Overcoming Church Hurt

What do you do or how do you feel when the place you ran to for healing begins to hurt you, begins to remove your bandages prematurely? ‪#‎OvercomingChurchHurt

For the longest while I have been prompted by the Holy Spirit to “write where you are” and for the longest while I have not written anything. I always have the urge to write but I never know what about. I always put it off thinking that an idea will come, but the Spirit of God keeps saying to me “write where you are”

It is kind of emotional because I have to figure out where I am in order to write it. A feeling has been on my heart for the longest while. Church hurt. I’ve heard about it and the last I expected was to experience it. The topic came about because I saw a previous blog about it and when I fell in the situation, I tried to find the blog but I couldn’t find it. So, where I am, I will write.

Church hurt. My definition is simply the people in church who will hurt you. Understand that the purest form of church is Christ Himself and He will in no wise hurt us. Yes, the situations He gives us the grace to endure will definitely hurt us, we are human so inevitably our perception will force us to believe that it is God who has hurt us but that is far from the case.

My biggest problem is perceiving that people in church are always godly, I place certain expectations on “church folk” and I expect from them a certain type and way of behaviour that when they don’t live up to the standards I placed on them in my mind; they have failed and they have hurt me. I specifically remembered one prayer I prayed in church “God, please remind us that we are the church and we merely attend a building to fellowship”

It was wrong of me to expect behaviours and standards from people just because they were in church or in a position of power within the church. I feel like that is a plan of the enemy to distract us from the true purpose of attending the church building, which is to fellowship with the saints of God.

Another thing is when you have expectations of other people it disqualifies them from needing grace, so as soon as they mess up we automatically don’t forgive them, allow them to heal and move on. People are not perfect and that is why we leave church hurt because we expect to behave supernaturally giving them no space to be human.

I’m not saying that their behaviour is acceptable or we should subject ourselves to be treated like dirt; I’m just saying that sometimes, most of the time the problem is our perception. That person who hurt you needs Jesus, forgiveness and salvation just as much as you do!

What if that person is acting from a place of hurt and their behaviour is just a cry for attention?

We should allow God to deal with our hearts, we should ask God to give us insight, maybe the person who hurt you is the only way they could get attention and they just want somebody to pray for them.

So how do you overcome church hurt?

The safest, most effective way is to run to God. Ultimately, He has all the answers.

That means that take all your problems, the way you feel, the person, the pastor and all the members of the church before God. Cry if you have to because the bible says He is touched by the feeling of our infirmities. He knows what it is to feel pain, to be scared, God knows and He has the power to do something about it. It makes no sense to sit on the phone and complain to other people who are powerless to fix the situation. God can fix it. So, run, run as fast as you can to His throne of grace. Maybe, just maybe you need a lesson in forgiving other people!

A Love Letter To Satan

You remind me of a Disney fairytale. 

You were a knight in armour but only your eyes were shining. Bright lights emitted from between your lips, it was your deceptive smile that lured my heart into a whirlwind of lust. I knew I could change you, rearrange your thoughts and make them submit to my bible, my gospel, my truth. I knew I had it in me, and when your hands touched mine my heart playfully bounced and confirmed what I knew in it to be true. I loved you. Your hand touching mine told my mind that you will forever be mine, souls intimately intertwined, disturbingly desirable, pathologically pleasing, appeasing the very DNA of my mind. I had you. Right you needed me to be but I was blinded to see that you had me, right where you needed me to be. 

In my mind you were. Mine. I looked past your infidelity and adultery because I chose to believe that if you possessed the pieces of my past you could grant me the wholeness that I so desperately pined for. You were my saviour, I worshipped you as such. I granted you access to the parts of me no one else could see, and even if they did see; wouldn't believe. Because I thought you would heal me. I made sure I was yours, consecrated myself to your thoughts, hopes, desires and plans, did everything you asked of me. Even committed suicide, I made sure I died so you live through me. 

I could call you my prince of peace because you seemed to take my broken pieces and give me piece. I was attracted to your chaos, it quietened mine. It granted me reason to believe that, maybe my brokenness isn't all that bad if you had all the symptoms I had. But you were just a mirror, a photocopier, showing all the things I am in a bid for me to stay comfortably where I am because then I would stay where you needed me. Broken. Only you showed the parts of me that made me look and see me, I thought I was falling in love with you, but it was me cause if I could love where I was; I'd have no real reason to leave? 

Right?

So I gave in to your relentless charm, that charged the gates of my heart like a red bull, you became my monster. But I felt the need to heal you, rid you of your ogre-like way and cleanse you of the gremlin within you, I saw what goblins you gave birth to but convinced myself they weren't of you. Just so that in my lovesick mind, I could be satisfied with the thought that you were as close to perfection as one could be. It was like a thousand angels gave you light, you constantly were pure in my eyes. You brought out the saviour in me but more than I needed you to be my saviour, I felt the need to save you.

But that's not the truth because fairytales aren't supposed to end badly, even when she ate the fruit, even when she lost her shoe, even when she encounters a beast, or has to kiss a frog, she still had her Prince Charming but you, your charm was beyond earthly royalty, it could be likened to no other, it felt so...... other worldly. Truth be told, I began feeling uncomfortable, it was like your truths became my lies, and even though I would often fall deep into your eyes I would miserably fail to realise that this was a trap. I was beyond mesmerised so I didn't bother to get up. 

I stayed and granted you permission to squash my soul like a roach that was a little bit too old and couldn't get away quick enough. I tried to scurry away from your lies but they wounded me strategically over the weeks, months and years so I couldn't get up. I stayed stuck. 

I recall my last days with you like a shimmer of a memory, you know like those ones in the movies? I knew it was over when the mention of your name did not provoke an involuntary response from behind my rib cage as it usually does. When the caller ID gently informed me that it was you and my palms didn't secrete. Goosebumps did not visit my skin when you turned up at my door. I knew it was over when the mention of your demise was the first time I genuinely smiled in my life. It was over and I knew it, I just needed to formulate a route that would eternally detach me from you. The taste you left on my lips was like a bad joke, no one seemed to get it or was laughing.

Once upon a time I had a mirror on my wall... It's brokenness never ceased to remind me of mine. But that's how you do, so here's to goodbyes! I would cry, weep and grovel stating how much I will miss you but you are a lie. A lie who constantly told me lies so that I almost nearly believed you ... Until love stepped in and showed me how not to submit to you, how to dry up my tears with worship instead of a sob song. Love showed me how to tell you goodbye. 

On my lips it tasted like angels flew down and kissed mine. Thirst departed as I sipped slowly from the cup that never seemed to run dry. 

I won't miss you but thank you for the lessons. I won't cry as I bid you farewell because your presence taught me how to war. Here is the good in goodbye where I'll never have to lie down to feel accepted or validated, the good where God can heal the wounds you created and I can be used to let the next girl know that you will sound like a good guy, but you are a lie.