Beware of Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

My husband calls me an ostrich. Not for my long body that widens near the hips, but for my propensity to stick my head in the sand.

Others word it more kindly. An innocent spirit.

I prefer the latter because it implies childlike wonder, not teenage defiance.

It’s not that I don’t want to face problems or see the evil in this world, I just don’t always catch on right away.

In fairness to my better half, he’s right, I don’t always want to.

 In my ministry and my work with local and national organizations to end homelessness, I deal with many shelters and non-profits. I may not always agree with some of the day-to-day operational procedures, but everyone has that "I'd do it differently" mentality from the outside.

So I try very hard not to be critical.

And I certainly can't fault a secular organization for leaving God out of the picture.

But the thing that draws fire from me is a supposed Christian organization using the name of God and operating under the power of the devil.

Jeremiah House is one of those organizations.

When we first moved to the coast, we were introduced to the "pastor" of this facility. It was a renovated church that was being used a temporary homeless shelter for women and families. We jumped on board immediately, a mistake we corrected in the future, and lent considerable time and money to the organization.

Chance, the founder, had an incredible testimony and a heart for those in need.

Or so it seemed.

We noticed a pattern after only a few short weeks. If someone left the grounds, he would tell us they'd been thrown out because they were caught using drugs. Not unlikely, since most came into the facility with drug or alcohol problems. But then we'd see these people and they'd insist they hadn't relapsed.

Knowing the likelihood of a drug addict lying, he maintained our trust.

But then other things started happening.

He was constantly "confidentially" whispering the shortcomings of other ministers and volunteers in the area. He'd create conflicts between churches to keep people from coming together to compare notes of concern.

Little did we know, our own names were being thrown out into the community with similar falsehoods.

Because of our close proximity to this shelter, we had a front row seat to the drama within.

Parolees were terrified because they were forced to attend services in benefactor churches without permission to cross state lines. Children were denied medical attention when ill. Faulty electrical wiring and shoddy construction caused accidents. Family members were unable to call or communicate with loved ones inside and residents couldn't leave the grounds without permission.  Fathers trying to get jobs so that temporary shelter didn't become permanent housing were denied permission to leave. Food stamp cards and income tax returns were to be signed over and everyone was required to work at the shelter's thrift store for room and board only.

On more than one occasion, we received whispered phone calls asking us to give them a ride out of there, but they begged us not to say anything after seeing Chance put families with infants out on the street in the middle of the night when he'd find out they were planning to leave.

I called it the "Katie Holmes" exit strategy.

It was disturbing.

While Chance was using the name of the Lord but not showing any of the true nature of Christ, we were bound by the laws of the Word. His inability to walk in the light was not an excuse for us to follow suit.

So we refused to help anyone.

It was his program and we had to recognize him as the authority of the facility.

But we also had to account for our involvement in a ministry we were becoming more and more certain was operating under a spirit that wasn't of God.

It caused a few issues in my own marriage.

Having a pastor's heart, my husband bucked up against my increasing claims that the pastor was a wannabe Jim Jones leading an entire facility to doom under the name of the Lord and we needed to run, not walk, away from the place.

Then our roles would switch.

I'd decide that for the good of the people there, myself having a heart for children, we needed to stick around and be true ministers of Christ. He'd argue that we were accountable for putting our stamp of approval on this place just by being there.

At that point, the clarity with which I now see things was not so transparent. We just didn't know.

Were we imagining things? Were these people lying? Should we hear these residents out instead of cutting them off? Is the devil trying to destroy this ministry because God is involved?

Everything came to a head one week-end.

I was at my parent's house in Louisiana, drinking a cup of hot chocolate on the front porch swing and reading a morning devotion when my phone rang.

It was Steve, a traveling evangelist who was trying to line up a revival in our area. He'd planned to preach at our church one night and at Jeremiah House the next night.

"Okay, I'm all set to come," he told me. "But I'll wait for y'all to work this thing out with Chance first."

No-one knew the magnitude of the prayers we'd sent up at that point. Careful not to say anything publicly--or privately--that would hinder our own ministry, I was confused. What thing?

I asked him to clarify.

He proceeded to tell me the most convoluted story I've ever heard. It was concocted to discredit us and another couple in the ministry, one that had recently left his place after their own disturbing revelations. Ironically, he had previously successfully destroyed the budding friendship between us, so to claim we were now working together to "defraud the system" was ludicrous. 

I didn't voice my concerns to Steve; rather, I called the one person who mattered.

Our marriage had suffered the strain of this man's lies long enough.

After I repeated my conversation with Steve to my husband, he took the biblical approach and went directly to Chance in person.

Chance immediately backed up. "Uh, you know those prophet-types," he said, referring to Steve. 'They're always trying to stir up trouble."

My husband started to bring some other rumors up, ones he'd found unnecessary to confront in the past.

"Look, they are all liars. Every one of them. If anyone says I said anything about you, they are lying." Chance exploded before my husband even got started.

That was the moment he knew the truth, and we realized that the devil, by way of Chance, had wormed his way into our marriage and our ministry.

Worse than that, we realized that we had turned away people who were scared and hurting and inadvertently confirmed their fears that Christians can't be trusted.

We later found out that before Jeremiah House, Chance had left a wake in several other ministries. There are still men and women of God who are running around with their tails tucked between their legs because of him.

Our personal involvement with Jeremiah House ended, though we've heard from many who've left there. Their stories unstopped, we now know the extent of the con being run as a Christian ministry.

Everything done in darkness will be brought to light, the Lord promises, so I have no doubt that this house of merchandise will soon fall. In my own walk, I've had to let go and leave it to the Lord.

On a professional level, however, the shelter continues to run across my desk.

I do not mince words. Do not send anyone there.

I'll argue the claim that the shelter is better than being in the woods.

Ask anyone who has escaped and they'll agree.