I Love God, But I Don’t Trust the Church Anymore. Help.
Q:
I left an extremely abusive marriage last year. My husband was an elder and close friends with our pastor. When I finally told the church what was happening at home — the verbal abuse, the control, even physical harm — no one believed me. I showed up with bruises, and not one person asked how I or my children were doing. Instead, they rallied around him. I left that church, broken, and joined support groups to heal. But what hurts even more is how often I’ve heard my story repeated by other women. Other churches. Other pastors who covered things up. Stories of children abused in the church and the truth hidden. It’s like the scales have fallen off my eyes and I can’t unsee what I’ve seen. Now, I don’t trust any pastor or elder. I still love God with all my heart… but I walk into church and feel triggered as soon as a pastor starts to speak. I assume the worst. Please help — how can I reengage with church without so much fear and suspicion?
A:
First — let me say this: I believe you. And I’m so deeply sorry.
What happened to you is real, and it's not just painful — it’s soul-altering. You experienced a betrayal of the deepest kind: spiritual abuse, covered by people who should have protected you, ignored by those who should have spoken up, and dismissed by leaders who should have reflected Christ.
You are not alone. You are not crazy. And you are not faithless for feeling what you feel.
So let’s talk about these things.
“Why can’t I trust the church anymore?”
Because your body and soul have learned what betrayal feels like.
You know what it’s like to be harmed by someone who claims the name of Christ — and then to be left unprotected by people who are supposed to represent Him.
Your distrust isn’t rooted in rebellion. It’s rooted in experience.
You’ve watched spiritual leaders excuse sin, shame victims, hide abuse, and protect reputations. And now? Your heart feels like it’s living behind barbed wire. That’s not faithlessness — that’s wisdom born from pain.
Jesus doesn’t scold you for this. In fact, He predicted these things would happen.
In Matthew 7:15, He warned us: "Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.”
You’ve seen the wolves. And now you're doing the very brave work of learning how to heal.
“How did it get this bad?”
Because in too many churches, unfortunately, image matters more than integrity.
We live in a culture (and this has seeped into the church) where:
Charisma is rewarded over character.
Sometimes, people in positions of power protect one another instead of safeguarding the vulnerable — and sadly, this especially happens if they are struggling with the same sins themselves.
Many Pastors get close with their elders or leaders, so when abuse happens, some find it hard to separate friendship from truth.
When a person in church leadership (like a pastor or elder) commits a serious wrong or sin, sometimes the church community minimizes or excuses it because of their position or status. They don’t want to confront the painful truth that’s been hidden.
But when a victim or witness speaks up about abuse or wrongdoing, his/her voice is often treated with suspicion or dismissed, and his/her words can be unfairly scrutinized or amplified as if he or she is the problem.
And when that man is an “outstanding husband” who leads Bible studies, evangelizes, and knows how to say all the right words? People can’t imagine that behind closed doors, he could be acting like a monster.
So they choose the story that hurts less — the lie that protects their comfort and keeps their world in tact — and leave the victim re-traumatized quietly in the pew.
“Why do pastors protect abusers?”
Because leadership doesn’t make someone immune to bias — and relational loyalty can sometimes cloud moral judgment.
When a pastor or elder is close friends with the person accused, it can be incredibly difficult to imagine that the man they know — the one who teaches, leads, or serves faithfully — could be capable of serious harm at home. And often, the one causing harm has become a kind of “poster child” for ministry success: he’s visible, vocal, active in missions or outreach, and publicly praised.
To confront a friend would not only be uncomfortable — it might feel like admitting you were wrong to elevate him in the first place. When a leader has spent years affirming someone from the pulpit, it takes great humility to stop and say, “I may have misjudged this.” But failing to do so doesn’t protect the church — it protects sin.
This is where leaders must rise to the weighty responsibility of shepherding: not just leading from the pulpit, but protecting the vulnerable.
Sadly, in some churches, an unhealthy culture of male loyalty can develop — where pastors and elders, sometimes unintentionally (sometimes not), prioritize their relationships over righteousness.
They may be quick to offer grace to the accused and slow to truly listen to the one who is suffering. Sometimes I believe this comes from a place of seeking comfort, familiarity, and fear of disruption. And at other times, sadly, yes, it is because they themselves are steeped in the exact same sins.
But Scripture Is Clear
Either way, Scripture is clear: partiality is not a fruit of the Spirit. James 2:1-4 warns us against showing favoritism in the church — not giving the best seats to the wealthy or well-connected while ignoring those who are vulnerable. This means even our closest relationships need to be held accountable under the truth of God’s Word, without exception.
It takes spiritual maturity and courage to say: “Even if I love and respect this person, I will not ignore serious allegations. I will seek truth, protect the vulnerable, and steward my role with integrity.”
When leaders avoid this, they don’t just miss the mark — they misrepresent the heart of God, who always leans toward justice, humility, and care for the oppressed.
“I still love God…So why does it feel like I’m being pulled away from Him?”
Because the people who claimed to represent Him misused His name. And when spiritual authority is weaponized — it distorts our view of God, and it breaks something inside of us.
That’s why we have to be clear: God was never the author of the abuse.
He did not condone it, nor empower it. Your spouse and your pastor had free will — and they chose to use it in ways that grieved His heart.
God is never complicit in evil. And He never turns a blind eye to sin, even when His name is used to justify it.
Yes, in His mercy, He still desires repentance — even from abusers and enablers. But that doesn’t mean He was with them.
Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
That’s where He is — with the broken. With the crushed.
Not endorsing the sin. Not hiding behind silence. But drawing near to those harmed in His name.
“How can I go back to church without feeling triggered and terrified?”
This is likely going to take time and that’s okay (even though I know it might not feel “okay”).
You may feel anger. You may even feel bitterness creeping in — but that doesn’t make you a bad Christian. It means you've been deeply wounded by people who were supposed to represent Christ. Even God feels righteous anger over injustice and hypocrisy.
You are not “rebellious.”
You are not “forsaking the assembly.”
You are not weak in faith.
You are healing from trauma.
And healing can include anger — we just don’t want it to stay there. You don’t want to live in bitterness, and God won’t leave you there either. But don’t shame yourself for feeling what any human would feel in the face of betrayal.
So let’s start here — gently, slowly — with steps that honor both your pain and your healing.
1. Stop Pressuring Yourself to “Get Over It.”
Let’s be honest: church trauma isn’t like having a bad meal at a restaurant. You’re not just “church hopping” because you didn’t like the music or the preaching style.
This isn’t about preferences — it’s about pain.
When you've been hurt by spiritual leaders, manipulated with Scripture, or dismissed when you spoke up, it leaves deep wounds. It’s not petty, nor dramatic—it’s traumatic. And this needs to time to be grieved. Grieve what you’ve lost. Because it is a lot. Loss of the fellowship you once had, and loss of the sense of safety at church you likely once had. Those are huge losses.
What has happened is a violation of the sacred. A breach of trust. A soul-level wound.
Jesus never asked anyone to fake it. He welcomed grief. He sat with sorrow.
He is patient with the brokenhearted — and you may need to be patient with yourself, too.
As women we have a tendency to give ourselves long lists of “should’s” and “musts,” this can be especially true for those who have experienced abuse. But forcing ourselves with a list of “shoulds” isn’t the path towards healing. Having grace on ourselves during this painful journey is. It isn’t always fast. Just like a broken arm doesn’t heal overnight, neither do our wounded hearts.
2. Reassess What You Truly Believe
Reassessing what you believe is not just healing — it can be a vital part of reclaiming your faith.
When spiritual abuse has occurred — whether from a spouse, a parent, or a church — we often adopt beliefs just to survive.
Maybe you were in a church where:
If you didn’t dress a certain way, you were shamed.
If you questioned a leader, you were called rebellious.
If you disagreed with doctrine, you were made to feel spiritually inferior.
And so, to stay safe or to feel included, you conformed.
But healing invites you to ask:
“Is this what I truly believe? Or was I manipulated into believing it?”
Sometimes what we’ve internalized isn’t from God — it’s from fear, coercion, or guilt.
There is freedom in going back to Scripture yourself, with a tender heart and open eyes, and saying, “Lord, show me what is Yours — and what is not.”
As you do this, something beautiful can happen: You begin to rebuild your faith — not based on pressure or fear or guilt — but on truth and relationship.
And your confidence in God becomes your own — not borrowed from someone else’s version of Him.
And often, it’s that very confidence — that personal, rooted desire to be close to God that gives you the strength to try again. Not because people are necessarily safer, but because the true God — a God of love, not shame — is allowed in to be your heart’s deepest desire again.
3. Don’t Equate a Time Away from Church as Faithlessness
You can love Jesus and still be cautious about a church that has been known to cause harm.
You can follow Christ without handing over your trust to just any pastor or leader, or even church member.
If you need time in a home fellowship, support group, or just in stillness with the Lord — that’s not rebellion. That’s healing.
4. When Ready to Try a New Church, Start Slow
You do not owe anyone instant trust.
Sit quietly. Watch how they lead. See how they handle accountability, questions, and tension.
Look for humility, not hype.
Watch how they treat the wounded, not just how they preach.
Listen for stories of past harm. Has this been an accountable church, with accountable leaders?
These are the indicators that can help you to start discerning a safe church from an unsafe church. It’s important to note that church may not be quite the same experience for you now. Spiritual abuse changes something within us, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t find a way to reengage that’s meaningful for you now at this stage in your life.
5. Look for Fruit, Not Just Gifts
A church may have great preaching, a huge following, and dynamic programs — but none of that means they’re necessarily spiritually healthy.
Charisma does not equal character.
Look for leaders who:
Confess quickly.
Don’t dominate.
Aren’t defensive when challenged.
Listen more than they speak.
Honor women and those who have been victimized.
Submit to shared accountability and transparency.
6. Let Trust Be Earned, Not Assumed
You are not required to “get over it” just to make others comfortable.
Let people show you who they are over time. Trust isn’t given freely anymore — and that’s okay. It means you’ve learned the value of discernment. It took Jospeh numerous attempts to trust that his brothers had truly changed. He even tested the waters to make sure their repentance and change was real. (Genesis chapters 42-44) This is wise counsel, we can also do this.
“Are there any safe churches left?”
Yes — but, I do understand, that when you’ve been wounded it can feel like there are none left. We live in a fallen world, so we are dealing with a great deal of fallout. However, I do believe, while no church will be perfect, that there are spaces and churches that are trying to be safe. And those are the ones to seek out.
Look for churches that:
Confront sin instead of covering it.
Defend victims instead of defending reputations.
Let women speak and be heard.
Practice accountability even at the top.
Prioritize humility over popularity.
Have protective measures in place if abuse happens.
Lead programs for the vulnerable and victimized.
Ask God to guide your steps. He is more invested in this than even you are, so you can trust Him to walk with you in your search.
And it’s wise to gather support so you don’t walk this alone.
Trauma-informed counselors, coaches, and support groups can make a world of difference. Healing in community is powerful.
Don’t Forget to Be Patient With Yourself…
You are not broken.
You are not faithless.
You are learning to protect the sacred places in your soul.
Your eyes have been opened — not so you can walk in fear, but so you can walk in truth.
The church may have failed you.
But God will not.
You don’t have to rush.
You don’t have to explain.
You don’t have to trust quickly again.
But you can keep walking with Jesus.
And as you do, you’ll find your way back — not to blind trust, but to wise faith.
You are healing.
And that healing is holy.
If this post resonated with you, or you’ve walked this painful path too, feel free to share in the comments or pass it to someone who needs to know: You are not alone. God sees. And He is still safe.
Darah Ashlie
Darah Ashlie is the President of Restored for Good Ministries, a Trauma and Abuse Recovery Coach, and an avid writer with a heart to share the wisdom God has given her through years of walking alongside women in life’s messiest places. She writes with compassion and clarity from her own healing journey and comes alongside women ready to reclaim their voice, rebuild their lives, and live in the freedom God intended. Connect with her at https://www.youtube.com/@darahashlie or on social media @DarahAshlie.