Jeff Britton's Testimony
After my 7-year-old son Andrew was killed, in the middle of a spiritual battle, I pushed on for almost 10 years. I became the head elder at the church. Built a new building debt-free. But eventually, had to confront the head pastor with a charge of adultery, which proved true. He had been a friend and mentor and had been the one who had both baptized Andy and prayed with him as he died alongside the road. I didn’t believe the rumors – giving benefit of the doubt - until I sat down with him and he told me the truth. He actually advised me on what my responsibility would be in removing him before the congregation. After his removal, I found a replacement pastor, but somehow, everyone stood back from me. These country folk didn’t know what to make of me. I made decisions. I took bold action. I did not pursue humiliation for the pastor, but asked the group to pray for him. I was called on when some demonic or paranormal situation would occur – some dramatic stories there but yuck! And I spent a lot of time in prayer. You know... a weird guy.
Eventually, I left. Ten years in, I had almost no sense of God... just habit and duty. I prayed on my knees at least an hour a day and remained in the spirit constantly... but heaven seemed closed, locked up even. Finally, I stood up and told God, 'You know where I am, but I don’t know where you are. So, if you are indeed merciful, come and get me.' It is hard to pray when your mind is filled with conflict that you cannot get rid of. So I threw out disciplined pray(er) too. It just brought anguish.
When we remodeled the house, I put the new fireplace right where I used to kneel. Every time I put a log in, I would say, 'Here I am! Where are you?' I felt justified in my anger. Not even so much AT God, but at how I must have stupidly placed my trust in him in a way that he did not honor. My son was lost in a battle with the occult. And he couldn’t even show up and say 'Sorry,' or 'I got him... don’t worry' or 'Howdy do!' I got a big fat nothing. I was pissed and every time I prayed, I told Him so... whoever Him was.
Instead of serving in the church, I focused on things I wanted to do. I worked on creative projects. Produced multiple albums, but mostly learned [that] musicians just create emotional messes. I learned how to build my own business and worked with Sue to make it thrive. I did not denounce God in anyway, but my prayers did get louder and filled with accusation. I was serving those around me. They took, and seldom returned anything. I was honest to a fault in my business dealings and worked as unto the Lord; however without input, it is easy to wear out and I did. I used up everything I knew. Meanwhile, the dust piled up on my bible. I seldom considered searching it because as far as I was concerned, I could study it my whole life and never understand why it took so long to just write 'love your neighbor as yourself.' The rest of it seemed more like genocide from an angry storm deity, superstition and wishful/magical thinking, mass delusion or Paulianity.
I knew I was in the wilderness, out in the picker bushes with the jackals (business) and owls (mystics) and wandering spirits. But most attempts to call out to God were just an echo of what had been. The few exceptions to this problem were not enough to carry me onward. I keep myself intact, but had retreated to basic Christian essentials. As a successful business owner, I learned people would jump to the most stupid conclusions about me based on their own inadequate stereotypes. I also had to keep a legal shield around me since there are so many desperate or confused people raking at opportunity.
I look back and see a good 10-15 years that could be considered wasted. But I also see that God was using all the study and scripture and consideration I had done over time. I was stripping my belief back to the core. I was also stripping myself back to the core. I thought I was OK, but as I was unraveled, I was confronted with my deep sinful nature. When I did find my way back. I found that my understanding of scriptures had lost some filters. When I read it fresh, but fresh and new coupled with a huge pool of knowledge. Like being young, but knowing what you know when you are older? Stupid things fell away and new layers opened up. I could hardly believe what I was reading.
My recovery started with forgiving God. Stupid I know, but He did respond. Lots of false starts. Try to spin up, however, discouragement and a sense of futility won most of the time.
Currently, I stitch a church together from the IFA National and State team, Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) weekly, a monthly visit to the Lutheran Church Sue’s father attended... liturgical, but the pastor is smart and awake. I also stream content from a number of ministries. Dutch and Tim Sheets are near the center. They are enlightening. However, there has never been another experience that remotely matches the first few years at Calvary Chapel. What we had in hand was very rare. Efforts to organize and become more or bigger seems to always have some kind of timed explosive in the middle. Cross a line... boom. God seems to prefer small, even quirky, groups of believers who move in faith... even take the long shots in faith. Dynamic, active – sometimes extreme - intercessory prayer seems the way to go for me, and I think I have found my place and my people.
Long story short, I reconnected with IFA... and one thing led to another and I took a volunteer position as the State prayer leader for Indiana. Since then, I have found my people. The group has some of the most mature Christians I have ever met.
Jeff Britton, IFA Indiana
c. 2022 by Joyce Swingle. Testimony used with permission of Jeff Britton.
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