Church Hurt

I was five or six years old when my grandmother would call me into the living room to recite the Lord’s Prayer for her guests. I remember grandma lighting up and smiling into her friend’s faces after I recited the prayer perfectly. “She learned it in one day!” my grandmother would say. I’m not certain I learned the prayer in one day or not but that is my earliest memory of being a (little) person of faith and proud to be a Christian. I owe my Christian foundation to my grandmother who taught me early the importance of attending church and reading my bible to build my faith. I chuckle a little thinking about it because my Grandma did not play. If it was Sunday and I was in her care…I was going to church (all day). Period! Throughout my life, my faith has always been at the center. Church, bible study, televised sermons, faith-themed books, Christian events, I’m into it all. As a testament to my dedication to the Lord, I made it a point to always be an active member whether I was a volunteer in the nursery, youth ministry, women’s ministry, etc. It made me feel good to know that I was doing good for the Lord and my community. But the most rewarding part about being an active member of the church was the bond created with other members. That bond is special because of the common love shared for the Lord and at some point, becoming like family. Or do you? In this post, I will, unfortunately, share my experience with church hurt. A type of hurt I didn’t know existed until I experienced it first-hand. I’ll also share how I am working through the deeply rooted scars in an attempt to make my way back into the house of the Lord.

In 2007 I packed up my light blue 1998 Ford Explorer Sport (thanks mom!) and drove to Tampa to attend the University of South Florida for the second time (attended my freshman year of college). I was in my early 20s with the world at my feet. Life was good but something was missing. I quickly realized that I needed a church. One to call home. I asked around for recommendations and visited a couple of churches before finally finding one that felt right. Through several interactions with some of the members and eventually becoming friends with a few, I decided to join the church. I can remember being so happy because I didn’t know many people outside of a small group I met a few years earlier. So there I was on cloud nine. A new start, new apartment, new friends, new boyfriend (now husband) and a new church. I had it all. Almost immediately I became an active member joining two ministries. I knew it was important to be active and give back so I did as much as I could without overextending myself. Everything was going well. Little by little I was becoming more and more known as an active member in the church and found myself learning and growing with my new-found “family” as time went on.

I felt the shift. You know. That feeling you get in your spirit when things are different. No way to fully articulate it; just different. I think I was allowing my light to shine just a little too brightly or helping out a little too much putting the Shara touch on things. I never tried to overstep or overshadow what was already established at the church, I literally just wanted to help as much as I could. It’s who I am, I’m a helper and nurturer. Looking back, I think my efforts were looked upon as “doing too much.” The way I viewed it, we were all part of one body, the body of Christ, with different gifts to offer but ultimately using them towards the same goal which was to glorify God. Shortly after, the hellos soon turned into silence, I began getting the who-does-she-think-she-is looks, invitations to outside events ceased, and there was even a bit of attitude. This all would’ve been bearable if some of it hadn’t come from church leadership. Now I know that I was not attending church for the approval of people and my primary reason for going was to build my relationship with the Lord but it was also supposed to be about fellowship, cultivation of relationships with other members and vulnerability. I felt like I had it all and it all came tumbling down in a matter of months. At 24, away from my family, I felt ostracized from the one place I felt I should’ve been the safest and most accepted. I remember attending an event I helped to plan and being so excited to see everything materialize. I was placed on a specific duty, one that I was proud to have. It was my job to make sure that one of the leaders in the church was escorted to their seat when they arrived. I was overwhelmed with excitement because I’d held this person to such high regard. When they arrived, I was ready because, if you know me, you know I’d already rehearsed! I walked up and greeted them but something was off. It felt like I was having an out of body experience. All I can remember is one moment I was at the event and the next moment I was in my car on the phone with my mother crying trying to explain what happened. I explained to my mom that I was greeted with the worst attitude and was wildly embarrassed in front of a good amount of people. I don’t even think I fully escorted the person to their seat. I remember going back to my table and sitting there for about ten minutes. Then I heard a voice say, “Leave, do not cry in front of these people. Go home.” I excused myself and walked out. I couldn’t make sense of it and I will never forget it. I drove away from the church never to return.

I never joined another church again. I’ve attended different churches infrequently but decided I would not commit myself to another church in that way again. Now that I’m older I understand that as people we are all imperfect and we are all working on ourselves to become better people and I also know that situation happened to build my character. These days I mostly attend church online. I frequently listen to sermons on YouTube and several Christian podcasts. I feel safer approaching church in that manner. Church hurt is real hurt and can produce real pain. I don’t know, it’s just one of those things where the trauma from the past situation is still lingering and I don’t want to deal with anything like that again. I know that God can heal my mind and heart with this situation and I’m not saying I’ll be closed off to it indefinitely but I want to move at my own pace and go back when I feel ready.

God’s word is the same no matter where I study it but I am considering attending church for Bible study only, allowing myself to take things at a slow pace. I want to close this out by saying that the situation that took place years ago has made me very cautious about how I handle people with both my words and actions. I never want something I say or do to have a negative impact on someone’s life and so I do my best (even though it’s really very hard at times) to handle people with care.

With love,

Shara

“Do not copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.” Romans 12:2