February 26, 2026

I’m exhausted—emotionally and mentally. Angry, confused, and desperate.

I want to yell, to scream at the top of my lungs. None of this makes sense..

My parents are miserable. My dad is being shunned by the very congregation he loved and faithfully pastored for 17 years. He’s surrounded by them—Beckie and Randall on one side, Lynda on the other, Kay, Brandi, Ashley, and Deirdre just a few hundred yards away—they pass by every day. Never stop in, never check on him. To them, he’s invisible. A nobody.

I think back to my childhood, to others who were dismissed and treated this same way. Even then, as a kid, I knew something about it wasn’t right. I didn’t have the power to speak up or change anything, but I remember wanting—instinctively—to be kind, to acknowledge them, to let them know they weren’t invisible. How do the adults around him not feel that now?

Over the past couple of weeks, Dad has tried to reach Gerald—calls, texts—nothing. No response. Nothing that even resembles concern.

Finally, he decided to try one more time in person. Mom said the kids were outside playing when he pulled up. So, with kids around, Gerald couldn’t pretend to hide. He had to come out.

Dad got out of the car, and Gerald walked out and simply said, “James, I’m not talking to you.”

That was it.

Another blow. A cruel, mean, heartless blow.

I keep coming back to the same question: how can they not see how wrong this is?

Maybe they truly don’t. Maybe they’re convinced they’re justified—because they believe they are the “true” church.

I can’t help but think of the Pharisees—so certain they were right, so judgmental of others, believing their actions and rules alone validated everything they did.