My Life. My Struggle. My Healing.

May 25th, 2026

So let’s talk about my journey with God.

I have always been a Christian. I grew up in church, but over time I drifted away because of church hurt.

Have you ever been hurt by a church?

Throughout my life, I attended churches where people were not kind and did not show the love of Jesus. Yes, we are all sinners. None of us are perfect, and we all fall short of the glory of God. But some of the most unkind people I have personally known were churchgoers.

The person who abuses me in the cruelest way possible sits front row in a church every Sunday. I remember walking into that church desperate for help. I was crying, holding my baby, and finally finding the courage to say out loud, “He emotionally abuses me.” That was one of the hardest things I had ever admitted. I thought I would be met with compassion, guidance, or protection. Instead, I was placed in a room with the very person I was begging for help about. The focus quickly shifted away from what I was saying and onto my PTSD and postpartum depression. It felt like my pain was being explained away instead of heard. Instead of asking why I felt unsafe, it felt like they were trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

I left feeling completely defeated. What hurt the most was realizing they believed him over me. My cries for help were minimized. My emotional abuse was ignored. I wasn’t asking for perfection. I was asking for someone to care. One pastor even told me they “only had 10 minutes” for me that day. I still think about that moment sometimes. Imagine coming to a church in agony, desperate for help, carrying the weight of abuse, fear, postpartum struggles, and emotional exhaustion — and being told you only get 10 minutes. A church pushed me further away from God instead of closer to Him. That pain hurt deeply because when you are already broken, rejection from people who claim to represent Jesus cuts differently. And if you know me personally, you know exactly what church I’m speaking of.

But I’m slowly learning that God did not fail me. People did. And there is a difference.

I didn’t find God in church or listening to a preacher. But do you want to know where I truly found God?

In my suffering.

In the quiet moments.
In my bedroom floor prayers.
In my heart.

Even during the moments when heaven felt silent, God still showed up for me every single time.

Since December, I have prayed every day, multiple times a day. I write prayers and place them in a prayer jar beside my bed. I journal prayers to God. I even made a list of things I have been praying and believing for in my life.

God is faithful. His love is unfailing.

And do you know something amazing?

I’ve already checked so many things off that list.

Jesus tells us to have faith and trust Him, and I truly believe that is how we survive difficult seasons in life.

Recently, I had to make one of the biggest risks of my life. I was offered something, and I walked away from it because I trusted God to protect me and my children. People told me I would fail. They told me I would lose everything. And honestly, I walked into that situation terrified. But I still trusted God. And at the very last second, He showed up for me and my children. It may not have unfolded exactly how I wanted, but I believe with my whole heart that God sees the bigger picture. He knows outcomes we cannot see. Just because He does not answer prayers the exact way we want does not mean He is not answering them in the way we need.

Trusting God has been the biggest thing carrying me through this season of my life, and it is the greatest advice I could ever give anyone.

So if you are struggling right now, this is my encouragement to you:

Grab a journal or make a Prayer Jar. Write a prayer. Tell God your deepest feelings, fears, struggles, wants, and needs.

And then trust Him with them because that’s when you’ll find him.

Let’s keep moving forward.

Love always,

Kelsey