It was supposed to be every member’s dream to “be sent.” That meant getting a new job in a new state to serve another church.

It was an even better blessing to be sent to live in and take care of a house church.

Previously, I had just been a member at the house church, not living in it. But the summer after I failed out of school and decided not to reapply, my then-husband and I were sent to live in a house church in another state.

“Don’t be leaders,” we were told, even though we would carry out the leaders’ responsibilities at the house. “The members are older in age there. Whatever they want to do, support and encourage them.”

Taking this to heart, later I would let the older members propose my ideas to the main church leader as if they had come up with them.

And later, when we were inevitably in trouble for not bearing fruit and about to be kicked out, I was reprimanded for never having any ideas.

You told me not to be a leader, I thought. I supported them and let them be the ones to get the credit. Didn’t God know?

I stayed silent, though, and didn’t try to defend myself. I had learned by then we weren’t supposed to have any dignity and I’d only be rebuked more if I talked back.