Life Since Changing Churches
“Show me Your ways, O Lord;
Teach me Your paths.”
On November 3rd of last year, I left the church I had attended for two and a half years. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the right one. A month later, I began attending a church a few miles away in a neighboring town. In the four months since, I’ve received so many quiet confirmations that the move was exactly what it needed to be.
There was nothing wrong with my previous church. In fact, I’ve come to realize that I was meant to be at this new church back in 2024.
So why didn’t I make the move then?
That answer came through much prayer and a willingness to truly listen to God. When I finally understood it, I shared it with my new pastors.
For nearly twenty years, I ran from God. I was angry. Angry that my previous marriage failed. Angry that the years following my divorce were so painful. I never denied Jesus as my Savior, but I certainly didn’t give Him full access to my life.
Slowly, though, things began to shift. I started reading my Bible again. Then COVID happened, and the world seemed to pause. In that stillness, I realized I needed to get right with God.
And I did, but on my terms. I decided I wouldn’t return to corporate worship.
God, in His grace, had other plans.
By the end of 2022, I knew I needed to find a church. I chose my nephew’s church because it felt easier to walk in where there was already a familiar face. I dove in wholeheartedly, even stepping into a staff role early in 2024.
Then something unexpected happened.
When a beloved member passed away, a neighboring church graciously offered their sanctuary for the memorial service. The moment I walked through those doors, something felt different. I felt at home. During those few hours, I couldn’t shake the sense that I was meant to be there.
And yet, I stayed where I was.
For the next fifteen months, I wrestled with that calling. I first felt the nudge to leave in the summer of 2024, but I kept brushing it aside. I stepped down from my staff role, only to return to it seven months later.
That’s when the Holy Spirit began pressing in more firmly.
Eventually, I surrendered. I chose obedience and left.
I took a month to prayerfully visit other churches. I watched livestreams, read doctrinal statements, and sought clarity. One night, feeling overwhelmed and afraid of making the wrong choice, I prayed honestly, asking God for direction, for help, for something.
In that quiet moment, two names came to mind.
So I reached out. I sent a simple text and trusted God with whatever came next.
On Sunday, November 23rd, I visited the very church I had felt drawn to back in 2024.
It was amazing.
When the pastor announced the morning Scripture reading—Psalm 59—I heard it: the sound of pages turning. Not just one or two, but many Bibles opening together. Later, when the associate pastor asked us to turn to 2 Corinthians 9, that same sound filled the room again.
It stirred something deep within me, so much so that I felt the urge to take a lap around the sanctuary in praise. I managed to stay seated (aware of my Baptist surroundings), but my heart was overflowing.
I was home.
My time at my previous church was not a mistake. I grew there. God used that season to teach me, to free me from burdens, and to deepen my love for His Son, my Savior, Jesus.
But obedience comes at a cost.
For me, it meant leaving behind comfort of my old church, the growing women’s Bible study the pastor’s wife and I had prayed over, the relationships I cherished, and even worshiping alongside family members.
Not everyone understood.
A dear friend, unable (or unwilling) to see my heart, believed I was running away. Her words, offered as forgiveness, cut deeply: “I forgive you for running away.”
But I wasn’t running away.
I was running to God.
And while I can’t change how she sees it, I’ve entrusted that hurt to Him.
Since making this decision, God has continued to bless me. Interestingly, the church I left has also continued to grow. Could I have stayed? Yes. But living under conviction is not a place of peace. There is a deep unrest that comes from knowing you are not aligned with God’s will.
The peace I felt after stepping into this new church, after meeting with the pastors and beginning the process toward membership, has been undeniable.
Even my husband, who does not share my faith, has noticed the difference. Each Sunday, when I return home, he sees it. My grown sons have noticed too. In recent months, our conversations have turned more toward faith, toward life, toward placing Jesus back where He belongs.
That alone has been a gift.
In my final conversation with my friend, I knew she still believed I was “running away.” I told her how deeply that hurt. She often asked me to see her heart, yet never truly tried to see mine. For now, I’ve accepted that some distance is necessary.
@madebyjens
And I’ve given that, too, to God.
The past four months have been full, rich with deep study of the Word, new relationships within this church family, and a growing love for this season of life. I’ve come to treasure Sunday mornings in the women’s class, the fellowship opportunities, and the recent Bible study through 2 Peter and Jude.
I’m especially looking forward to the upcoming time of focused, intentional study on April 17th. That’s the day of “Secret Church: Elijah-Radical” What a night that will be!
I know, without a doubt, that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.
And God, in His kindness, has confirmed that truth again and again.
Peace,
B
