I sat in the car, my hands still shaking and my heart pounding with excitement. I couldn’t believe I just faced a major fear of mine and couldn’t wait to do it again—something I never thought I’d feel after church hurt.
A year ago, at our old church, I thought about auditioning for the worship team many times. But ultimately, I did the “easier” thing and never went for it.
At the time, I called it fear. Looking back, it was my gut refusing to hand my soul to a room that hadn’t earned it.
But now? At our new church that nurtures such a welcoming, nonjudgmental space where I feel seen AND known? I felt comfortable enough to at least try.
It got me thinking about the aftermath of church hurt. The resistance to opening yourself up to try a new church.
We don’t bring our souls to a job. But we bring them to church and bare them for all to see.
We hand over our values, beliefs, the most exposed parts of ourselves on purpose. So, if harm comes, it doesn’t just hurt us. It also contaminates the exact thing we were brave enough to be open about.
Why Does Church Hurt Cut Deeper Than Other Pain?
Ordinary betrayals wound a relationship enough as it is. But church hurt wounds a relationship AND our sense of God, safety, and belonging in one fell swoop.
We go to church baring our souls, and if we end up getting hurt, it affects more than our relationships. It can change how we think about God and Christianity as a whole. The people who hurt us get tied in our minds to God Himself. So, the injury doesn’t stay in the human column. It leaks into the spiritual too.
And what’s worse is the vulnerability was sanctioned. We might’ve been told that openness here was safe, holy, and expected. That’s what makes a breach feel like a setup in hindsight.
“So, are you saying church is dangerous?”
I’m saying that the openness churches ask for is real openness. And with real openness comes the chance that it can be exploited.
Church hurt isn’t a new, 21st century problem either. It happened in biblical times too.
Psalm 55:12-14 describes the psalmist’s encounter with someone who wounds him. And it’s not an enemy but a companion he worshipped alongside. “We used to take sweet counsel together; within God’s house we walked in the throng”, it says.
This is literally church hurt in the Bible!
Was I Wrong to Wall Myself Off?
After experiencing church hurt, it’s natural to armor up afterwards. This isn’t faithlessness at all. It’s actually a body and soul doing exactly what it’s built to do after injury: protect the wound.
If you walled yourself off after being hurt in a church setting, you’re not being bitter, hard-hearted, or a bad Christian. You’re healing.
My family and I withdrew after leaving our church, and it helped a lot. It gave us time, safety, and distance from the source.
Our last service at our old church was a week before Christmas. We didn’t start our Grand Church Search until February. And some people wait even longer. Take as much time as you need to heal; there’s no deadline for reentering.
Proverbs 4:23 supports the waiting season, saying, “Guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” Note it says “guard”, not “seal off forever”. We’re allowed to take time to heal and protect ourselves.
When Does the Wall Stop Protecting You?
But sometimes, the wall we’ve built stops protecting us and turns into a trap. The wall that once kept the wound safe stops it from getting air. The same protective measure that kept pain out can start keeping healing, community, and God’s people out too.
Think of a garden protected against rabbits. It has a fence with a gate. A bunker has neither.
While we’re busy protecting ourselves, we can sometimes stop being reached at all.
And this isn’t to say the wall was wrong. It’s that walls are sometimes meant to be temporary structures, not permanent addresses.
After we had been at our new church for a few weeks, I felt comfortable enough to try a small group. I had never been in a small group before as our old church did something a bit different. I eventually joined a group and met some amazing women. After feeling them out for another few weeks, I felt truly seen and known enough to add in my personal prayer requests.
And I’m not here saying, “Just try harder to trust!”
Ezekiel 36:26 says God will remove our hearts of stone. He does the softening on His timeline. We’re not the ones forcing our hearts open by willpower.
How Do You Open Up Again After Church Hurt?
Re-entry isn’t amnesia.
We don’t have to act like church hurt didn’t happen to walk back in. We can carry the scar AND the door.
And there are two re-entries here.
The first is vertical, and the second is horizontal. Before we can trust a community again, we can re-open with God—the one who didn’t do the wounding. I’ve said before, it’s impossible to find a perfect church because there’s no such thing as a perfect human.
But there is one perfect being: God.
Church hurt is real and can damage how we relate to everyone, including God. But we need to make sure we realize that people who claim to speak for God can be the very ones distorting our picture of Him.
Think of re-entry as a series of small doors, not tearing the entire wall down. We can re-enter in increments. Back row before middle row. Watching before serving.
We don’t force the wall down. Instead, we find the place where we can take the door out slowly.
We had planned to keep our distance when we first went to our new church. But God had other plans when both pastors took the time to speak to us after the service and made plans to get lunch. At our old church, we were used to pastors we never saw outside of the sermon. So, to see both of the pastors out speaking with the community and making an effort to know people floored us.
I realized that it wasn’t that I finally got brave enough to audition for the worship team and face my fear of singing anywhere but my car. It was that I found somewhere where I felt safe enough.
And know this: NO ONE gets to set the clock on your re-entry. Not a pastor, not a well-meaning friend quoting verses, not guilt. Take your time to heal. You’ll know when it’s time to try again.
What Does God Do With Someone Who Comes Back?
I’ve heard people say things like, “God’s gonna ask where I’ve been when I finally go back to church!” but this couldn’t be further from the truth.
God doesn’t meet the returning with a lecture or probation period. He meets us with a meal and a job.
In John 21, Jesus appears to Peter after being raised from the dead. Before this, Peter had denied knowing Jesus three times. Instead of interrogating him, Jesus makes food for him and asks, “Do you love me?” three times. He then hands him a job (“feed my sheep”).
Restoration. Jesus didn’t make Peter “audition” to be a believer again.
God restores us right at the site of the wound, not by pretending the wound wasn’t there.
Peter had denied Jesus three times next to a “charcoal fire” (John 18:18). Guess what they cooked the fish over in John 21? A “charcoal fire”. Jesus restored Peter LITERALLY next to the same fire as the one he denied Jesus next to.
You Weren’t Built to Live Behind the Wall
I will never forget the day I randomly published my first ARMR Collective post. It wasn’t planned to go live yet, but I felt the calling and clicked “Publish” before I knew what was happening. And I was sitting in the cafe at our old church. This was almost a year before we left.
And God let me write this blog throughout it all.
He let me write it after we left, after we experienced trial after trial, after we found a new church, and now, He’s letting me have another role.
God wasn’t standing in the doorway, arms crossed and foot tapping asking, “And where have you been?”
He continues to meet me where I am and is letting me do more. I haven’t been restored to where I was; I am now entrusted with more.
I was standing up on the stage a few days ago, singing into a mic in front of actual people for the first time in my life thinking, “OMG I’M DOING IT.” And it’s not because I finally got brave enough. But because we found somewhere we could take the step.
I told my husband before the audition, “Even if they say, ‘No, you’re terrible’, I have nothing to lose, because I’m up there singing for God anyway.”
The wall I built after leaving our old church kept me safe for a season. But I wasn’t built to live behind it forever. And neither are you.
If you’re truly not ready yet, that’s okay too. You’re allowed to take time to heal.
I pray you’ll find something wonderful when you’re ready to walk through that first small door.
