Let’s Talk About Church Hurt

Let’s Talk About Church Hurt

Let’s Talk About Church Hurt: Wisdom, Discernment, and Keeping Jesus at the Center.

Recently, conversations about church hurt have been everywhere, especially after watching the Netflix documentary The Death of a Pastor’s Wife. I’m not here to spoil the documentary, but it brought back lessons from my own years of serving in church — lessons about leadership, spiritual manipulation, wisdom, discernment, healing, and keeping Jesus at the center.

I’ve actually wanted to write about church hurt for a long time. I even have unfinished drafts sitting on my blog that keep circling around this topic.

Maybe part of me always wondered, Do I have the right to talk about this? Am I seeing things correctly? Should I just stay quiet?

But there are some things my integrity simply cannot pretend not to see.

Why Wisdom and Discernment Matter

I grew up in a Christian family. I spent many of my younger years actively serving in different ministries, and honestly, those were some of the best years of my life.

There was joy.
There was purpose.
There was friendship.
There was also pain.

And if there are two things I have learned through all of it, they are these:

Wisdom and discernment matter.

And I am not only talking about pastors.

Unhealthy leadership can come from anyone who has influence, authority, position, or power — especially when that authority starts being used to control people rather than serve them.

I am grateful that one of the things I have always prayed for is wisdom and discernment.

Sometimes, though, discernment can be uncomfortable.

Because you notice things.

You notice when something doesn’t feel genuine.
You notice patterns.
You notice the difference between what someone says and the fruit their life eventually produces.

When I was younger, I had someone in my life whom I sometimes felt wasn’t completely genuine. But because of who I am, I gave the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe I’m overthinking.
Maybe it’s nothing.
Give grace.
Don’t judge too quickly.

And honestly, grace is still important.

But grace does not mean ignoring patterns.

One memory I still remember clearly was during my despedida before I moved to Aruba. The youth prepared something beautiful for me. I felt so loved and special.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this person roll her eyes.

HAHA.

At the time I thought, Okay… weird. 😅

Looking back, that tiny moment wasn’t proof of everything that later happened. But as the years passed, other patterns became much harder to ignore.

She became very close to my family. We laughed together. We treated each other like sisters.

And eventually, relationships started breaking.

At one point, even my sister and I had conflict because of things I had been told. And that hurt deeply because my sister and I are not only siblings — we are best friends.

Then one day, something was said that made me stop and think:

Wait… I know my sister. Why am I believing someone else over the person I have known my whole life?

That became an important lesson for me.

Never surrender your own judgment simply because someone sounds convincing.

Over time, there were deeper conflicts, broken friendships, people taking sides, accusations, hurt, and relationships that never returned to what they once were.

My sister tried to speak about what she believed were controlling and manipulative behaviors, but at the time, people didn’t necessarily see what she saw.

And years later, some of those patterns became clearer.

That experience was painful.

Really painful.

Even now, remembering certain parts can still make me emotional because church hurt is rarely only about church.

It affects friendships.
Families.
Trust.
Community.
Your willingness to serve.
Sometimes even the way you see yourself.

And that is why I keep coming back to wisdom and discernment.

Not so we become suspicious of everyone.

Not so we can label people immediately.

Not so we can act spiritually superior.

But so we can look at the fruit.

Does this leadership produce freedom or fear?

Humility or ego?

Accountability or secrecy?

Unity or camps?

Can people disagree without being punished?

Can someone leave without suddenly being treated like an enemy?

Can you ask questions without being called rebellious?

Because when loyalty to a person becomes more important than loyalty to Christ, something is already wrong.

When Leadership Becomes Control

I have also experienced church leadership where I was told who I could or could not invite, speak to, or stay connected with after leaving.

And… well.

Princess Leah is not very good at pretending something is okay when I believe it isn’t. 😂

I remember saying plainly:

Your action is not godly.

I won’t go into every detail.

But I have learned that I cannot comfortably participate in leadership cultures built on control, intimidation, manipulation, favoritism, superiority, or unquestionable loyalty.

Some people may use words like narcissism, spiritual manipulation, “Jezebel spirit,” or even witchcraft when describing certain patterns.

Personally, I think the safest thing is to look at the behavior and the fruit rather than rush to diagnose or spiritually label someone.

Because whatever label you use, manipulation is still manipulation.

Control is still control.

Humiliation is still humiliation.

Using God’s name to protect your ego is still wrong.

And Scripture should never become a weapon to keep people under someone’s personal authority.

These are God’s sheep.

Not yours.

People are not possessions.

They are not trophies.

They are not there to increase someone’s influence, finances, status, or sense of superiority.

Even God Himself gives people the freedom to choose.

So who are we to build little kingdoms where everyone has to bow to one personality?

Wag ako. Hindi mo ako madadala sa ganyan. 😂

Discernment Is Not Rebellion

And this is also why believers have responsibility.

Discernment is not rebellion.

Wisdom is not disrespect.

Testing the fruit is biblical.

“Test everything; hold fast what is good.”
— 1 Thessalonians 5:21

If leadership cannot tolerate questions, correction, accountability, or people thinking for themselves, something needs to be examined.

People Hurt Me. God Didn’t.

And despite everything I have experienced, church hurt never stopped me from believing that God is good.

People hurt me.

God didn’t.

People disappointed me.

Jesus didn’t.

People misused positions and relationships.

That did not change the character of Christ.

I may have needed healing. I may still have moments when old memories hurt. But the grace of God has been sufficient through every season.

He gave me comfort.
He gave me understanding.
He gave me wisdom.
And He taught me that even though we live in a world where people can misuse power — even inside churches — we can still stand firm in our faith.

Someone else’s insecurity does not have to dim your light.

Someone else’s approval does not determine your calling.

And someone’s title does not make them God.

At the end of the day, we are not living for everybody’s approval.

We live for an Audience of One.

And sa mga gustong laging pabida… sige, kanila na spotlight. 😂

When Hurt Doesn’t Have the Final Word

I loved this season. I experienced God here. I also experienced hurt here. And both things can be true.

These years shaped me in so many ways. They taught me how to serve, how to love people, how to give my time and heart to ministry, and how beautiful it can be when a community genuinely seeks God together.

But they also taught me that people are still people — even inside the church.

Some relationships changed. Some memories became painful. Some things I once trusted had to be examined again with wisdom and discernment.

And yet, when I look back, I do not want the hurt to erase the good.

I am still grateful for the laughter, the friendships, the worship, the late nights, the ministry, the lessons, and the younger version of me who simply wanted to serve God with everything she had.

Church hurt became part of my story, but it did not become the end of my faith.

I learned that people can fail you without God failing you.

People can misuse influence without changing who Jesus is.

A season can carry both beauty and pain.

And healing does not always mean pretending it never happened. Sometimes healing is being able to look back and say:

It hurt me. It changed me. But God still met me there.

So I choose to keep the lessons, release what I cannot change, and continue following Jesus with wiser eyes and a softer heart.

Same Jesus.

Still faithful.

Still good.

Still the center.

Jesus Remains the Center

I’ll keep looking to Jesus.

Because He is the One who deserves the glory.

Not personalities.
Not influence.
Not power.
Not platforms.

Jesus. Always Jesus.

What I Choose Now

And as I write these words, I realize this is also part of my healing.

I don’t want to carry the anger anymore. I don’t want an unforgiving heart to have a permanent place in me. What happened was painful, and some things may never be fully explained or apologized for, but I don’t want the hurt to keep deciding how I move forward.

So today, I choose to release it.

I release the anger.
I release the disappointment.
I release the need for people to finally understand what happened.
I release the parts of the story I cannot change.

And I choose healing.

Not because what happened was okay, but because I want peace more than I want to keep carrying the weight of it.

I can forgive and still have boundaries.
I can heal without pretending it never happened.
I can remember without allowing the memory to control me.

I trust God with the justice, the truth, and the parts I may never understand.

As for me, I want to move forward lighter, wiser, and still loving Jesus.

Church hurt may be part of my story, but bitterness does not have to be.

Love, Princess Leah

P.S.

My last writing was about surviving.

And maybe that was exactly where I was then — learning how to keep going, how to breathe through the hard days, and how to make it through one season at a time.

But now, at 40, I feel like God is bringing me into something different.

Maybe this chapter is not only about surviving anymore.

Maybe it’s about healing.

Healing from the things I carried for too long.
Healing from disappointment.
Healing from church hurt.
Healing from relationships that changed me.
Healing from versions of myself that only knew how to survive.

I don’t know exactly what this chapter will look like yet, but I know I want to walk through it lighter, wiser, softer, and closer to God.

So I guess this is what my 40th year is becoming:

Not just surviving. Healing.

And maybe, little by little, becoming whole again.