When Jeremy was little—two or three years old—he found his dad’s therapy putty and took it with him to bed. It was warm and fun to squeeze. Not long after he fell asleep, the putty somehow became tangled in his hair. As he slept, the cool air hardened the putty, molding it to his scalp. Jeremy woke up early the next morning and snuck into his parent’s bedroom while it was still dark. As soon as his mother, Diana, hugged him, she could tell something was off.
The top of his head felt hard, like a giant scab. She jumped out of bed, turned on the light, and saw, to her horror, that a hard block of dry putty had become as much a part of Jeremy’s head as his hair or scalp. She couldn’t simply cut his hair off and remove the putty. That wouldn’t detach it from his scalp. She needed to somehow loosen the putty, then slowly unthread it from her son’s head. She used olive oil, pouring it on his head until the putty started to break apart. Then she spent an entire day, from five thirty in the morning until the evening, pulling small pieces of the putty off her son. The process was painstaking. It required gentleness to protect Jeremy’s scalp. And it called for patience.
Diana first told me that story last year, not long after I started writing this book. My story of disentangling my faith reminded her of what it took to free Jeremy from the hardened putty. I love that analogy. Something precious—the head of her child—was attached to a lifeless piece of clay. The same could be said of my spiritual journey. I’ve spent the last decade disentangling something precious—the truth—from the errors that were attached to it.
In this final chapter, I want to talk to any of you who may need to disentangle your faith like I did. Maybe you were not influenced by Bill Gothard. Maybe you were. Maybe you grew up under teaching more harmful than Gothard’s. Maybe you were even part of a cult led by an abusive, manipulative man who claimed to speak for God—or even to be a god. Whether you fit into any of those categories, or you’re simply wondering if a leader you’ve always trusted is telling you the truth, I hope this chapter is helpful.
For me, the journey from error to truth has been a humbling experience. I had to admit that much of what I’d always believed was not just inaccurate; it was unhelpful, even harmful. That wasn’t easy. To be honest, it was terrifying. Maybe the hardest part was being willing to listen to the criticism of what I had previously believed.
I had always thought that the best path through life was under Gothard’s teaching. Maybe you, too, have been convinced for years that the only way to please God is by following specific man-made rules from a particular teacher. God had to humble me so I could see that all my effort was not actually honoring God. You may be in a similar situation, ready to examine your convictions and compare them to Scripture. That process is well worth it. No matter who you are or where you come from, you need what I need—what we all need. That’s humility.
Through this process, I’ve come to understand that humble people don’t think too much of themselves, but they don’t think too low of themselves either. Humble people know who they are, what they are good at, and what talents they do not have. Romans 12:3 provides a great description of a humble person: “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.”
Ten years ago, I don’t think I understood that. I thought I had life figured out. I assumed my beliefs were superior, regardless of whether I could find what I believed in the Bible. And I judged people who didn’t live like me. Judgmentalism is a clear sign of pride. I still struggle with pride, and I always will. But I’m grateful for the humility God is working in me. He opened my eyes, as only He can, to see that I was thinking too highly of myself. He gave me undeserved grace. As James 4:6 says, “But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’”
Without God’s help, it’s tough to see our pride. In fact, I’d say it’s impossible. If you and I are ever going to submit to God and His Word, we need to begin by asking for humility. That’s a request I know God will grant. After all, Proverbs 11:2 says, “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.” And I know that if I ask for wisdom, God will give it to me. Ask God for wisdom. Ask Him to show you where you may need to change. No one can step out of a false religious system if they are unwilling to take that first step. That was what I had to do to begin my disentanglement journey.
The second part of my journey was probably the most emotionally difficult to take. I had to recognize that change was necessary and be willing to admit that ideas I’d always believed were not true. Of course, no one likes to challenge their beliefs. It’s unsettling. It fills life with uncertainty. It can feel like an earthquake is happening and you aren’t sure what the ground is going to look like when the shaking stops.
So how did I know I had to go through this disentangling process? How did I figure out that my convictions had a mix of truth and error? First, I needed to take a close look at not just what Gothard was teaching but also how he was teaching it. When I did that, I realized he was using fear to manipulate and control me.
I recently came across an article on the front page of Bill Gothard’s website titled “Why So Many Teens Join a Cult.” Gothard gave five reasons this happens. First, “cults thrive on a passive mind.” Second, they “appeal to the lusts of the flesh.” Third, they “activate the fear of rejection.” Fourth, they “instill lies in the gut brain of followers” (I think he’s talking about a person’s innermost thoughts and desires). And fifth, they “use guilt to deaden the conscience of their followers.”1
When I read that, I was surprised because all those points are true of what he taught me, particularly the third and fifth points. Because the community surrounding him was so tight-knit, it became impossible to imagine life outside that world. The thought of losing my place in IBLP was frightening. And as Gothard talked about all the ways my actions could displease God and remove His blessing, he was activating a fear of God’s punishment. He was using a fear of God to bring me back for more of Gothard’s teaching. The only way to avoid God’s punishment was to obey the basic principles.
I also understand now that when I was listening to a Gothard seminar, I was being given more and more reasons to feel guilty—as the fifth point suggests. His messages described all the ways I could fall short of God’s standards. That instilled in me constant guilt. I wasn’t measuring up, so I needed to listen to more seminars.
Gothard set up his teaching in a way that made me believe I couldn’t navigate life the way God wanted me to without Gothard. As you think about your spiritual life, ask yourself: Am I relying too much on the opinions of men? Is someone serving as my primary source of truth instead of the unchanging Word of God? If you come to that conclusion and are willing to change, you have taken a huge step on your own disentanglement journey.
Under the fifth point about cults on his website, Gothard said the way to keep teens from joining cults is to make sure they are getting private interpretations of the Bible: “The only way to freedom is for a cult member to get daily Rhemas from reading the Bible, memorize them, and quote them to God every night while going to sleep. During the night they will go down to his gut brain and cleanse it from false teachings. Then the verses will instruct his heart brain with wisdom (Psalm 16:7). His heart brain will control his head brain.”2
This quote is from one of the many articles Gothard continues to post on his website. It’s new material, but I see it as more of the same problematic ideas he’s always taught. He is giving his readers more rules to follow. For that reason, I believe his solution is more likely to produce guilt than to keep a teenager from it. That’s what happened to me. The more I tried to follow rules and failed, the more guilty I felt. As you’ve read this book, maybe you’ve realized that you, too, have been influenced by someone whose tactics were designed to produce fear, not freedom. If that’s the case, I encourage you to study what the Bible says about the fear of God and what Jesus does with our guilt.
I’m not saying that if you are going to disentangle your faith, you have to stop listening to your pastors or teachers. That’s not helpful, and it’s not biblical. Talking about spiritual leaders, Hebrews 13:7 says, “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith.” I always want to encourage Christians to support, love, and listen to their spiritual leaders. But as they do that, I also encourage them to compare what they are taught to the Bible.
There’s a cool example of this in the Bible itself. The apostle Paul was teaching a group of people called the Bereans. The Bible calls these people “noble” because they didn’t blindly accept everything Paul said as truth. They examined his teaching and compared it to the Bible (Acts 17:11). That’s something all of us need to do.
If the people listening to Gothard had examined the Bible to make sure he was teaching the truth—if they hadn’t been content to take Gothard’s word for it—many would not have followed him. The same is true of any spiritual leader. If you want to be sure your leaders are teaching you truth, keep your Bible open and compare what they are telling you to what the Bible actually says.
A big part of my disentangling journey was asking what Gothard was using to motivate me. Fear? Threats? Guilt? Or love? Was he convincing me that the only solution to my problems was to follow his principles, or was he pointing to a solution beyond himself? A true leader recognizes that he is not the source of all wisdom. He sees himself as a conduit to the truth that existed long before he came into your life and will still exist long after he is out of your life. Gothard believes he is the source of truth, and I used to believe that I couldn’t reach my full potential without his teaching. But the man I followed is a hypocrite who couldn’t even follow his own rules. When I saw that, I realized something needed to change.
The next step in the journey of disentangling God’s truth from error is to find the right source of authority. In chapters 4 and 6, I talked about what the Bible is and what it is about. I said it comes from God. It has no mistakes. It is the beautiful story of how God created the earth, rules over it, and has redeemed it through Jesus. What I didn’t do in those chapters that I’d like to do now, is explain why I believe the Bible is what it says it is: the words of the living God. Second Timothy 3:16 says, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.” A lot of ink has been dedicated to this topic. Some people say the Bible is just a human book. Others say it comes from God. I can’t write an entire book trying to convince you that the Bible is God’s Word. Much smarter people than me have done that! But I can explain why the Bible is my authority and why I think it should be yours.
First, I trust the Bible because it has proven again and again to be historically accurate. There are hundreds of prophecies in the Old Testament. Those are predictions people made about what was going to happen in hundreds, if not thousands, of years. All of them came true. Every single one. That includes the prophecy that the Messiah would be born in a small town called Bethlehem (Micah 5:2). And the strange, specific prediction that the Messiah wouldn’t break a single bone when He died on the cross (Numbers 9:12). If you take the time to read what the Bible says, you will discover all kinds of stories that can’t be disproven.
Second, I trust the Bible because it has changed my life. Reading Scripture the right way has shaped me in profound ways. It’s changed my perspective on fear, doubt, and pride. It humbles me, especially when it says I am a sinner, incapable of doing any good on my own. As Romans 7:18 says, “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.” The Bible teaches me about what Jesus did. The Holy Spirit convicts me of sin and changes my attitude, desires, and motives. I trust the Bible because I have experienced profound change when I understand and believe it.
Third, I trust the Bible because of Jesus. The Holy Spirit has given me eyes to see that Jesus is who He claims to be: the Savior of the world. He is the Bible’s main character; He dominates every page of Scripture. And He is compelling. No man could have invented the story of Jesus. It’s too fascinating. Too rich. Too miraculous.
Jesus is the ultimate reason that Christians follow the Bible. Only there can you and I learn about Him. Truth surrounds His actions and words. His power is unmistakable. He is more real than reality itself.
If you realize you need to disentangle from a fear-based system and look to Scripture alone for guidance, there will most likely be consequences. This is often why disentangling can be so difficult. Someone who is part of a tight-knit religious community knows they will lose relationships if they question what everyone around them believes.
People who come to Christ from a religious system that shuns those who leave have sacrificed everything to follow Jesus. They are living examples of what Jesus said in Luke 14:26–27: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.”
Thankfully, my self-denial doesn’t look like losing my life. I’m not at risk of arrest because I’ve spoken out against Bill Gothard, his principles, and the IBLP ministry. I also don’t think I will lose relationships with my family. I’m thankful for them and pray we will grow even closer in the coming years.
Still, I know that by rejecting the teaching of the community that raised me, I may lose influence. I may not be invited to events and into homes. Some may not appreciate that I’m speaking out on this topic. Others could assume the worst of my motives, or they will say that my husband, Jeremy, is to blame. They’ll say I should never have married an outsider, a man who, though a Christian and a pastor, didn’t believe all the same things I grew up believing. They will assume he convinced me to change my beliefs. While Jeremy walked with me through this journey, he always pointed me back to God’s Word. And those words changed my heart. All Jeremy did was encourage me to examine Scripture, think for myself, and come to my own conclusions. Yet no matter how much I insist that this is my own journey, some won’t be convinced that these are my convictions.
Whether you are deeply invested in a religious system or you have no religion, you will likely face the same criticism if you challenge your beliefs. So why do it? Why put yourself through all that conflict? Why sacrifice everything, or even something, in pursuit of the truth? For me, the answer is in Matthew 16. After Jesus talked about how His disciples must deny themselves to follow Him, He said, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a person give in return for his soul?” (vv. 25–26). Add to that passage a verse that could be the theme of this book: John 8:32, which says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
So why is disentangling worth it? Because when you know the truth, you know Jesus. He is worth all the sacrifice. He brings freedom. He saves your soul. He makes you like Him and, after death, will bring you to eternity where you live with Him in heaven forever. He is far better than the relationships you may lose, the influence you may not have, or the community you leave behind.
In John 15, Jesus talked about what it’s like to follow Him. My life is different, forever, because of this chapter, because I am not only a servant of Jesus. I am His friend.
Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you (vv. 13–15).
Disentangling your beliefs can be a lonely task. It’s easy to second-guess decisions, to wonder if you are doing it right. There will be times when it feels too difficult or complicated, and you will be tempted to give up. I’ve experienced all of that in recent years. I’ve felt lonely. Confused. Uncertain. During those moments, the truth in this passage was a life preserver. It kept me afloat as I went through the storms of change. It motivated me to keep disentangling for one simple reason: Jesus. Through my journey of disentanglement, I’ve found my life becoming more and more intertwined with His. He has made what I’ve gone through in my life, and especially in recent years, worthwhile. As long as I stay by Jesus’ side, He promises I will bear spiritual fruit. He has promised to love me forever.
As I’ve spent more time with Jesus in recent years, reading the Bible, understanding that He is the main character, I’ve become more and more amazed that Jesus calls Himself my friend. My friend. I would be happy to be His slave. Serving Him would be enough. But as He said in John 15, He chose me for something far sweeter: friendship. And because Jesus is my friend, I can go to Him with all my questions, problems, concerns, and failures. He hears me and responds with love. He laid down His life for me. I know He also hears my prayers.
If the end of your disentangling journey is anything other than Jesus, you’ve done it wrong. If your life is centered on anything or anyone other than Him, then you need to start disentangling. As Paul said in Philippians 1:21, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Jesus is worth living and dying for.
I’ve started the last leg of my disentangling journey, but I won’t finish this part of the trip until I reach heaven. For the rest of my life, I will fight to trust God instead of myself. That doesn’t come naturally for any of us. Especially not me. But in the end, it’s what all of us must do. We can’t trust in any person or religious system. We have to trust in God.
When life is difficult, as it inevitably will be, we need to understand that God has a good reason for allowing us to suffer. He also has promised to be with us during the suffering. And when we are tempted to doubt our faith, we can’t look to ourselves for assurance that we are on the right path. We have to look to God’s character and the Bible’s meaning to figure out the next right step.
In the end, that’s all disentanglement is: trusting God and taking the next step in the right direction. As you untangle the lies from the truth, Christ will be there with you, keeping you by His side until He calls you home.