Church hurt.
Learning to persist in hope - A Short Fiction Story
Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Kimberly forced her lips into a small, tight smile. The pews were starting to fill up now, but no one came to sit near her, even though she had prided herself on remembering to hang up her coat and purse instead of surrounding her sides with walls of division. Kimberly both ached for a friend at the new church while simultaneously feeling a cold shiver of dread fill her at that very thought. It was not that Kimberly had no friends; it just seemed to be much harder for her to find them on Sundays. None of her close friends growing up were religious, so when she became a believer, it was an exciting time for her. Only, Kimberly quickly realized she would have to navigate this new foreign terrain alone.
At first, the people had surrounded her as a newcomer, almost overwhelmingly so, and showered her with friendly welcomes. Now it had been a few weeks and Kimberly got the sense that they had moved on. It’s easy to offer a kind welcome, yet much harder to offer friendship to a stranger. Biting her bottom lip, she debated whether she should slip out the back door during the last song since the sermon was about to conclude soon. She had purposely sat in the back in case her anxiety got to be too much. Closing her eyes, she tried to hold back the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. She had dreamed of finding a church family. Not just people to see and worship with on Sunday, but an actual community of fellow believers who would get together outside of church, too.
Kimberly looked to her right and noticed the pretty woman who always dressed so nicely for church. She appeared to be about her age and perhaps could be a good fit as a new friend. Except when the woman did eventually look over at Kimberly and their eyes locked for a moment, she just as quickly looked away, pretending as if Kimberly was not even there. Instead, Kimberly watched as the woman leaned over to her friend and whispered something in her ear. They both shared a quiet laugh, which made Kimberly ache inside.
The last song started to play as a middle-aged man with graying hair led the congregation in the first verse of “Amazing Grace” while a middle-aged woman followed along on the piano playing the melody. It was a beautiful song about God’s incredible redeeming love. Kimberly opened her mouth to sing, but no words came out. She tried again, only to close her mouth right back up. As soon as the song ended, Kimberly hurried to tidy up her area by putting away the Bible and hymnal books and then made her way at a fast clip out into the center aisle. She knew it was self-sabotage to run out of there immediately and not try to socialize a little, but her heart pounded inside her chest like a caged animal ready to escape to safety.
Kimberly was about to step out into the hall when a woman using a walker blocked her path. She wore a pretty violet dress with a daffodil pin clipped onto the collar. Kimberly recognized her, as she had been a greeter last week. The older woman smiled kindly but did not move an inch to let her get past, so Kimberly awkwardly waved hello with one hand while twirling her hair absentmindedly with the other.
“Hello, dear. I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Gladys, but my friends call me Gladdie.”
“Hi, um, we did… never mind. I’m Kimberly.”
“Oh, Kimberly! Now that’s a pretty name. Will you be staying to join us for Bible study?”
Panic began to surge as Kimberly felt so out of place. God had called her to faith and she could not be more grateful for that, yet this was her fifth church. Each one she had entered into with such high hopes and each one she found herself running away from after finding no real connections were being formed. So she did the only thing that came naturally to her in that situation: she left. The way Gladys waited in honest earnest for her reply made Kimberly hesitate. She wanted to say yes and also no. That’s where her search hung currently. One step forward and then two steps back.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t today.”
Gladys smiled and patted Kimberly on the shoulder. The look in her eyes made it seem like she had pierced through her answer to the truth, or maybe it was Kimberly’s own guilt being reflected back at her in them. All of the past rejections had compounded, making it hard for Kimberly to open up fully with anyone now. Gulping, she tried to push down her growing fear. She wondered if she even had stayed, would anyone have actually noticed or cared? It was too risky for Kimberly to even attempt, especially when no one her age seemed to encourage her presence there.
Sprinting now to the car, Kimberly jumped in the driver's seat and shut the door quickly. She let out a slow exhale as she tried to steady her breathing. Reaching into her purse, she dug around until she procured the little notebook that she kept in the far back pocket. Grabbing a pen, Kimberly clicked it and hovered over the opened page on her notepad. It held the name of the church. Taking a deep breath in, Kimberly looked over at the beautiful chapel. She watched as families gathered together under the outdoor pavilion. They were laughing and fellowshiping in the manner that Kimberly had always dreamed of, yet seemed so unattainable for herself.
Not able to hold it in any longer, the tears escaped down her cheeks. Kimberly closed her eyes and continued to hold the pen, frozen in suspension above the list. The first four churches were already crossed off. Maybe for others it was easy to switch churches, but not for Kimberly. For each one, she held such immense hope and promise to only be met with the disappointing realization of unmet social needs. A lot of the churches already had long-established relationships. Would there be any place that had room for her?
Even though she appreciated the old woman’s feeble attempt to sway her to stay, Kimberly’s heart ached because of the peers her own age who overlooked her. Closing her eyes for a moment, Kimberly opened them and this time, without any hesitation, crossed the church name off her list. She did not know how long it would take or how many more churches she could bear feeling rejected from, yet Kimberly could feel God’s small voice being carried on the breeze, softly encouraging her not to give up.
Backing up slowly, Kimberly shifted the gear into drive. It was time to get back on the road. It was time to move on in her search for the place God had always been calling her to, even if she did not know where it was yet. She sighed and wondered if something was wrong with her that others saw no need to truly connect with her. Perhaps it was the guarded walls she had built up over the years out of fear of further rejection that kept them at bay. She did not want to give up, though, not yet anyway. At least she knew God would always be there for her, even if people let her down or couldn’t be what she needed. Hope filled the car as Kimberly cranked up the worship music playing like her anthem on the radio.
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.”Lamentations 3:22-23
Kimberly’s Reflection: God’s love for us is steadfast and unceasing. Relationships will fail us, even good ones in our homes and churches, but God does not fail or forsake us. He is the one constant source of love that we can always depend on. I wrote this story using my name because it is my story, although slightly altered. I did not grow up going to church. I was somewhat raised as a Quaker and went sometimes, but not enough to really consider myself religious. I did believe in God but had little knowledge of who Jesus was or how he factored into the story. It was not until college that my boyfriend (now husband) and my best friend introduced me to my redeeming Savior.
I remember being so excited because I thought I had finally found my people. I believed that all Christians would accept me just as willingly and lovingly as Jesus did, but I quickly learned that even in the church, there are cliques and groups that gravitate toward each other just like in high school. My husband and I church hopped a couple of times until we thought we had found the right church for us. We liked the pastor and his sermons, but we struggled to make real friendships. We made lots of nice acquaintances who were happy to greet us on Sunday, but just as soon forgot us come Monday.
So after our son was born, we decided when he was a little older to try a different church. So that’s where we are now, back in the hunt to find the right church for our family. We are on that journey and even though I do not know where the path will ultimately end up, I know we can trust our Savior who not only walks with us but has also already gone ahead of us. And whenever we do finally find our church home, I know I’ll remember to notice the new visitor. I will not only strive to make them feel welcomed but also make sure they feel included, too. Because I personally know that for some, it takes a lot of courage to even step into a church, especially after experiencing past trauma and hurt.
One thing throughout this journey that has really become clear to me is that sometimes, in order to find the right place, it takes walking out of what’s not meant for us. A lot of times, following God’s path for us is not straight. It is a spiral that keeps nudging us ever closer to the destination. It may feel like we’re starting over or back at square one, but we’re not. There is no shame in trying, only bravery and courage to seek what will ultimately lead us closer to God and His peace, love, and joy.
As always, I am incredibly thankful for you taking the time to read my words! I’d love to hear your thoughts on my story in the comments. If you enjoyed my story, please also consider subscribing or sharing to support me in my writing endeavors. Thank you!
“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.”
Hebrews 10:24
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Thank you so much for your boldness and honesty in writing your story this time. You describe what so many experience today: deep loneliness in a place surrounded by supposed "family-like" community. Sharing your voice gives voice to those who feel unseen. More than ever, this is so important. Really appreciate this.
Hello Kimberly. My name is Kevin. I pray that you and your husband, if not already, will find the church where God will have you attend. Church hurt is a real thing. I wish I could offer a word of encouragement in what to look for in a church home. I think you're on the right track in learning to persist. If the church is preaching and teaching the unadulterated Word of God, that's a good place to start. It's a shame that church hurt exist. However, God's word and grace gives us the power to overcome even that.