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Life out of the Adventist Eggshell by Geneva Chinnock I read an article in which the author described growing up in an eggshell. She had been told that this white shell was protective and even comforting, but instead it was a barrier, preventing her yolk from being free. It prevented her from knowing how to talk to God, from expressing what she couldn't find within herself, from developing faith and from rejoicing without hesitation. Her empty soul searched for something more but could find nothing within the shell, nor could she look outside the shell. The eggshell she described was the Adventist eggshell. I found her sense of emptiness overwhelming but familiar for I, too, was raised in the Adventist eggshell. But unlike the author in the eggshell, I have broken free from my Adventist eggshell. I was educated in the eggshell lifestyle from first grade through college. My choice of career inside the eggshell was limited to one of three options--teaching, nursing or medicine. Medical careers appealed to eggshells since healing was acceptable "work" on the Sabbath and so would not dent the eggshell. Music was encouraged as a hobby but not a profession, because Saturday performances would be "breaking the Sabbath." The eggshell determined my vegetarian diet which was loaded with cheese and, of course, eggs. I asked my grandmother about cholesterol. She had no idea, but told me we didnÌt eat meat for health reasons. The eggshell dictated my dress, which was properly unadorned. Visions of being Miss America played no part of this little girl's dreams. Miss America wore earrings, which serve no function, and eggshells didn't wear them. One eggshell teacher said that in heaven our crowns would have clocks in them instead of gems. The eggshell grew. What about movies, drama or makeup? "That's not what good little Adventist girls should do," was the standard eggshell answer. I didn't know the reason why. That was just the way eggshells were. Accept it as the gospel. What is that, by the way? I played my predetermined role perfectly, from being a church musician to Sabbath School teacher to being on numerous committees just because I didn't know I could say no. No one said no in my family, either. No one said no to my mother's anger and rage because that wouldn't "look good." So I learned to walk on eggshells. An emotional eggshell grew. One day, though, a small Voice penetrated my eggshell. "There is something more than this." I began reading "non-eggshell" Christian authors, praying that God would protect my shell! After all, when one lives in an eggshell, the slightest tap might crack the shell. Little did I know how hard the shell really was. I wondered what made these Christians so different from the eggshells that I knew. How did they know so much about God when they didn't have "the truth" like I did? One day I ran into another eggshell friend who joyfully shared about a Bible study that she was attending. I wondered how a Bible study could generate all this joy and excitement. Bible study was only something people did to become eggshells. Eventually, God led me to this Bible study where I began to learn how much I didn't know about God. After 30 years in "the remnant church," after keeping 1560 Sabbaths, I still did not know my True Sabbath Rest--Jesus Christ. Eventually, the eggshell of my youth cracked up. The eggshell "pillars" crumbled in the light of Scripture. These "pillars" had blinded my vision of Christ, and as the shells fell away, I realized that Christ is the substance, that He is the yolk, and what is on the inside is truly more important than what is hanging on the outside. I am free now, free in Christ, free to be scrambled and used in whatever service the Lord has for me. Freedom from the eggshell was scary. I realize now how limiting it was, how in many ways it has crippled me. I take comfort in the fact that God's strength is made perfect in my weakness and He will use my wounds to help heal others. I worship now at Trinity where the focus is on the Lord only. Not on ourselves, not on a prophet, not on externals or on disputable matters. The focus is on the Lord and His creating a change of heart from the yolk out. The sermons are pure God's Word, not contaminated with bits of egg white. And His word sticks to my yolk. I used to pray that God would move me away from the sea of eggshells that I live in. But just as Jesus told the freed demoniac to stay on the island and tell what God had done for him, He has called me to that too. So I stay and coach others as they begin to peck at their eggshells. There are people who aren't happy about cracked eggs like me, but it wasn't for eggshells that Christ died. It was for freedom. "Stand firm then and do not let your yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." |
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Enjoyed this post Dennis, thanks for posting. Sheri (¯`•♥•´¯) ¤`•.♥.•´ ¤ (¯`•♥•´¯)
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Its good to read about how people have been set free from that stuff...Good to see you around Sheri
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