Letter from a Church Prodigal

Growing up as a pastor’s kid was tough, sometimes even harsh and lonely. It felt like we were living in a fishbowl, constantly under watchful eyes.

We also got to experience firsthand how a church functions behind the scenes. We saw the good, the bad, and the ugly. It was hard watching fellow brothers and sisters in Christ bickering about money, status, and judgment. Here was God’s house, a place of worship, and rather than being filled with acceptance and peace, it was often rife with gossip, control, and betrayal.

I’m not saying that we were without fault ourselves. We, too, made choices we wish we could take back. The anger and bad attitudes were contagious.

We did meet some amazing people who truly loved the Lord, who gave us hope and encouraged us to press on. Eventually, though, we decided it was time to move. It was relief to start over, but we quickly realized that the next church we went to had similar issues. There were wonderful people there, but again, we encountered petty bickering and control problems. The church was divided, and it was painful.

I was done. I loved God with all my heart, but I decided I was not a fan of his people.

Our family had been brought in to keep the church afloat, but the congregation seemed to feel no need to help out. Programs were implemented to bring life back into the church, but volunteers were sparse. They didn’t realize our family was suffering.

I began to hate going to church.

After I graduated from high school, I decided to live life the way I wanted to live it. Rebellion set in. Anger and selfishness became my motto, and I didn’t care who I hurt. At the same time, I was ashamed because I knew better. I made choices I still regret.

I believed the lies the enemy whispered into my ear: There is no place of redemption or hope for a sinner like you.

I didn’t want to go back to church. I had been working so hard to cover up my wrongs that my heart had been hardened. I began crying out to God in repentance, and finally surrendered to whatever his will was for me. I realized I had become the very thing I hated. My own hypocrisy started the day I began judging the people in my church.

How often do we find ourselves in this cycle of condemnation and regret?

I had heard the story of the prodigal son repeatedly throughout my childhood, and I always believed I would never make such foolish choices. Little did I know that I would become the prodigal daughter. I had run far away from my Father and his loving ways, and all I’d found was emptiness. I admitted defeat, packed up my stuff, and moved back in with my parents.I met my husband, who had also walked a rebellious road. We both realized something was missing in our lives. God led us, together, to a church that would change the way that we looked at others, the way we looked at church.

This church welcomed us with open arms and without judgment. They taught us about humility, repentance, and love. They encouraged us to embrace our pasts and not look at them as places of shame, but rather as our stories. We could use our experiences to walk alongside others who were struggling with similar situations.

We are all imperfect, but when we come together under the grace of our Father and humbly realize that we need to give the grace we so desperately desire, we will receive the healing we need.

The enemy loves to remind us often of the sins we have committed. He wants to keep us in isolation and shame to prevent us from helping others with what we have walked through. He knows our trials help grow us if we let God change our hearts.

I want to encourage you to love and pray for your pastors and their families. They are fully human, and they struggle just as you do. I would also like to encourage you to stand united with our brothers and sisters in the church. While we may not see eye to eye, the world is watching to see how we handle each other.

 

Kelly Nickerson is a homeschooling mama with two beautiful kids under her wing and four dancing in heaven. She also lives with her amazing husband, who supports her like no other. Kelly is a firecracker prayer warrior who shares honestly about her brokenness, while praising and clinging to the God who sustains her. When she isn’t hunting down germs with disinfectant, you can find her writing of her adventures at kellynickerson.com.

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