Crazy Community Part III

The eviction of Linda, Ernie, their four small children, and Bob was not cause for great distress among our ministry members. Linda and Ernie had been told, by God, that Ernie was to quit his job and that they were to hit the road for an unspecified period of time. This transition was to work out nicely, though, because the Cornerstone Festival (sponsored by our friends at JPUSA) was to take place on the heels of the eviction. Linda and Ernie could camp at the fest and stay there until the JPUSAites had left. After that, they would stay at campgrounds "wherever the Lord led".

Linda organized the purchase of group tickets for the fest as well as a collection for the "food fund". All of us gathered at their home in order to divy up the tents, sleeping bags and camping equipment, and while a few of us were sent to the campground to get things set up, others remained behind to help Linda and Ernie pack up their stuff and put it into storage.

The weather was rainy and cold that day, and I felt dispirited as I sat in the cold rain trying to look after Linda and Ernie's children while they (and one of the least, ahem, intellectually gifted members of our group) whined and protested against the cold and the forced confinement of the tents. Eventually the rest of the folks showed up, and we settled into a week of Cornerstone. I, for one, had a great time, though several of our members kept their long faces, convinced that most of these trinitarian heretics were going to hell.

Unfortunately, this attitude had really started to bug me, and by the end of the fest, I had decided to break with the group. I got a ride back home with an old friend and had determined that I would never see Linda and Ernie again. This is not the first time that I have made God laugh at my plans.

A few weeks after Cornerstone I went to the doctor to get my school physical. It was during this fateful appointment that I learned why my jeans no longer zipped. I was pregnant, and pretty far along, too. Faced with the choice between a late second trimester abortion or carrying the pregnancy to term, I chose the later (though I seriously resent those who choose to read a political, or even a general moral, significance into this private choice). This meant, of course, that "college" wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Unwed motherhood in 1987 was certainly not the great scandal that it had been even a decade earlier. I was still humiliated, though, and tried to keep my condition a secret. My parents, bless them, supported me in my decision to carry the pregnancy. My parents weren't going to force me to work during this time, so for the next 4 1/2 months, I was going to have a lot of time on my hands.

Of course the "gospel grapevine" ensured that everyone in the ministry had heard of my predicament. Eventually Linda, Ernie, and Bob came back from their sojourn and contacted me to offer assistance. They had, in fact, been living out of their cars and tents for 40 days and 40 nights when they decided it was time to come back to civilization. I was grateful for their kind care. As it turned out, they were still homeless and jobless, but they, along with several other ministry members, were living in a tiny apartment. It wasn't clear what exactly was going on, but the situation did not sound good.

As my pregnancy progressed, I often thought of the "old days" (though only a few months had passed) and spent my time brooding over my fate. Much of this sadness was lifted, however, when I received a ministry newsletter in the mail. . .

Stay tuned for Part IV.