I grew up in the church—first in my grandmother's church, where she was a preacher. Then when she retired, she would take me to the nursing home every Sunday morning, where we would put on a church service in the dining hall before heading off to a later church service. The church was a place of peace and splendor for me. I was in awe of who God was and what He could do, and I believed the church was where His presence dwelled. I remember walking up and down the aisles of the sanctuary as a child, praying and asking God to let me be part of His move—to use me for His glory.

When I was 12 years old, I experienced my first "church hurt." I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but it changed everything for me. The pastor had made a comment during a Sunday morning service. To this day, I couldn’t even tell you what it was—but I do remember my parents telling me that we would be leaving that church. The place where I had worshipped, where I had felt at home, was suddenly gone. I was devastated. But even more devastating was the silence that followed. The friends I had made, the pastors I had admired—I felt like I had become a stranger overnight. No one reached out. No one checked in.

We started attending another church, and as a 12-year-old, I could only describe it as a snoozefest. It didn’t interest me at all. I shut down the possibility of connecting with God in that place. I was bitter, I was hurt, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had developed what I call a "God-grudge"—a lingering resentment toward God because of the hurt I had experienced through His people.

It wasn’t until I was 15 that I even cared about seeking after God again. I was invited to a youth group and decided to go. Immediately, I found community, and through that connection, I found God again in my life. The call on my heart for ministry became undeniable, and I believed I was ready for any storm that came my way. But about a year later, my youth pastor was fired from his position, and I found myself in a deeply vulnerable place. Although this isn't the place to get into those details, I will say as a 16-year-old girl, I needed my church leadership to stand up for me and protect me. They failed, and I felt abandoned—by my leaders, by my church, and by God Himself.

That wound left a scar so deep that it was years before I even spoke to God again. And even though I’ve continued to experience church hurt—having worked in ministry, served in churches, and navigated the challenges of being a female minister—I have finally learned an incredibly important lesson: God is so incredibly good, and all people need grace.

I now understand this more than ever, having been on the other side. I have been in ministry, and I have been the cause of church hurt. It was never intentional—sometimes, it was collateral damage. But as a minister, my desire has always been to point people to God, even though I myself am deeply flawed. Believers, leaders, ministers—we do not always express ourselves righteously no matter how hard we try, and at times, we have and will hurt those around us. Can I just say that I'm sorry? For those of you who have felt hurt by me personally, I'm so sorry. For those of you who have felt victimized by believers or feel unloved by God because of His people, I'm so sorry. For those of you who will never receive an apology from the church leader who owes it to you, will you accept my apology? 

I am not here to minimize your experience. I have seen more of my fair share of poor decisions made by church leaders, but what I'm here to tell you is that the flawed nature of God's people is part of what makes God so good. Even at our worst, He saves us, He lifts us up, He rescues us. Then He begins to mold us and refine us, but that is a process that takes the rest of our lives this side of heaven. We will keep failing, but we serve a God who never fails, and once we shift our focus on Him, we find ourselves more prone to forgive His children because He forgave us, first.

Here are some reminders to help you keep your faith WHEN (not if) His people fail you.

1. Acknowledge the Pain, But Don’t Let It Define Your Faith

When I experienced church hurt, I didn't just feel disappointed—I felt shattered. The people I trusted most in my faith journey had let me down, and I couldn't reconcile how the same place that once felt like home could also be the source of such deep wounds. I ran from it all—God, church, community. But over time, I realized that avoiding the pain didn’t make it disappear. It only gave bitterness room to grow as my life turned into something unrecognizable. Acknowledging the pain was the hardest but most necessary step. I had to grieve, I had to process, and God had to gently remind me over and over that while people fail, He never does.

2. Separate God from People

Separating God from people is one of the hardest yet most freeing lessons I’ve learned. The church is meant to be a reflection of Christ, but the reality is, we are all flawed people trying our best—and sometimes failing miserably. There have been moments where I cried out to God, asking, How can You let Your people act this way? The silence that followed was painful, but over time, I realized something crucial: God’s character is not defined by human failure. He is still holy, still good, and still just, even when His people fall short. If our faith is built on people, it will crumble when they disappoint us. But if it is built on God, it will remain firm—unshaken by the failures of man. This is easier said than done, but once we separate the actions of people from the nature of God, we find freedom. We find that He is still worthy of our trust, our worship, and our love, even when His people let us down.

3. When You’ve Been Hurt, Take Time to Heal

When you’ve been hurt, take time to heal by seeking after God. Maybe you do need to step away from the environment, maybe you need to step away from certain individuals—but whatever you do, don’t step away from Him. Run to Him like never before. Step into the throne room, pour out your heart, and let Him hold you through the pain. Healing doesn’t happen by ignoring the wounds or pretending they don’t exist; it happens when we surrender them to God. Lay it all at His feet—the anger, the confusion, the sorrow—and ask Him to fill the broken spaces with His love. Forgiveness may seem impossible at first, but if you seek Him, He will help you forgive those who have hurt you. And in that forgiveness, true healing begins. If we try to heal in our own strength, we will only build walls around our hearts, keeping out not just the pain, but also the love that God wants to pour into us. But when we turn to Him, He will soften us, mend us, and restore us in ways we never imagined.

4. The Enemy Uses Church Hurt as a Weapon

The devil is the orchestrator of church hurt, and he loves to use it as a weapon. It’s one of his favorites because it plants the lie that God Himself has hurt us. He knows that if he can convince us to equate the failures of people with the character of God, he can drive a wedge between us and our faith. When we allow church hurt to derail us, to push us away from God, we are playing right into the hands of the enemy.

The enemy wants nothing more than for us to become bitter, to walk away, and to believe that we are better off without God’s people. But when we recognize that the true enemy isn’t the church, but the one who seeks to divide, we can fight back. We fight back by staying rooted in truth, by seeking after God even when we don’t understand, and by refusing to let the failures of man dictate our relationship with the Lord.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve been hurt by the church, I see you. I know the weight of that pain, the sting of betrayal, and the deep wounds that don’t seem to heal overnight. It’s not just about the disappointment in people—it’s about the confusion it creates in your relationship with God. When those who were meant to represent Him fall short, it can leave you questioning everything.

But even in the midst of that hurt, I need you to know something: God is still good. His love is still real. His presence has not abandoned you, even when it may feel like it. People may have failed you, but He never has, and He never will.

Healing from church hurt doesn’t happen instantly, and it certainly doesn’t happen by ignoring the pain. It’s a journey—one that requires grace, patience, and a willingness to trust God through the process. Take it one step at a time. Some days will feel heavier than others, but every step you take toward healing is a step toward freedom.

You don’t have to walk this road alone. God is with you, always. And if you need someone to pray with you, to listen, or to simply remind you that you’re not alone—I’m here.

My hope and prayer for you is that church hurt will not be the thing that drives you away from God, but instead, it will be the thing that draws you even closer to Him. That through the pain, you will see His goodness more clearly than ever before. That as you heal, you will begin to extend the same grace to others that God so freely extends to us.

You are deeply loved. You are seen. You are not forgotten. And no matter what, God is still writing your story—one filled with redemption, healing, and a love that never fails.