I was hurt in the very place that was meant to be a sanctuary

Five years ago, I left a church that had been my home for eleven years and my place of work for eight of those years. I left disillusioned, betrayed, burnt out and hurt beyond belief. My father told me more recently that when he collected me from the airport, I was a complete shell and he was worried I would never come back from what happened. But I did. 

I pray that no one ever has to experience what I went through but, if you have, know that there is a way back, and I’ll share some of the how in a moment. But first it’s important to acknowledge where I came from to show you how I got to where I am now. 

As my experience was sustained abuse over years it’s sometimes hard to know where to start. I realise now that I was made to question the validity of my own voice, and when I spoke up for myself was told I needed to humble myself and do what was needed to keep the church leaders happy. Their behaviour was never questioned. There were times when I would be ignored for months at a time by one leader (also my boss) without explanation; one day I was in, the next I was out – then suddenly I would be back in again. 

At the time I would not have been able to put language to my experience, but with some distance and guidance of a counsellor I have found words to describe what happened. In short, I experienced emotional, psychological and spiritual abuse. These are labels I would never have thought I would give to what seemed like such a special place, where I was giving my all for God and for the church. Do I believe this abuse was intentional? No. I believe it was given by people who lacked accountability and didn’t really know what they were doing. Am I excusing their behaviour? Absolutely not! But I don’t believe they knew the damage they were causing.

You might wonder how someone who is a counsellor would allow such behaviour. I’ve wondered that too. I remember feeling certain things weren’t right but I didn’t raise any alarms as when I first tried to, I was silenced with: “It’s not honouring to do that”, which in the environment I worked in was the absolute cardinal sin. It’s a subtle form of spiritual abuse but a very effective one. 

So how do we go about returning from such a place of hurt? And how do we help friends who may have had shocking experiences within the Church? I don’t profess to be an expert, but here are some things that have helped me and others.

Get some distance

It’s very difficult to heal in the place that hurt you, so give yourself permission to leave – and move if you need to. For me this was forced through a failed visa, so I got to move a whole ocean away, which was hard but actually very helpful in the long run.

Engage in fun with friends

Prioritise time with friends you trust. I returned to my oldest friends; ones I didn’t need to keep any pretence up with, so I could just be. That was so helpful. And we jam packed my first few months with fun things to look forward to. Fun essentially helps you to come up for air when pain is trying to pull you under. 

Separate God from church

This was something I did very early on and it helped me massively. I reminded myself over and over that it was people who had hurt me, not God. I also went to visit some old mentors who I knew were good people and they gave me wisdom on my experience. They showed me that I was experiencing an institution protecting itself; I was bearing the brunt and paying the price. But ultimately true justice would lie in my rebuilding and God would restore me, if I let him.

Practise forgiveness

I’m not going to lie, there were days, maybe weeks sometimes, when I felt completely abandoned by God, which has been really painful. I found it hard to read the Bible or go to church. But I could listen to podcasts. I remember listening to Lysa Terkeurst being interviewed about her book Forgiving What you Can’t Forget (Thomas Nelson) – which I highly recommend. In the book she talks about there being two stages of forgiveness: forgiving the offence – this can happen quickly and is a one-time thing – and forgiving the impact – this can happen over and over again and can take many years. Every time a new thing happens that is the direct result of the offence, you have found an impact. I’ve learned that forgiveness is something you arrive at, not somewhere you start. In a way it’s similar to the kingdom being now and not yet. Forgiveness can be in the now, and also not yet complete. The arrival at forgiveness is when it’s complete and genuine. 

Give yourself time to say goodbye

We can feel pressure to get over what happened to us as quickly as possible. Pain is messy, and our western churches don’t really like mess, so we’ve learned we need to bounce back fast. This is wrong. There is a deep mourning that needs to happen; we have to let go of the idea of who we wanted, someone or a group, to be to us and for us, and face the reality of who they were or became. You need to let yourself grieve what happened and embrace every beautiful stage of grief. All the shock, all the denial, all the bargaining, all the anger – yes anger – and all the acceptance. I like to call grief the long goodbye; you take as long as you need. 

Something that really helped me was writing letters to the people who hurt me the most, to essentially say goodbye. I highly recommend doing this. Once complete, I would seal your letter/s and find a way that works for you to ‘send them’ and let go – whether putting them through a paper shredder, burning them or mailing them to a trusted friend who will dispose of them for you. There is a release in sending the words away from you.

Allow yourself to address your anger

I mentioned this in the previous point, but feel it needs a little extra attention. Anger is an emotion that as Christians and maybe as Brits we’ve been taught should be avoided at all costs. However, facing and releasing your anger is key to healing. I remember denying I was angry for a long time; I’d say I was sad instead, because that felt more acceptable. Deep down, anger can be fear trying to find a voice or some semblance of control. I had to acknowledge that I was not only angry with people who were meant to be friends and some who called themselves ‘family’ for behaving in such a way towards me – I was angry at God, too, for seemingly allowing it all to happen.  

It’s important to let anger find a way out of your body, and there are a few ways to do this: dance it out, shake it out, scream it out. Basically, your body needs physical movement to release what is trapped inside. 

Let people in – get help

I’m here to tell you that not all leaders are bad; there are good ones out there, I promise. I actively sought them out. Obviously I didn’t throw all my trust behind them right away, but I certainly looked for reasons to trust them. One big thing I looked for was whether they were accountable to anyone. Could they be questioned? Could they admit if they were wrong? I was looking for integrity, and I found it. Not perhaps in the spaces I might expect, but these leaders helped me come back to myself, little by little, prayer by prayer. I call these people leaders, because that’s what they have been to me. Some are the faithful older ladies sitting on the back pew with a listening ear and praying hands; perhaps you might call them friends.

My experience was pretty extreme, so I also found a clinical psychologist who helped massively. If you have had a similar experience, I would highly advise you do the same.

Remembering hope

The above is not an exhaustive list, but some of the ways I found my way back from the hurt. One key thing to remember is that you do the best you can with what you know and in hindsight things are often much clearer. Our best evolves over time and can change from day to day, so be gentle with yourself and know there is hope for different, hope for better and this too shall pass.