Priscilla’s Story
The following story includes descriptions of domestic violence which may be disturbing for some readers.
“So you're telling me that your children, for all these years, have been physically and emotionally abused, and you have been physically, emotionally, and sexually abused," he replied after listening to over an hour-long, condensed rendition of my married life. Rick Sinclair looked genuinely concerned as he defined my family’s predicament. As for myself, I sat shocked by his assessment.
I didn’t know at that time that all this craziness we had been living with for 16-plus years was typical domestic abuse. I didn’t understand the cycles of abuse and that abuse wasn’t a daily event. Honestly, I thought my husband needed some spiritual guidance to change his relational style. I had been in denial for a long time, but I was at the precipice of educating myself and opening my eyes to what my children and I had endured. The veil was about to be lifted as to the real Rick Sinclair and the Christian Fellowship Center cult.
A quick background: I was raised in a very biblically-sound church, having accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal Savior at the age of nine. I had my struggles maturing my faith in Christ as a young adult, but I tried to be involved in church even when in college. As I married and bore children, we entrenched ourselves in the Christian community. Since my husband desired to change jobs frequently, my family was transplanted to many different regions of the country and became involved in many different churches. I strongly feel that my experiences within various congregations helped me to see the deception within CFC’s leadership.
We arrived in upstate New York in September 1998 and began attending Christian Fellowship Center in the spring of 1999.
Not only did a close friend attend the church and recommend the fellowship, but my husband had also attended CFC in the early 1980s while he was in college. Personally, I was excited to join CFC. I was impressed that there were many well-educated people there, which is a rarity in St. Lawrence County. As a mom of 8 children, I felt at home with the large family-oriented atmosphere. Sunday mornings were rich and my children were making friends easily since they were favored by the Sinclair children. Plus, the Friday school program known as Christian Fellowship Academy was impressive, and I was anxious to enroll my homeschooled children. We loved it…at first. Those elated feelings, however, were soon to be challenged.
At first, there were little things that seemed odd; for instance, Darlene Sinclair, the pastor’s wife. She was aloof and unfriendly as if to make you feel apologetic for bothering her. One day, in particular, stands out in my memory: one Sunday my whole family had been invited to celebrate Julia Sinclair's birthday. When we arrived at the Sinclair home I meandered into the kitchen to see if Darlene needed help. I looked forward to getting to know her more, especially since we had many things in common.
She ignored me and wouldn't engage in any conversation with me. Her daughters and husband conversed, but Darlene didn't. It was like that the entire afternoon. Blatant refusal to engage. She would, however, be bubbly and talkative with everyone else. I can't express how strange and rude this was. Never in my life had someone invited me into their home only to treat me so poorly. I left that house disturbed. At the time, I figured she was insecure dealing with some emotional issues, but still found it inappropriate for anyone—especially a pastor’s wife—to behave in such a way. This was only the first odd one-on-one with Darlene.
It wasn't only Darlene who behaved rudely toward me. Other members were aloof too. People with whom I had a great deal in common with had no desire to engage socially with me, not even to say, "Hello, how are you". People walked right past me and did not respond with so much as a "Hi" when I smiled and acknowledged their presence. I never had this happen anywhere else, but I figured these people were also insecure or preoccupied with their own problems. Regardless of this noticeable trend, I managed to form a small group of friends and my children seemed to be thriving. No one knew of our secret life within our four walls as the abuse within the home continued to escalate.
During those years my husband worked out of the country 95% of the time. He was living in an ocean-view condo in a tropical resort, living it up while his family was left on a dilapidated New York farm that we were renovating—correction: that I was renovating—and we were 20 minutes from the nearest grocer. He would come home for a weekend or holiday and lord over us as the kids and I waited with bated breath for him to leave because the visits were so unbearable.
Around the year 2000, this man—among many other things—began demanding that the older girls dress conservatively to an excessive degree, to not talk to any boys, and to start discussing an arranged marriage for my eldest daughter who was only 13 years old. Obviously, this stirred a lot of rebellion in the home. There were many times that our 15-passenger van broke down and he told me that I was not allowed to have it towed for repairs. We went for 2 or 3 months without the family vehicle functioning.
His physical punishments toward the kids were severe and unwarranted, and he was increasingly abusive to me such as dragging me down a flight of stairs. The abuse continued to escalate during this time, and it was unfathomable by the time I did start talking to people at CFC about it.
At this point, there are surely readers who are wondering why I didn’t call the authorities or seek help at a shelter. My reasons for this were complicated. First, I believed–and still do–in the traditional roles of family members, with the husband as the leader. That is biblical. What isn’t biblical is a misuse of the position by frustrating children, and not loving the wife as “Christ loves the church,” which I failed to comprehend. Second, I had faith in working through spiritual conflicts reminiscent of the churches depicted in the Book of Acts and Paul's letters to the early churches. In addition, I didn’t think anyone would believe me if I told them what was going on.
My husband was handsome, educated, polished, and personable. He successfully displayed a public facade that he was a “man of God” and devoted to his family, and we helped maintain that deception as a family because any negative talk to others would lead to punishment.
Another contributing factor was that I had no concept of a “normal” family situation. I was emotionally abused throughout childhood, experiencing much dysfunction in my parent’s home. I was left with a warped sense of self-worth and didn’t really know what respecting an individual entailed. Also, I had been groomed to take insults and disrespect from my mentors even as an adult while pursuing a professional career in the arts.
By 2000, I had been beaten down to think everything was my fault, and I couldn’t function without help because I was stupid and useless; to expect more was selfishness and arrogance on my part. I was so low at this point in my life that I questioned whether God chose me as His “adopted heir,” or rather just used me to teach my children “The Way” to later on be discarded to the pits of hell like Judas. I remember praying to God and saying, “I am going to keep seeking you, because I want you, Lord, even if you don’t want me.” It was in the midst of this confused despair and conflict that God began showing me in incredible ways how much He does love me and that He hears my prayers. Thank goodness God began to do this because I was up for a fight not only against my husband but against Rick Sinclair and this so-called church.
As the abuse at home and my depression began to spiral I was encouraged to talk to Sandie Colbert, one of the deacon’s wives, or to Rick Sinclair. The suggestion came from a friend who said she could tell "something" was going on in my home; she too was in an abusive marriage. This friend had good experiences seeking help from these people, so I chose to speak with Sandie and her husband, Don, in January 2001. I felt good about this interaction at first, and they told me I needed to see Pastor Rick. I spent an entire afternoon with them. This was the last time Sandie and Don spoke to me.
I began having panic attacks due to the fear and stress of opening up. Within a couple of weeks, I was laying my family’s trauma before this supposed shepherd of the church. And at first, I felt good about that conversation. The later meetings left me confused and demoralized. I was told that I needed help to hear God’s will in the situation because I was too involved to really hear the Lord’s voice. Apparently, they could hear God’s will on my behalf. This is not scriptural and I kick myself for having entertained that idea.
By then it was February 2001. My brother was dying in Pensacola, Florida. When I told my husband I wanted to go down to see my brother, he refused to let me take the trip on the basis that my family wasn’t worth spending money on (we were far from poor). I told Rick what was happening and he brokered a “deal” with my husband: I would say my goodbyes to my brother, miss the funeral, and fly immediately from Florida to Puerto Rico, where my husband was residing, for the purpose of “making another baby.”
As a reminder, I had already been blessed with 8 children. Having babies wasn’t a problem for me. I flew down and while in the Caribbean I phoned Rick about what was going on with my husband: signs of another woman, weird behavior, etc. Rick told me that he would talk with my husband, but he didn’t want to be "too hard on him". Rick went on to explain that my husband was very intelligent and “he didn't want to ruin his mind.”
I arrived back from this trip to find that my church and Christian Fellowship Academy responsibilities had vanished. At that time I was co-directing the CFA choirs with Darlene. No one had mentioned a word of this change to me; I just walked in and noticed I had been replaced. No one except for a couple of my closest friends spoke to me after this, they stared at me and turned away instead. I had signed up for a mentoring program that the women's ministry was promoting. I signed up to mentor and be mentored, but when the list came out, my name wasn’t even on it. There were other times I was completely ignored like this when signing up for activities that were open to all women–or so I thought. It was weird. It became clear that undergoing marital difficulty meant that I would be shunned by CFC. That is so unbiblical. There are numerous scriptures calling us to come alongside one another during trials; to help, strengthen, and encourage. As I was pulled away from everything, I noticed that Rick’s demeanor toward me had changed.
After Rick talked with my husband, he began saying to me that I was being “corrupted” and needed to meet with women to pray over me. At first, Rick told me to choose the women myself, but after seeing who I chose, he made his own decision as to who would pray over me. His responses to my disclosures of continued abuse at home were increasingly vague and non-committal. At this point, I even invited the friend who recommended Rick to join me in a meeting with him. She left very disturbed and outraged by his behavior; problems for her soon followed.
I would ask questions of Rick about scriptures, and he would simply stare at me and refuse to answer. It was as if he was indignant that I would dare attempt to discuss the Bible with the "Great Sinclair." I then sought out the help of Bill Hull, a new member who said he had extensive training in abuse counseling. At first, Bill agreed with me that my husband was abusive. He and Rick met with my husband. At one point they supported him leaving the home after I was assaulted and left bruised; however, they decided to let him move back in without informing me. At this time my husband quit his job and began maintaining 24-hour obsessive control over the household. Rick and Bill told me they couldn’t stop him, refused to intervene, and would not explain their lack of communication with me. The children and I were terrified about this.
Throughout this time, I continued to tell Bill all that my husband was doing at home despite his counseling meetings with him. At first, Bill appeared to genuinely be on my side and wanted drastic action to help the family. Then he would meet with Rick. Bill would leave those meetings with a dramatically different approach to my situation: vague, non-committal, just like Rick.
After this happened a couple of times, I called Bill out on his “before Rick behavior” and his “after Rick behavior.” Bill became very defensive and told me angrily: “I will not go against my spiritual Daddy.”
After this incident, Rick, Bill, and my ex-husband began having meetings behind my back. When pressed, Rick told me I was delusional and had "perception problems." At some point I admitted that I did things behind my husband’s back over the years to survive; turning up the heat when he left the house so we could be warm, or redirecting finances behind his back to buy essential items such as clothes. If you’ve been in an abusive situation you most likely have had to do the same. When Bill and Rick heard this, they strongly implied that the troubles in my home were due to my lack of obedience and submission to my husband. I was disobedient, therefore, I deserved the treatment I got. Bill even tried convincing my older children that I was to blame for my ex-husband’s abuse, but they knew better.
Rick gave me the name of a counselor in Watertown to help me in my supposed misguided, delusional state; a man he trusted and had gone to himself. I sat down with this professional and laid out my home life just like I did with Rick. I shared with him how Rick said I was delusional. The counselor, however, rose from his seat and told me I was as clear-headed as can be. He said that I needed to get my children and myself away from our abuser as soon as possible—and said to stop listening to Rick. Upon hearing this, Rick said that the counselor didn’t have all the facts, didn’t know my husband, and was therefore incapable of properly assessing the situation. I had been screaming for help for over two years and nothing had improved; in fact, it had gotten worse. My children and I were now pariahs to CFC members. At this stage, I hadn’t even made a decision to divorce.
After yet another round of horrendous abuse, I called Focus on the Family counselors. I had found them helpful in the past. They agreed with the counselor in Watertown and urged me to get myself and my family safely away from our abuser.
Then, Pastor Mike Tomford called me out of the blue to try to coerce me back into compliance. He knew details of my situation that I had only shared with Rick and Bill. I was told these conversations were just between me and them; divulging my private communication was ethically—if not legally—wrong. I finally reached my limit.
I filed for divorce. I was totally at peace in my mind and heart the moment I made the decision. For months, as I opened my Bible daily to read I kept coming across verses dealing with peace and confusion. “For God is not the author of confusion but of peace” (1 Corinthians 14:33). “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). Nothing CFC nor Rick Sinclair and his cronies presented to me resembled scriptures about how to treat one another. They inspired fear, hate, and confusion. God, however, kept putting those scriptures in front of me to show me what HE—not Rick Sinclair and CFC—wanted me to do. God knew what was in my husband’s heart, knew of his unfaithfulness, of his deceptions, of his wicked heart.
Every time I listened to the people at CFC, I was confused and felt like I was bashing my head against an iron wall. The moment I stopped listening to them and started listening to God, I was fully at peace. My depression left, as did anxiety and fear. No more panic attacks. Even when CFC members kept calling me up to inform me how unhappy God was about this decision for my family and how I was sending my whole family to hell, I was 100% at peace. I stopped trusting these people and started trusting God.
It wasn’t smooth sailing divorcing that man and CFC. I tried for a little while to allow my older girls to stay at CFC and CFA due to friend attachments even though I was attending church elsewhere. This stopped when Rick called other parents and told them not to trust my children. He told his daughters to ignore what my girls told them about their father because their perceptions were askew.
Rick tried to stop my daughter’s wedding by gossiping to our minister and calling her abusive father instead of me, even though we had restraining orders against him. When I challenged Rick about these tactics he outright lied about his involvement. There were so many lies I caught this supposed "man of God" in. Rick even showed up in family court at least twice as a witness on behalf of my ex-husband. It went on and on.
My ex-husband tried starving us as he took all the money. For an entire summer at least we went without a single penny coming in. God took care of it. We never went hungry, cold, or sick. It was miraculous how He took care of us! Despite the restraining orders that were in place, our abuser sneaked into the house while we were sleeping more than once. In another display of cruelty, he even killed our two beloved dogs. God always protected us. CFC knew there was no money, and that we were still being threatened by our abuser. Even so, no one reached out to help. These are just a few things we dealt with after leaving my husband and CFC. But I was at peace —unfathomable peace.
I am now far away from there, remarried to a wonderful gentleman (17+ yrs) and my children have grown up and are forging their own paths successfully. Despite it all, we have been amazingly blessed. Joel 2:25 is our theme song: “I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten…” The Lord has done this for us and more.
When Rick and CFC have come to mind over these many years, I have hoped and prayed (sometimes—I must admit—forcing myself) that Rick, Darlene, Bill, Mike, and the rest of CFC would wake up, see their errors, and change. It has been sad to hear that their corrupt methods and theologies have only worsened. They are not representing Jesus and what He taught. Instead, they idolize and worship the man, Rick Sinclair. It’s good to see that some of the evil is being brought into the light. I pray that vein continues.
If you are reading this and are immersed in CFC, I fervently pray that you seek a true Christian church and break from the abusive control there. If you haven't been affected by it, don't think it cannot become your nightmare. Consider whether you are truly seeking the Lord, or just the acceptance from the leadership.
For those of you that have been turned off by “church” at CFC, I pray that you will find community and peace elsewhere. Look at what scripture says about how the church is to be, and how people in general are to behave. God tells us in His Word to “test the spirits.” Search the Bible for truth. Don’t take someone else’s word for it. Remember, Jesus spoke about how the greatest among them in Heaven was the least, and the least among them the greatest. CFC is far from this concept.
And for those of you who are, or have been abused, my heart goes out to you, and I pray you find healing and peace in knowing the deep love of the Lord Jesus.
