Craving Connection During Deconstruction

For the first four decades of my life, church was my world. It provided human connection and made me feel like I was a part of something bigger than myself. Church was where my children developed friendships with peers and connections with adults who claimed to love them. I truly believed that the church was made up of imperfect but goodhearted people who would be there for you and love you no matter what. The church was supposed to be the hands and feet of Jesus, living out the first part of Isaiah 61 that Jesus read in the synagogue.

The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me
to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free the oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Luke 4:18–19, CSB

The church was supposed to represent light in our dark world and healing for the brokenhearted. It was supposed to be so many things that I found out all too quickly it was not.

When my world was falling apart, instead of finding hope and family within the church walls, I found abuse, exploitation, victim-blaming, and abandonment. Rather than finding healing, my pain and vulnerability were used against me, and my brokenness was replaced with an irreparable shattering.

Some of the most difficult beliefs I have had to deconstruct in recent years are the beliefs that pastors are good, churches are safe, and people who make up the church are loving. I have come to understand…