How Do You Overcome And Heal From Church Hurt?

I tread lightly with this topic, writing each word with care, like holding a porcelain vase–easily broken if not handled carefully and tenderly. I write because I know men and women sit in church pews or at home feeling alone in their hurt. We all long to learn how to overcome and heal from church hurt, but very few know how.

Many challenges in life cause grief, but one that rarely gets talked about is church hurt, and yet it can cause the most long-term damage. 

Why is it quickly swept under the rug?

 

Why do we seldom talk about it? Why do we treat our own herd like disposable paper products? Maybe it’s honor for the people we serve, but perhaps it’s fear. Fear of the fallout. Fear of being misunderstood. Lately, I’ve felt the nudge from God to finally write on this topic because so many suffer in silence, thinking there is something wrong with them.

Allow me a moment to share a crucial point: the wounds inflicted within the walls of a church vary greatly. I must acknowledge that although I have faced my share of emotional turmoil, I have not been affected by the devastating effects of physical or sexual abuse at the hands of religious figures. I speak only from my personal encounters. My intention isn’t to prescribe a remedy but rather to extend hope.

Despite the anguish, know this: Pain does not have the final say.

No church hurt is alike, just as no grief journey is the same. 

 

It’s August. The children are at school, and I have the house to myself after spending the last eight years homeschooling them. The silence is golden. We’ve recently moved to a town an hour away from the place we’ve called home for the last four years.

Slowly, I lower myself into the hot bath water, allowing the water to wash over me and comfort my aching soul. The chain of events over the last few months has undone me.

The Lord speaks softly, “Take one year to rest and allow Me to heal you; no volunteer work outside the home.”

No matter how many tears I shed, they keep coming – a tangible expression of grief that demands release. I’ve invested my whole heart into a church, embracing everyone for the past four years. But now, I’m engulfed by a tide of hurt, frustration, and confusion. Memories flood my mind, each one a stark reminder of gaslighting tactics employed to intimidate and shame me. “Did you reveal confidential information?” “You were in the wrong…” “This only proves your lack of loyalty.” “Keep silent; don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.” Each accusation feels like a searing jab, piercing me like a hot poker.

 

I hadn’t expected to be hurt by the church. But here I am, having to choose how to respond. The Lord 

 

Something I soaked in deeply that year is how loved I am by an everlasting Father, and there’s nothing wrong with me. I am still called and set apart for a purpose. No man can change our destiny. 

I’m here to tell you there is nothing wrong with you, and all those emotions you feel are grief.

Grief for the loss of people you thought were friends.

Anguish over having your disclosing personal information in confidence and then having it shared widely.

Grief for the friendships falling apart, seeing people walk away, and turning a deaf ear.

Grief for the church community. When did we become so consumed with our own agenda that we’re willing to hurt anyone who gets in the way?

It is strange how trauma from a community you thought loved you for who you were, not for what you could offer, can live on in your bones. I’ve forgiven the hurtful words whispered behind my back and the encouraging texts and coffee dates that ended abruptly when I had nothing to offer, but the trauma of feeling so used lives on as I fear to join another church community. 

That trauma of being so easily replaced can bend how we see God and the world around us.

Terrible wrongs that happen behind closed doors in places where you should find freedom leave you bruised and tender, so when everyday encounters with a new community rub you the wrong way, you end up lashing out and bruising someone else.

I intellectually knew I needed to forgive, but realistically, it’s a long road.

If you’ve been let down, damaged, or dragged along by the people of Jesus, I’m sorry. You aren’t alone. Good news: Your church hurt can be healed while still holding onto your faith.

The moment you want to push away from God is the moment you should press in further. Friend, He loves you. The only way through the pain and hurt is to turn toward God and allow the grief to undo you so that He can remake you.

 

I’ve sat with this grief in prayer, in the Word, in therapy, and I’ve come to this: “The Lord will fight for you while you [only need to] keep silent and remain calm.”Exodus 14:14 AMP

There’s a fine line we walk because we don’t want these past wounds to inform us of our present moments. Don’t allow church hurt to hold you back from your life’s calling.

You can’t just slap a Band-Aid on a bleeding wound; it will begin to seep around it.

HOW DO YOU OVERCOME AND HEAL FROM CHURCH HURT?

How you heal is vital because some wounds weep for years if not properly tended to. When feelings don’t align with beliefs, you get caught. Feelings tell you it hurts, while beliefs say forgive and move on.

Just like the Israelites in Exodus standing on the edge of the Red Sea, you’re caught off guard by your circumstances. The Israelites’ first response was to call out to God; however, as soon as the words were released from their lips, they hurled complaints at Moses. We naturally assume the worst and lash out at the nearest target.

The Lord says to stop being afraid and stay silent because He will fight for you.

I pondered this as the week dragged on.

On the phone with a friend, my flesh wanted to rehash all the bad events again…to pick up the scab and make it bleed. 

I heard the Lord say, “Don’t pick the scab. Let it heal, or you will have a scar.”

When our hearts are still hurting in the middle of the mess, we need to stop the negative talk. When we have said all the words that need to be told, keep “silent and remain calm.” Allow the Lord to breathe His presence on your open wound, even if it hurts.

Most of us grew up ignoring our emotions.

Especially from church hurt. We somehow adopted the mindset that following Christ looked like skipping through a field of flowers with a smile on our faces, and if you felt any different, you must be out of God’s will. So, we are taught to rise above them.

Instead of being authentic and honest with each other, we put on a pretend smile and say things like, “God’s got this.”
I’m here to say it’s not only okay to feel; we must feel to heal.

Being angry and sad are human emotions, even felt by Jesus. So when pain and loss happen, allow yourself to grieve. Let go of the expectations to feel a certain way. What you’re walking through is complex, and the last thing you need to do is stuff your feelings, ignoring them as if that is more spiritual. The way to wholeness is to give words to your emotions. God created them. He loves us no more or no less because of them.

The only way to heal the body is to stop picking at the scab. Sometimes, the only way to heal the heart is to trust God with the hurt and begin to give words to your emotions. 

 

Prayer:

I surrender all my hurts and wounds to You, Father God, and ask You to release me and bring healing to all areas of my life. I choose today to stop complaining and allow You to work. I declare joy and freedom to be made whole.

If you need someone to talk to, I am offering free 30-minute calls as a grief coach. You can click here to contact me.