Have you ever felt like a church refugee?

I'm not talking about just getting your feelings hurt because someone forgot to save you a seat or the worship leader picked a song you don't like. I'm talking about real injury—emotional, spiritual, psychological wounds that came from the very place that was supposed to be safe.

Church hurt is more painful than disappointment at work or betrayal by an acquaintance. When it happens in church, it cuts deeper because church is supposed to be like family. It's supposed to be the safe place. And when family wounds you, it's grievous in a way that other hurts aren't.

Gregory and I both have a history of being church refugees. When I first came to know the Lord back in 2000, I was on fire for the church. I lived at church. I loved every minute of it. I knew I was called to the church. And Gregory? He didn't just show up when the doors were open. When Gregory got born again, he literally moved into the church. For years, he was like Anna in the temple—always there, always serving, always available.

When you love something so much that you're willing to lay your life down for it, when it comes back to bite you, it is incredibly painful.

The Betrayal That Changed Everything

Not only had we experienced church hurt before we got together, but even after we were married, we ended up being church refugees again. And it got to the place where I literally was anti-church—not the heart of the church, but anti-institutional established churches. I didn't want to go back.

Here's what happened: I left being on staff at one church to volunteer at a church up north where Gregory was an elder. We gave it everything. I gave up my income, gave up my benefits, and gladly volunteered. We served for free because we believed in the mission.

After a while, we'd run through our savings and run up the credit cards. It was time to figure something out. So I thought, I can do my teaching series—the same one that's now "Unleashing the Kingdom"—and we could generate some income for ourselves. The leadership gladly agreed.

But then something shifted. The series actually started making money. And suddenly, they wanted a piece of the action.

When I needed to make a draw on my account just to pay my mortgage, they said, "Well, we never made a business arrangement." This was my life's work. My calling. And they wanted to negotiate.

The leader suggested 50-50. I couldn't agree to that, but I told her I would submit to whatever she decided. When it was all said and done, they took over half and wanted to buy cameras and equipment to get it TV-oriented. They had the money. They had the training. And I knew I would be prostituting the message.

I had to walk away.

If I could not trust them with money, how could I trust them with my heart?

The Deeper Wound

That's just one of many stories I could tell you about being in churches where people worship the pastors, where leaders live in million-dollar houses while the people serving them can't make ends meet. Don't get me wrong—there's nothing wrong with being blessed. I want to be stupid rich. But I don't want to do it at someone else's expense. There's nothing wrong with prosperity. It's just wrong when you're doing it in an unhealthy way.

After that last church situation, I told Gregory that if the next one didn't work out, I was 100% done. And guess what? That one didn't work out either. It didn't work out because there was junk in the atmosphere. There wasn't integrity in the leadership. They were being political—telling one person one thing, telling somebody else the exact opposite, just because they wanted to tell you what they thought you wanted to hear.

I was willing to lay my life down for the church. I love her. But not for that. That's the wrong kingdom.

The Real Crisis

Church hurt has become a pandemic in the body of Christ. I'm telling you, people have been abused in church. And it's not getting better—it's getting worse.

Have you ever felt exploited because you love to serve and you love to give, but after a while it feels like it's only one way?

Have you been rejected because you shined a little too brightly and maybe the leaders were jealous or afraid of you getting a following? So you were always pushed down—not because you wanted to be the grand poobah, but because over the years you realized nobody's being released in this house because the leaders walk in fear.

Have you ever been controlled or manipulated by a leader who felt it was their spiritual responsibility to make you do their will? And if you didn't, you were operating in the wrong kingdom—when really, they were the ones who were deceived.

Have you ever been bitten or betrayed by fellow believers? Maybe somebody was always competing with you, jealous or envious. Or maybe—and this is hard to admit—maybe you were biting others.

If so, guess what? You've experienced church hurt. And I'm not talking about just getting your feelings hurt. I'm talking about emotional, spiritual, psychological injury.

Most of us have encountered that if we've been believers for any length of time.

Why This Matters

Spiritual abuse and religious trauma is so bad in our country right now that the church is in critical care. The next generation isn't just trying to walk away from institutional church the way I tried to walk away from it.

They're walking away from God.

Because the church represents Him to them. And they don't want any part of a show where there's not love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. All they're seeing is the devil putting on a steeple.

We have to understand that the church needs us to be a different prototype. We're the ones who have to set the new trajectory, the new paradigm.

And we can do it.

The Path Forward

Church hurt shouldn't exist. Gregory hates that term with a passion. Number one, it shouldn't exist. But number two, he doesn't want us cursing the church or prophesying that whenever you go to church, you just expect to be hurt.

People are people. We can't walk in expecting to never get our feelings hurt, because we're around humans. But if we walk in with our guard up all the time, if we have to have our walls up, we will never actually usher in the right Kingdom because we're all hiding behind masks.

It has to be a safe environment. And it's up to us to create that.

So rather than changing the term "church hurt," let's just cure it. Let's get it out of our environment and eradicate it from our family once and for all.

Because here's the truth: hurt people hurt people. But healed people heal people.

The healing is just as contagious as the harm. More so. In the Old Testament, you couldn't touch the leper or you'd get leprosy. But in the New Testament, when you touch the leper, they catch your healing.

It's a different Kingdom.

And it starts with us getting healed first.

Blessings,
Susan 😊

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The Seven-Fold Recompense