Nonfiction books, especially Christian nonfiction, are notorious for suffering from over inflation. The author has a good idea and everyone says, “Write a book about that.” So the process begins. However, there isn’t enough for a WHOLE book. So there is some extra inflation that has to happen. The belief is that customers won’t spend money on a small book; they want a “book sized book.” As a person who reads a lot of nonfiction books, I have accepted this fact. I don’t agree with the premise. I would buy a book if it were 25% smaller if it meant I wasn’t rereading things three times in different arrangements. I’ve come up with strategies to overcome this nagging issue. I’ll skim the rest, I’ll quit once I get the gist, I’ll dump it if even the main stuff isn’t worth reading.
So I knew that Subtle Power of Spiritual Abuse would have some of this unnecessary fluffing. BUT, this book was different because the material was SO good, I didn’t mind rereading things. This isn’t a perfect book. There is that fluffiness going on. And the third part - the “what do you do next?” - was disappointing. However, even in that frustration, there were still enough glittering gems to make it worth it. A book of this quality should only be 3 starts; a book of this value deserves 5 stars.
I grew up as a Christian: Christian school, church several times a week, Christian music, Bible studies, all the checkboxes marked. I was taught - and I grew to expect - that this covering with Christianity would lead to a great life. A purpose-driven life. My best life. All the book titles. Instead, at 45 years old, I battle depression and feel like I am stuck in a world that I hate being in. I have trouble finding a church. I don’t have local friends. I’m not even spinning my wheels. The car is sitting in the front yard rusting, like so many in my town.
There have been some books that changed my life. This goes onto that list. As I read the descriptions of what a victim of spiritual abuse looks like, I felt like someone had been doing a Truman Show style observation of my life. The stories sounded like my stories. The charts looked like someone just filled in my struggles. It was a painful book to read because it ripped me open. There is always that warning to be careful if you keep pushing for answers because you may not like the answers you find. Yup. Several times I sat there shellshocked as I realized the implications of what I was reading.
After finishing, I’m not sure what to do next. Like I said earlier, there is only minimal suggestions offered for what my next steps should be. It took over forty years for me to get to this point; I can’t expect things to be fixed overnight (as much as I would like that). It feels like a Matrix-type experience. I took the pill and things can never be the same. What would it look and feel like to NOT have to battle all of the burdens, voices, struggles? I have no idea. And, truthfully, I don’t know if I want to know. It is terrifying. I kind of feel like those freed from Shawshank prison. I’ve been given freedom, and I don’t know what to do with it. That is how world-shattering this book is. I think anyone who claims to be a Christian should read it. I would say it is imperative to anyone in ministry. You will be shocked at what you find. So be ready.