Dear Christian,
Stop going to church.
No, wait — stay with me.
A friend of mine recently stepped away from her church. She wasn’t being dramatic. She wasn’t weak. She was hurt, and she needed space to breathe before she could go back. That’s not a crisis of faith. That’s just being human.
While I was looking for something to send her — something encouraging, something that said I see you — I found this quote instead:
“If being hurt by the church causes you to lose faith in God, then your faith was in people, not God.”
It was everywhere. Flowery fonts. Pastel backgrounds. Shared by pastors. Printed on things.
And I just stared at it.
There are two terms I need you to sit with for a second.
Gaslighting: manipulating someone into questioning their own perception of reality.
Victim blaming: holding the person who was harmed responsible for the harm done to them.
I already hear some of you: “It’s not wrong, though. We should put our faith in God, not people.”
And technically? Fine. Sure. The heart of the message might be trying to point people back to God.
But here’s what that message actually says to someone who is already hurting, already vulnerable, already halfway out the door:
Your faith wasn’t strong enough. You didn’t really belong here anyway.
That’s not theology. That’s a church protecting itself from accountability.
The Church is supposed to reflect Christ. And if your response to someone you hurt is well, if you leave, that’s a you problem — you are not doing that. That’s on the Church body. Not on the person who stopped showing up to your gatherings.
God created us as relational beings. He wants us in community. But community requires safety. It requires investment. It requires the kind of love that goes looking for the one sheep instead of posting a sign that says the sheep should have trusted the shepherd more.
Imagine what it would look like if we actually did that. If we stopped being self-protective long enough to ask: what hurt them? How did we fail? What do we do differently? In a world that is aggressively, exhaustingly self-focused — a church that genuinely invested in people, that sat with them in their pain instead of explaining it away — that could be a revolution.
Instead, we make the pretty signs.
If you’ve been hurt by the church — I’m sorry.
Not a qualified sorry. Not a sorry you felt that way sorry. I’m sorry. We were supposed to be your people. We were supposed to be safe. We failed you, and you deserved better.
I hope someday we can earn that back. I hope you find a community that takes you exactly as you are right now, no disclaimers attached. I’m praying for your restoration — with the Church, with the people who hurt you, and most importantly, with God. Don’t let us take that from you.
Jesus loves you.
And so do I.
Humbly,
Ashley
Dear Christian, 