When I Left Church, I Found God
I’m gonna say it.
I don’t like church.
I stopped attending years ago.
And for me, that’s when my relationship with God truly began.
I spent most of my life in church.
I received a lot from it.
I gave a lot to it.
And if I’m honest… it took a lot from me too.
Eventually, I knew I had to leave.
Now I work for a Christian organization, and once a month we have an all-staff meeting that includes a sermon. I sit there and watch everyone else nod at the right moments, say “Amen,” “That’s good,” like there was a class I somehow missed on how to participate in church correctly.
And I feel… nothing.
I look around and think,
What is wrong with me?
Because I don’t feel it.
It’s like there’s a wall.
Or maybe I am the wall.
Nothing gets in.
It’s the hardest hour of my month. Every month.
I walk out defeated because something that seems to move everyone else doesn’t move me at all.
But here’s the strange part.
Once a week, my boss, Pastor Jerry, gives devotionals to just four of us on the leadership team. Those feel like church. Those are the best spiritual moments of my week.
So it’s not God I struggle with.
It’s church.
Which is wild, considering I grew up in it.
Christian schools.
Sunday school teacher.
Youth group leader.
Volunteer for everything.
I was the gold-star church kid. The “popular” one. The dependable one.
My identity was church.
But somewhere along the way, I realized something uncomfortable:
I had community.
I had cliques.
I had responsibilities.
But I didn’t actually have God.
And what I did have in abundance was shame.
No matter how hard I tried, I left every Sunday feeling like I wasn’t enough.
Not serving enough.
Not praying enough.
Not worshipping enough.
Not Christian enough.
And deep down, I knew:
that’s not what a relationship with Jesus is supposed to feel like.
I had a full-blown relationship with church.
But not with Him.
Not even close.
So I left.
And I haven’t gone back.
I’m not saying that’s what everyone should do. I believe in the value of church. I believe in community. I’ve seen how much good it can do.
But I’ve also seen how easily church can replace God.
And if your faith only survives inside a building, I’m not sure it’s really faith.
It reminds me of work friendships.
I have coworkers I adore. Truly. But sometimes I wonder — if we didn’t share a workplace, would we still talk? If all we ever discuss is work, what happens when work disappears?
When my relationship with God was only about church, and I removed church, I realized how little relationship there actually was.
So now I have the relationship.
But I don’t have church.
And weirdly… I miss it.
I think that’s why those staff meetings bother me so much. They stir up something old. Something familiar. Something that used to define me.
Church used to shape my identity.
Now my identity is in Him.
And it’s deeper. Quieter. More real than it ever was when I was just showing up every Sunday checking the “good Christian” boxes.
Back then, church almost protected me.
If I went, volunteered, served, sang the songs — I could pretend I was living like Jesus without actually having to live like Jesus.
Now I find church in smaller places.
In conversations.
In devotionals.
In quiet prayers.
In moments of obedience no one sees.
The sweet spot is probably both — Jesus and His bride. God and community. Faith and fellowship.
Maybe someday I’ll find my way back to that balance.
But for now, I’d rather have a real relationship with Him outside the walls than stand inside them pretending.
And for this season, that’s enough.
Keep Reading
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• God and I Are at an Impasse — when faith feels quiet and God feels far
• Faith — learning to trust without performance
• Separation — how isolation sneaks in even when we think we’re connected
