RCG Exit Story: Adelle Ambrose
Adelle Ambrose | October 31, 2022
Four years ago this month, my life changed in every sense of the word. Still, to this day, my family’s departure from the Restored Church of God remains the most impactful event of my life. It is meaningful in every way.
Before beginning, I'd like to admit that I am wary of sharing my story. However, four years of freedom later, I feel as though I am finally ready to talk about my personal experiences in the organization. I also hope some of you can take something away from this article or feel less alone. Because I attended from birth until my teen years, I was never a baptized member. This may speak more to the younger generation, which has moved on from this organization or similar ones.
I was born in the early 2000s into RCG, roughly four years after its founding. My parents, at this point, had been longtime members as they both were born into the WCG (Worldwide Church of God).
Before I turned two, my family moved to Wadsworth, Ohio, after my dad had been offered a position to work at the World Headquarters of RCG.
As a young kid, I understood that my family and I were "different" from those outside the "One True Church." I saw people "of the world" as evil. My family and I practically shunned our own extended family. To me, they were the "different" ones and "worldly." Since some of them were in "splinters," a term used to describe the other COG groups by Pastor General David C. Pack. To this day, I am still rebuilding family connections and friendships after all of the years I lost.
What affected me most growing up in RCG was the constant state of fear and dread I felt about my family and other individuals. I cared about losing salvation and being cast into the "Lake of Fire." I can vividly recall exactly how my little seven-year-old brain pictured watching people I cared about die.
As a kid, though, I still bought into everything that was being taught. When I was very young, you could not tell me that RCG was not the “only true church” and that David C. Pack wasn’t being used by God to teach “the truth” and “spread the Gospel.”
Things slowly started to change when the prophecy series began in November 2015. To put this more into perspective, I was twelve years old during Part 1, and I'm now nineteen. It is still continuing today with more than 400 parts.
In the beginning, DCP’s word vomit was crazy, but not as crazy as it has progressively gotten over the years.
I honestly didn't mind, at first, the 2 ½ hour-long closing sermons he would give or the Bible studies that were becoming more and more frequent.
I still fully believed that God was speaking through him at the time.
Looking back now, I can see my parents getting increasingly worn down, exasperated, and tired from the amount of work put on their plates. Slowly my dad's time got taken up more and more by DCP, and he didn't get to spend enough needed quality time with his family. DCP's predictions continued, and he was continuously wrong. And then, wrong again. And wrong again. People slowly stopped talking about the prophecy series because no one had any idea what was going on.
Another topic is being a "minister's kid." When I was a lot younger, I wasn't affected by it as much. Then, stakes got "raised," you could say, after Kevin and Jennifer Denee resigned. At this point, I was also getting older, and that was another factor, as well.
Although my dad liked to remind me that there were no rankings in the RCG, he would tell me that I had to set more of an example because I was an evangelist's daughter. I understood clearly why and did the best I could at the time. I was told that if you wanted to get more technical and look at ministerial ranks (even though that was not a Christ-like thing to do), it was DCP, my dad, and then the other ministers. (I would like to clarify this was after the Denees left.) I hope people do not get upset because I am not saying this to brag. I certainly don't see this as something brag-worthy, and I hope nobody else does. I am just stating it as something I was aware of at the time.
At services and especially at Feast sites, I remember people greeting me for the first time by saying, "Oh, you're Mr. Ambrose's daughter!" not usually using my name. I understood why people greeted me as such. I was one of the "Ambrose children." However, as I started getting older, I became more and more uncomfortable with it. I just wanted to be seen as myself, not recognized mostly as an evangelist's daughter, especially at Ambassador Youth Camp. I would get teased, but not in a mean way. It was more joking, "shouldn't you be setting a better example, you're Mr. Ambrose's daughter?" by other campers sort of way. It was getting to the point where people thought that was a part of my personality. Trying to uphold the family name. To an extent, it was, however, not by choice. I just wanted to be me. I just wanted to be Adelle.
I never voiced my concerns about others referring to me as such, mostly because I was scared it would come off as being rebellious. When, in reality, all I wanted was to have an identity separate from my last name at times.
I never attempted to be perfect. That was not who I was, and I even voiced that to my closest friends in the organization. All I wanted was to be the most authentic version of myself that I could possibly be. Did I feel the pressure to be "perfect" and "better" because I was the "evangelist's daughter"? Of course, I did. This was exhausting at times and left me feeling as if I wasn't living up to the expectations that people may have had of me.
At this point, I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or been unfair to while in RCG. While I was only a kid, I knew there was a lot of room for error on my part. I especially deeply regret the people I cut off while I was still in the organization. I regret all of the family members I didn't grow close to at the time because they weren't living "the only right way of life." Maybe part of me was too scared to because I believed there wasn't much of a future for them at the time. I don't know.
I ask anyone who may have been hurt by my actions for their forgiveness.
After Kevin and Jennifer resigned, my dad had even more work on his plate. I noticed certain changes going on. DCP would spend more time by the row of seats my family routinely sat in to talk with my dad. He would do this either during services or right after, and then more often than not, my dad would be whisked away to endure hours-long meetings with DCP and the other men.
My fear and anxiety in RCG grew even worse as I got older. There was one instance in which I thought to myself, "What if I'm not actually in the True Church? What if there is not just one 'True Church?'" Immediately after I thought about it, however, an overwhelming sense of fear and disappointment washed over me. How could I ever question RCG? How could I ever question whether or not DCP was the prophet who God was speaking through? I remember feeling sick to my stomach and terrified for the rest of the day. Making even the smallest of errors made me constantly wonder if I had just lost my spot in the Millennium. To this day, I am horrified by the amount of fear I grew up in.
Some may be surprised at the amount of fear I felt growing up, even though I was not baptized. I understood that baptism was the ultimate factor of whether or not a person was truly "called" and would get to experience God's Kingdom. Being a high-ranking minister's daughter, I always knew when I was younger, I would have to be a baptized member eventually. The fear evolved from not knowing if I was growing enough as an "Ambassador Youth."
Oddly enough, I never was aware of the amount of fear that my other friends had in RCG. It was never something we discussed out loud.
One of the most vivid, traumatic moments I recall being in The Restored Church of God occurred in the fall of 2016.
This was the year that DCP stated that people were no longer allowed to see their extended families if they were not a part of RCG. (He later changed his stance on this matter, as he does.) I recall my mom's tears because she was not allowed to see her parents that year. She still sometimes gets teary about it to this day. If you've ever seen your parents cry before, you know it is one of the hardest things to see, especially as a kid. It scared me to death.
That Thanksgiving, my parents met my grandparents in a restaurant parking lot and dropped my siblings and me off to spend the holiday with them. I remember the disappointment on everyone's faces. I recall that being one of the saddest days of my childhood. What had happened to the family values instilled in the Bible?
I still firmly believed, though, that RCG was the place to be. This was to be expected as a kid who had known nothing else.
My family and I remained in RCG for almost two years after Thanksgiving of 2016.
In May 2017, we sold our neighborhood home in Wadsworth and moved onto the RCG “World Headquarters Campus” across from Giant Eagle. I was employed on the Buildings and Grounds crew the same month to work in landscaping.
While I have some very fond memories of my first job, I do remember how much anxiety it gave me while working there. I had never been taught how to edge or properly water plants. At least the way that was deemed "proper" by the men who ran the landscaping department. It seemed as if some people expected me to do things well in the beginning, even though I had no training or background in the field of caring for plants. I knew nothing about landscaping. I also felt immense pressure to do everything right because of who my parents were. Making mistakes terrified me.
One of the strange things about living on Campus included not being able to leave the garage door open, specifically for those who lived on the same cul-de-sac as David C. Pack on North Eagle Point. Everything had to be "just so" for the man who ran it all. Even to the tiniest of details, it seemed.
While there, my little brother got in trouble for waving improperly in greeting David C. Pack. He apparently was flying down a hill on his bicycle and did a two-finger wave-type thing. How awful! The apostle was disrespected by a 12-year-old.
In the summer of 2018, I was driving around in a golf cart on the compound with my dad. While we were making our way around Campus, he told me that his health was deteriorating and that my siblings and I needed to step up more and help my mom in any way we could. At the time, he spoke like he wouldn't be around for much longer. I remember being in tears the entire way home and crying while mentioning this to my best friend at work the next day. Somehow this didn't perturb me enough to see the toxicity that was the environment we lived in daily.
My experience living on Campus was, in most respects, worse for me than living in my old neighborhood. This was due to the fact that my dad spent less and less time with his family, and both of my parents appeared increasingly stressed out with each passing month we lived there. Also, during this time, relationships between my family and our extended family became even more awkward, as they saw RCG more for what it truly was and not how I wanted to see the organization at the time.
The Feast of Tabernacles in 2018 rolled around, and my family attended in Florida and then Idaho. Some ministers had to routinely travel to multiple Feast sites each year, and my dad was one of them. I noticed my parents growing increasingly unhappy and exasperated during the week. I remember seeing notes along the lines of, "What the heck?" and "What is he talking about now?" written to my dad in the margins of my mom's notebook. She tried to hide them from me, but I noticed anyway. However, this didn't unsettle me because I didn't understand what was being taught as fact anymore. Even one of my best friends commented while we were at work one day, "Yeah, I have no idea what's going on at this point."
On October 21, 2018, my dad sent in his resignation letter. That day was just a regular Sunday on the compound for me. My friends had even spent most of the day at my house. It was as if nothing had changed.
The next day, Monday, October 22, my parents sat me down and explained that my dad had resigned as a minister and a member. I was heartbroken at the time. Nothing could have prepared me for the news, even though I should have seen it coming.
During those first few weeks after leaving, a lot of people cut me off, and it really hurt. These people I had known practically my whole life wouldn't talk to me anymore. It felt like a betrayal. I had thought I was a friend to them. However, some people kept in contact with me, and I'm incredibly grateful they did. They kept me afloat in a time when I felt like I was drowning. I want to say that the whole ordeal was made more difficult because RCG was the only thing I knew at this point. It was my entire life. I had been born into the organization and home-schooled until my junior year of high school, so I was incredibly sheltered. The church had been practically everything to me.
The following week consisted of packing up my things and moving to apartments just a few minutes away. I left the many people that I loved and still care deeply about to this day. Only a few individuals took the chance to say their goodbyes to my family and me.
The next six months consisted of figuring out who I was on the other side of the gates and leaving behind the identity crisis that I went through fairly soon after leaving. I was now free to be whoever I wanted to be without other people's expectations. To this day, I am still figuring out who I want to be. Also, during this time, I was able to strengthen family bonds and reconnect with ex-members. I found comfort in being able to talk with them and share stories.
My hope is that by sharing my story, I can help others understand that they are not alone in what they are going through. My experience was different from most because while I was an employee of the RCG, I was never a baptized member. I only saw things from a child's perspective. I also happened to be the eldest child of an evangelist.
Throughout the fifteen years I attended RCG, my naïve eyes saw the good outweighing the bad. Looking back, I just thought that living in that constant state of dread and fear was normal. I had never known anything else. While I saw some flaws, of course, I never got a deep, inside look, which I'm grateful I will never have.
I could write more about the stories I've lived through and heard about since then from loved ones or friends, but they are not my stories to tell. I am only speaking from my perspective and sharing what I know. I could share so much more about how the first fifteen years of my life impacted me and all of the indoctrination I have had to let go of in the four years I've been gone. The healing process continues even to this day.
Recently, I’ve thought about what I would like to say to David C. Pack if I had the opportunity. If I could help him see his wrongdoings, I would tell him about how much confusion, hurt, and deception he has caused and put into people’s lives. How is causing grief to others being a representative for Christ? He’s affected multiple generations of people and can’t seem to stop. One day I hope he’ll see the errors in his ways.
The years since I left have been some of the most rewarding and challenging years of my life. I've learned so much since that day in 2018 and I wouldn't be who I am without the experience, which positively changed my life in so many ways.
I would like to take the time to express my appreciation and gratitude towards my parents for having the courage to leave for their own sake, but also for the sake of their childrens’ future.
To everyone going through this currently, give yourself grace and time. It is a bumpy road to travel. However, you will find your way. I'm slowly but surely finding mine.
I hope that by putting my thoughts out there, I can let people know they are not alone. Life on the outside is far better than being trapped in a place that calls itself the “One True Church.” Freedom feels so dang good.
