Hurt…Again

When we found our new church in 2016, I thought the hard part was over. I was hopeful—maybe even a little naive. I wanted this to be the place where healing turned into belonging. But healing isn’t always linear, and community can be both beautiful and complicated.

A New Church, A New Hope

I can still remember the warmth of that first Sunday. There were smiles and warm hugs. It felt like we’d finally found a place to belong. We were sure this church would be different. But belonging can be fragile. Sometimes trust can break your heart.

It was a church focused on children, which is exactly what our family needed. There was also a deep history of faith and stories of God’s provision. It felt like home. We joined and began serving here and there as our schedule allowed.

Health Issues and a Pandemic

In 2018—two years after joining—I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). Being in a faith rich church definitely helped me during that time. I started treatment right away, but some of the early medications were rough. One treatment even sent me to the ER.

After that ER trip, I found a new neurologist who listened to me. In 2020, I opted for a low-dose chemo medication, which was immune suppressing. Then the pandemic hit.

We shifted to online services, and I attended faithfully.

In 2021, I started a second round of treatment, still on the same medication. Because the virus was still active, my doctor advised me not to attend social gatherings. I couldn’t even be in person for my older brother’s funeral in 2021. Thankfully a cousin live streamed it for me. Anyway, we let the church know that we’d be continuing online for health reasons. They confirmed receipt of our message.

Cut Off

Then, one day, out of nowhere, I lost access to the Bible Study group. Access to the in-house social media platform was gone too. It happened without warning. I was floored. I reached out to the associate pastor’s wife, whom I’d texted earlier that day while watching service. She’d replied before, but now? Silence.

I emailed the church, asking what happened. The response (in short): “Because you’re not attending and not giving.”

I reminded them of my medical situation. I explained my ongoing online participation. I even asked if my automatic giving had failed. No reply—for days, maybe a week.

We faced silence, so my husband sent an email. He requested a letter of release, enabling us to “pull up stakes” there and find a new church home. He mentioned that we felt “excommunicated without explanation.”

The associate pastor finally called. He said they hadn’t responded sooner because of a weekend event. What stuck with me was this: he said our email’s words—“pull up stakes” and “excommunicated”—were too harsh. Because of that, “there was no coming back from it.”

BLANK STARE.

You blocked access to the Bible Study and community page.
You didn’t call to check on me—even knowing my health issues.
You didn’t ask if I was okay or if I needed anything.

Did you really think we’d be coming back after that?

When Silence Speaks

The people who once said they loved me, who called, visited, and prayed with me—all went silent. I thought one person was becoming a real friend. They stopped responding altogether after they found out I no longer attended the church. The pastor often preached about not staying connected to those who left the church, so I half expected it. But I also hoped my friend was different. I guess not.

At work recently, our company launched a campaign called “The Power of All.” It made me groan the first time I heard it. It was a slogan that was used at this church but not practiced. How powerful would the true body of Christ be if we lived that out? We should care for one another beyond just attendance and tithes.

That was such an awful experience.

Looking back now, I realize how much it changed the way I view church, and how I trust church people. But it did not change my faith. If anything, it deepened my resolve that my faith should rest in God alone.

To be continued…

If anything in my story resonated with you, I’d love to continue the conversation in a safe and respectful space. I host a small community on Discord. We can share experiences, ask questions, and encourage each other in our faith journeys. You’re welcome to join here:

• Discord