I woke up this morning with deep gratitude in my heart. I’m thankful for my church experience—past and present. I was once part of a well-known, high-energy church. And while I do believe that the people there truly loved God—and I know I did too—I realize now that love alone doesn’t exempt us from dysfunction.
You can love God and still be toxic. You can be sincere in your faith but misguided in your relationships, in your leadership, in your culture. Looking back, I see how much of what I thought was spiritual depth was actually hype, culture, and identity wrapped in familiarity. Without constant surrender to God, without daily submission to the cross, we can find ourselves preaching the opposite of what we believe we’re preaching.
I didn’t know it then, but I was anxious every Sunday. Church had become something I feared, yet it was so familiar that I no longer noticed the tension in my body. I went because it was what I did. But it wasn’t life-giving anymore.
Today, that’s changed. Now I go to church in freedom. I go to connect with Christ, not out of obligation or fear. I don’t feel burdened by the idea of “being present.” And I’m so thankful for that.
I realize now that what kept me tethered to the house of God—even through dysfunction—was the love of God. He never let me go. Even in an imperfect institution, He was growing me. But if I’m honest, my loyalty nearly cost me everything. I remember clearly the night God said to me, “I’m taking you out.” And I know now—had He not spoken so directly—I might have spiritually died there.
It didn’t have to get that far. But I had stopped listening. I had started trusting the system more than the Spirit. And God, in His mercy, intervened.
Fast forward to today—I’m so happy. I’m so free. I’m deeply connected to Christ. I’m devoted to what He has called me to, not just to a church brand or tradition. I hold this current church with open hands. If ever He calls me elsewhere, I’ll go. My identity is in Him, not in an institution.
I’m no longer under pressure to perform. I don’t overcommit. I work full-time and I understand now that my work is also ministry. I won’t let anyone guilt me into running on empty in the name of service. I’ve learned to say no with peace.
There was a time when church felt like nonstop activity. Back-to-back conferences, revivals, events. I remember Easters that started Thursday night and went nonstop until Sunday—and by Sunday, we weren’t revived. We were exhausted. There was never time to be still, to sit with myself, to hear God in the quiet.
Now, I enjoy my own company. I’ve learned to sit with the good and the ugly in me and trust that I’m on a journey of growth. And I see now how easy it is to love God, love church, and still miss love itself. It’s possible to be sincere and still operate like an exclusive club. It’s possible to preach grace and still live legalism.
But today, I’m not perfect. My church isn’t perfect. And that’s okay.
I’m just grateful. Grateful for freedom. Grateful for growth. Grateful that I still love the Church and have found life in it again.
Thank you, Jesus.
Wells of Wonder 