the tears any longer. I tried to laugh while a sob escaped and I choked out, "Because I'm a counselor. Because I hear things that aren't said out loud and I see things that most people don't. Because I have the gift of discernment and it sucks most of the time because I'm hardly ever believed. Because I hate working for ministries, I'm so frustrated."

And then I couldn't stop crying.
My poor boss.

About 10 years ago I was working at a church in the town where I live.  I had survived, barely, one conflict within our church staff already and was already labeled as a "troublemaker." So I was toeing the line, so to speak.  I regret that now by the way. I wasn't toeing the line, I was people pleasing and enabling the bad behavior of others and even myself to some extent. Anyway. In a series of events I switched 'departments' and moved from Children's Ministry to assistant to one of the Pastors.

The tricky part of the move was the Pastor I was now assisting also happened to be my current counselor. Oh that conflict I mentioned above? Yeah part of keeping my job was a requirement to be counseled by the counseling Pastor on staff. I should have quit my job dammit. So when I made the move to assisting him and also being counseled by him (are the warning bells clanging loudly in your head too?) I had more than one meeting with him in which I asked to get my own counselor so there wouldn't be a blurred line between my job and my personal life, of which he knew quite a bit by this point.  I was assured over and over again that he could maintain the separation.  So I eventually gave up asking and we continued on - employee and counselee.

Then it happened. As it had to. In what scenario does it ever work out that your boss can also be your counselor and keep it all separated and not use it against you to protect himself?  In no scenario, I'm proof of that. I have plenty of evidence to back it up.* 

To back up just a bit let me explain the culture of this staff that, in the end, contributed greatly to the betrayal coming my way.  It was a staff of men whom I called "The Boys" and lest one thinks that is a compliment let me set the record straight. It's not.  Not at all.  In fact, to be clear, the following phrases/terms are not compliments but warnings: "The Boys", "The Good 'ole Boys Club", "The Good 'ole Boys Network" or any other variation on that theme. And sometimes a woman or two sneak in and are a part of that 'club' so it's not necessarily gender specific all of the time. The conflict I had already endured was actually at the hands of a woman who was part of "The Boys" so really betrayal number one was thanks to a woman.  Women who join "The Boys" are more dangerous to themselves and others than the actual boys.

Accusations were being whispered around the hallways of the church and I had no idea. Some women of the church started a rumor that I made a claim about myself and the Pastor I was assisting that sounded like we had an inappropriate relationship. EW.
EW EW EW EW. 
*shudder*
*gag*
If you 1) saw this pastor you would know that my response is legit and 2) knew this pompous pastor you would know my response is legit.
I can only surmise, however, that he liked the idea that I might be harboring some sort of inappropriate feelings for him because what he did with the rumors is where the betrayal picks up momentum as it heads toward me. He told his wife, who by the way is more dangerous than any "Boys Club" - she is a force of her own, mean-spirited, critical, negative, self-righteous, I could go on but I won't. Together they devised a plan to save his reputation but let mine get run over until it resembled nothing but mangled heart and spirit.

The plan included taking the personal information they both knew about me from counseling sessions and using it as reasons for why I was unacceptable to work in or for a ministry and God himself. Then after they typed out their 2 pages of reasoning (I use that term about them in the lightest sense possible) he turned it over to "The Boys" and made his case. Oh, and by the way I had NO idea any of this was going on. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. I knew something was off but I couldn't figure out what it might be.  Now here's where the betrayal really gained ground and collision with me was the next stop.

"The Boys" read the 2 pages of complete lies and believed them without asking me for any input about myself. Yes, not once did someone approach me and ask to have an adult conversation in which I could have an opportunity to even be informed of what was being said and going on.  I was in the dark and I was kept in the dark.

I arrived at work one day, in the dark, and suddenly this Pastor is agreeable to have a "counseling session" with me even though one wasn't scheduled. Huh. Oookkkkaaay. And in the session, which let's be honest was more work related than personal related because this dude was delusional and could not keep the two separated, some things were said and suggested that got my attention. And suddenly the dark I had been in had some light dispelling it and I knew something was really wrong. I was asked to take an extended break and return to the office that afternoon about 5.  Um, gee I think I might know what that means.  (I'm not as stupid as some believe me to be.) 

So I returned at 5ish, after pacing the floor of my parents empty house and being told (literally) by God that I was going to get fired but everything was going to be okay. I called the hub, told him I was getting fired but I didn't know what for and would tell him when I got home. And then I showed up so the betrayal and I could finally meet face to face.

One of "The Boys" was in the office along with the Pastor who had a deep need to protect himself from any sort of accusations - true or false (I mentioned EW on my part but it's unclear about his feelings. EW.) I was handed two sheets of paper with lies and accusations neatly printed up on it and was told, not asked, that all of those words were true about me and my feelings and I was those words and therefore unfit for God and his people.  No, I'm not joking.

Huh. Anytime I opened my mouth and tried to dispute something I was told, not asked, to be quiet and just admit that all of this was true. Huh. I had no way out, they had backed me into a corner I didn't even realize existed and I was not allowed out of the corner.  They were attempting to put me in time out for the rest of my life. And not only that but they were also telling me to confess that I had inappropriate feelings for this Pastor. EW. I refused. I wouldn't do it because it was not true. 

Clearly I was fired because I wasn't fit for God and his people. But I was told that the story was I had quit by my own choice to focus on my family (dammit) and if any other version got out but that story there would be consequences. (Anyone else wondering why in the hell I bought that line of bully tactics?) I left in shock. I didn't know what to say, what to do. I couldn't believe the collision that had just taken place. I drove home but I don't remember how.

The betrayal had layers. Bullying, abuse, self-protection, lies (duh), and baggage. So much baggage. It seems to me, and those who walked with me through this time, that the most obvious baggage is that of now having a male boss. The last male boss, the Pastor/Counselor, I had betrayed me on deep levels. He used personal information about me to shame me into protecting his reputation. During my time as his assistant I endured abusive behavior from him and his wife. They used me to protect themselves and their bad behavior. I was used as their scapegoat for all sorts of things that I will keep private, there's no good now in rehashing them. They bullied me into keeping unhealthy secrets about them and their family. They were toxic and slowly, as a successful poisoning happens, poisoned me for their purposes. I almost, figuratively, died. But they cut me loose before I could perish and for that I am grateful.  While the betrayal was, and still is, deeply painful it was also my saving grace. While the women who started rumors about an inappropriate relationship are no longer welcome to even be spoken of in my presence I am grateful; their lying tongues ensured that the slow poison of this man and his wife to take me out was preempted. And I survived.

But I didn't walk away without scars and cuts so deep that 10 years later, standing in my current boss' office, the bleeding was still happening.



*I've briefly talked about this before but not so candidly. Those thoughts are found here, here, and here.

Click here for Part 2

Grabs to Grips

Have you ever known someone (maybe you were the someone) who outgrew reality and was attempting to make a power play?  Maybe it was in their workplace, their family, a ministry, or some other venue.  And like a car wreck in slow motion others can see it happening but are helpless to do anything to stop it.

I've watched this happen a time or two. In fact I was part of the wreck once upon a time. I got tangled up in someone's grab for power. It wasn't fun.

I've been thinking a lot about this recently and I was reminded of someone who made a grab for power, tangled several people up in it, and it ended predictably.  In a wreck. It always ends in predictable ways, always.

Quite a few years ago there was this dude named Haman.  He was a cocky and arrogant man who outgrew reality.  His boss, King Xerxes, was on the hunt for a new piece of arm candy and he finally picked one. This girl was beautiful. She was the talk of the town. She was also Jewish but nobody knew because her Uncle, Mordecai, had asked her to keep it quiet. During Esther's crowning as the new Queen, Haman thought it would be great to require people to bow down to him in honor.  His boss had suggested it but as the story continues one gets the idea that perhaps it wasn't his idea but Haman's.  Mordecai refused and Haman was offended. He found out that Mordecai was Jewish so he hatched a plan. He decided it was time for a little ethnic cleansing and he made a grab for power.  He plotted and schemed to wipe the Jewish people off the face of the map. He didn't know his new Queen was one of those people he wanted to get rid of. Oops. He approached his boss with an idea that was genocide but Xerxes wasn't smart enough to figure that out so he okayed it.  Haman was strutting around like a rooster in heat. Since his boss thought that idea was good he forgot that he wasn't the boss and started making decisions and decrees without clearing them by Xerxes first. Oops. Mordecai caught wind of the plan to kill off the Jews, asked Esther - his niece and the Queen - to do something about it and she hatched her own plan.  Esther saw Haman for who he was, a power hungry arrogant racist.  By the time she executed her plan things were already starting to unravel for power hungry Haman.  So he turned from trying to grab power to keeping a death grip on the job he had.  You know the death grip I'm talking about?  That one where you are gripping on to something so tightly that your knuckles turn white and you choke the proverbial life out of it.  That kind of death grip. When all was said and done, Haman's power grab had turned into a death grip which turned into literal death for him.

It doesn't always end in literal death but it always ends in some kind of death; career, relationships, spiritual, mental, etc.  Power grabs and death grips turn something that could be beneficial and unifying into divisive and toxic. Power grabs always turn into death grips and death grips always mark the end for that person.  It usually takes longer than anyone else likes but the end is always near at the point a death grip has been established. When it turns from a grab to a grip the spoils begin to stack up and smell. It's like way back in the day when the nation of Israel was making laps in the desert and God provided manna for them each day.  It was fresh for that day only. If you tried to keep some of it for the next day you would wake up to rotting manna which I understand was rather unpleasant. This is kind of what happens when the grip takes over. Things start spoiling and smelling, it gets foul real quick.  And innocent people get tangled up and have to feel the brunt of the consequences along with the power hungry jerk. It's no fun.

So what can be done about those who are grabbing and gripping?  Esther and her Uncle Mordecai provide a great example for us to follow; wisely approach those with true authority to plead the case, interact with the power monger in a "wise as a serpent and gentle as a dove" manner, and remain humble yourself so you don't turn into the next power hungry jerk.  See, we all have the capability to be one - some of us the tendency is a bit more obvious, but others of us fall into it without even realizing it, until it is too late that is.

I've been thinking about this recently because I happen to be watching it happen in that slow motion, feeling helpless to stop it with someone. It's painful, more so for the innocent people who are being run over by the power monger but also for that person because they don't know the damage they are causing...yet. When Haman figured out the damage he had caused it was too late, that's true of every situation where grabbing and gripping happens. The perpetrator can't recover from it in time to save the damage done.  It's so painful.  My heart literally aches and hurts watching people get run over, arrogance stinking up the hallways, damage happening in ways we can't even see yet but will in time. Simply put, it's not okay.

So if you are the grabber watch out because you are going to be gripping soon and that marks an end. Get help now, before it is too late. (Nope, not just being dramatic here.) If you are an innocent bystander watching grabbing and gripping happening in slow motion and feeling helpless then take heart. Gather your courage and go appeal to others, sometimes the accident is avoided. We can work together to avoid the predictable outcome of power grabbing and death gripping.  Together we can take the power back, if necessary, and put it in its place where it belongs.

Simply put, don't be a grabber and a gripper.  It is so unattractive!

Here's some resources I found to be very helpful:
12 Signs of Power Hungry Pastors (But really it's not just signs for Pastors, these are signs for anyone who is power hungry - this article is spot on.)
How to Manage Power-Mongering Co-Workers (excellent article, spot on)
Power in the right and wrong hands (well thought out article)
Are you power hungry?  (We need to be honest with ourselves)
Why Power Hungry Bosses Are Weaker Than You Think (and than they think too!)

3:12:72 (A Friendship Formula)

Over the past decade or so I've been trying to live out my friendships according to a formula that was modeled for me, and you, many years ago.  I call it 3:12:72.  It's a formula that helps me keep relationships and people in proper perspective.

3:12:72 was first modeled for me, and you, waaaaaaay back in the day of Jesus. Yep, I had to bring him into this.  But I want, and need, to give credit where credit is due so he's part of this.  Jesus had his three, his twelve, and then his seventy-two.  The 72 might be a few more or a few less, no biggie. I don't want to get tangled up in details that don't actually matter. *grin*

The 72 came and went and most likely included people who were part of the parables Jesus used to teach others.  These were people who liked Jesus, they were intrigued and moved by his teachings, they felt a pull toward his radical ideas.  But they were also people who had families and businesses and communities that thought they might be a wee bit strange.  So these people came and went. Sometimes they traveled with Jesus for a few days, maybe even a week, but then the pull of life took them back to their homes.  I do think that each time they were pulled toward Jesus and then pushed back home they took Jesus and his radical ideas back into their communities where discussions and ponderings continued about this man tromping around saying and doing some pretty crazy things.

The twelve: Peter, James (son of Zebedee), John, Andrew, Philip, Thomas, Bartholomew, Matthew, James, Simon the Zealot, Thaddaeus-Judas, Judas Iscariot.  Out of the *72* the twelve were picked by Jesus.  He specifically called them by name and they went. They were compelled in a deeper way than the group they came out of to trust this crazy guy just a bit more. Their families understood, their businesses kept running from the help of others, their communities maybe even were a little impressed that they were called by the crazy, yet super cool, dude stirring up the pot with the Pharisees.  They thought a little more about the things they were hearing and seeing. They asked questions and wrestled while traveling with this man.  They weren't willing to go back to what life had been without Jesus in it.

And then there were the three: Peter, James (son of Zebedee), and John. The three who were also part of the 12.  Yes, Jesus was God but Jesus was also man.  And as all wo/men know, we click with some more than we click with others. And it's okay, it really is.  So these three Jesus clicked with a little more and in different ways than the other 9.  And it really was okay. These three got *it*.  They had a potential in them that Jesus knew he could trust. They might have done or said stupid things from time to time but they got Jesus. Peter, I always feel the closest to him, summed up this deeper devotion to Jesus well when this conversation happened:
When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
And then this conversation later on:
On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?”
Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before! The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you—they are full of the Spirit[a] and life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.”
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.
“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve.
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Jesus had his three, his twelve, and his *seventy-two*. How he interacted with the people who fell into those groups serves as a model for us and our relationships today. There were appropriate levels of intimacy, interaction, and expectations as he spent time with a "3", a "12", or a "72".

Interacting with a "72" meant that expectations were lower because of things like uncertainty about this guy and all of his radical ideas, or because they didn't spend the kind of 24/7 time with Jesus to see him in all kinds of circumstances, or because there was a trust between them and him that only reached so far.  And that was okay. It meant Jesus reserved the harder teachings for the 12, it meant that he wasn't going to reveal the Kingdom of God in its total reality to others outside of the 12, and he wasn't going to call the 72 by name and ask them to drop their nets and follow him on land.  It was all okay.  Each "72" he interacted with never felt slighted or like Jesus reserved himself from them. He still made the interaction personal, warm, unique but with boundaries.  And boundaries are okay.

We got to see the interactions with the twelve.  We have been able to witness how Jesus opened himself up to them and shared deep and hard things with love. He led them, he loved them, he did what he could to draw out their potential, he placed trust in them when others questioned it, he broke bread with them, he walked with them, he lived out a fulfillment of the Law for them.  And yet, even with these precious men he drew boundaries. He would go off to pray, sometimes none were invited and other times only three were invited. With the nine he gave important tasks and spoke about important things but sometimes the three got a little more.  He didn't have expectations of complete loyalty to him from the 12.  He knew, without them knowing at times, that some would struggle and did struggle with him and what he was saying and doing.  And yet he loved them and lived life with them and kept his expectations of them realistic with the help of boundaries. And boundaries are okay.

Then there were three. These three got to witness some pretty spectacular things with Jesus. They got invited on special hikes, sacred garden spots, and tasked with being proxy children. They weren't perfect but Jesus knew he could trust them 100%, he knew stuff about them they didn't know about themselves. He built his kingdom on them. He told them far more than he told anyone else because he knew they would keep it to themselves until the time was right. They might have messed up from time to time but he knew they loved him. His expectations of them were a bit higher because he knew they would live up to them even if they didn't know it yet.  He could look at any of the three and they could understand what he wasn't saying. The other nine couldn't read him that well.  It's okay, Jesus didn't want or need everyone to read him that well. And even with these three he had boundaries but they were different and less reserved.  And boundaries are okay.

*You* are a pretty smart person, I'm guessing *you* have figured out the model by now.  Our relationships fall into the 3:12:72 and we are someone's 3, 12, or 72.

In my relationships with people they always start off as a "72".  Some stay there and others move closer to the 12 kind of relationship.  Very few are in my 3 zone. And that's how it should be. The 3 zone shouldn't be crowded.  A three in my life is someone who has loved me despite me. Who has lived through my ugly and painful times with me and still I have somehow managed to keep them as a friend.  As the book of Ecclesiastes points out, there is a season for everything. And that extends to even the 3:12:72 formula.  Some people in my life have gone from being a 3 to bypassing 72 never to be seen or heard from again. You know what?  That's okay. It's okay that there are seasons of relationship and that every now and then people in my life shift and I have to readjust expectations and interactions.  I have to do it with people and they have to do it with me.  Sometimes we are aware and other times it happens without awareness.  The older I get the more I understand that it's okay. It's okay to be in and out of season with people, it's okay to have boundaries and stick to them, it's okay to reevaluate someone and adjust accordingly.  It's really okay, and actually it's really the most healthy.

I didn't realize at first that I was modeling this formula for relationships, it just happened.  But once I realized what I was doing and why, I understood the relief I had been feeling. I understood why it had become easier for me to be in relationship with more difficult people.  I was able to approach people and even situations with a clear perspective on expectations of that person and myself in regard to that person because of who they were in my life; a "72" I don't expect a whole lot from, I keep that relationship to the basics with maybe a more personal tidbit thrown in here or there. But I always attempt to interact with that person in a way that doesn't make them feel like they are "just a 72."  A "12" I still attempt to keep fairly low expectations of but I have noticed that I can trust them with the personal parts of me a bit more. So I share a little more deeply.  And a "3"?  Well they know the good, the bad, the ugly and still seem to like me!  It always awes me a bit.  I'm one of the most unlikeable people I know. But my three's seem to be blinded to that. I am grateful.  Everyone needs some three's.  Everyone needs some of all the 3:12:72 because I have experienced that having some of all provides us with balance and perspective. And we all could use a little more of that, couldn't we?