Jerilyn never thought she would become one of those people who stopped going to church.
At 34 years old, she had grown up in church. Sunday mornings were not optional in her childhood. She knew the hymns, the Bible stories, the church anniversaries, the youth programs, and the fellowship dinners. Church was not just a place she attended; it was part of her identity.
For years, when people asked why she wasn’t attending church regularly anymore, she gave polite answers.
“I’ve been busy.”
“My schedule has been crazy.”
“I’ve just been trying to figure some things out.”
While those statements contained pieces of the truth, they weren’t the whole truth.
One day, after months of soul-searching, she finally admitted something that shocked even her.
“I can’t afford to go to church.”
It sounded terrible when she said it out loud.
How could someone not afford to go to church? Church was supposed to be free.
Yet for Jerilyn, it no longer felt that way.
Growing Up in a Different Church Culture
Jerilyn grew up attending smaller churches where everyone knew everyone. Members celebrated births, mourned losses, and helped one another during difficult seasons. People weren’t perfect, but there was a strong sense of community.
As an adult, she found herself attending larger churches that operated very differently.
The worship was excellent.
The facilities were impressive.
The programs were endless.
The sermons were inspiring.
But something felt different.
Over time, she began feeling as though her financial contributions mattered more than her spiritual growth.
She understood the importance of giving. She believed churches needed resources to operate and serve their communities. She wasn’t opposed to tithing.
What troubled her was the atmosphere.
Every sermon about giving seemed directed at those who weren’t giving enough.
Every stewardship campaign felt urgent.
Every building fund required sacrifice.
Every fundraising initiative carried an expectation.
Instead of feeling encouraged in her faith, she began feeling guilty about her finances.
The Reality Nobody Knew
Behind the scenes, Jerilyn was struggling.
Like millions of Americans, she carried student loan debt.
She lived paycheck to paycheck.
She carefully budgeted every dollar.
Then came the unexpected blow.
Budget cuts at her employer led to layoffs.
Suddenly, she found herself unemployed.
For months she survived on unemployment benefits while desperately searching for work.
She didn’t tell many people.
She didn’t want sympathy.
She didn’t want handouts.
And she certainly didn’t go to the church asking for financial assistance.
She simply did what many people do when they’re hurting.
She suffered quietly.
What made the situation even more painful was the internal battle she fought every week.
If she had enough money to buy groceries, should she tithe?
If her rent was due, should she tithe?
If her utility bill was overdue, should she tithe?
If she couldn’t afford gas, should she tithe?
Somewhere along the way, she had convinced herself that faithful Christians should always give, regardless of their circumstances.
Even if it hurt.
Even if they couldn’t afford it.
Even if their own needs went unmet.
When the Hurt Became Personal
The turning point came when Jerilyn volunteered to serve on a youth committee.
She was excited to contribute her time and talents.
She wanted to help young people.
She wanted to serve.
Instead, she discovered something that left a lasting wound.
Her tithing history had apparently become a topic of discussion.
Rather than approaching her directly, concerns about her giving were brought to the attention of the committee leader by church administrative leadership.
No one asked if she was struggling.
No one asked if she had lost her job.
No one asked if she needed prayer.
No one reached out privately.
No one checked on her well-being.
What seemed to matter most was the number attached to her name.
Jerilyn found herself wondering:
“Do they know me at all?”
The church knew her giving records.
But did they know her story?
Did they know her fears?
Did they know she was choosing between groceries and gas?
Did they know she cried herself to sleep wondering how she’d pay next month’s bills?
The answer appeared to be no.
The message she received, intentionally or unintentionally, was clear.
Her financial contribution mattered more than her circumstances.
That realization broke something inside her.
She slowly stepped away from the committee.
Then she slowly stepped away from church.
Eventually, she stopped attending altogether.
When Giving Stops Being Worship
Giving should never feel like surveillance.
It should never feel like membership dues.
It should never feel like a financial report card.
At its best, giving is an act of worship.
It is a personal decision between a believer and God.
While churches certainly need financial support, many people have experienced hurt when conversations about stewardship become conversations about worthiness.
When someone’s giving history becomes more visible than their humanity, something has gone terribly wrong.
People experiencing financial hardship need compassion, not scrutiny.
They need understanding, not assumptions.
They need support, not shame.
Three Common Types of Church Hurt
While Jerilyn’s story centers around financial pressure, church hurt comes in many forms.
1. Financial Church Hurt
This occurs when people feel judged, pressured, manipulated, or valued primarily by what they contribute financially.
It can leave individuals feeling as though their relationship with God has become tied to their bank account.
For many people, this type of hurt creates guilt, shame, and distance from organized church communities.
2. Leadership Hurt
Leadership hurt happens when pastors, ministry leaders, or church staff abuse authority, mishandle conflicts, engage in favoritism, or fail to address concerns appropriately.
Because spiritual leaders often hold positions of trust, the wounds from these experiences can run especially deep.
People may begin questioning not only leadership but their faith itself.
3. Relational Hurt
Sometimes the deepest wounds come from fellow church members.
Gossip.
Judgment.
Exclusion.
Cliques.
Betrayal.
Rejection.
Many people enter church seeking community and leave feeling more isolated than when they arrived.
The pain of relational church hurt can make trusting others difficult for years.
Healing While Holding Onto Your Faith
One of the greatest tragedies of church hurt is that people often confuse God with the people who hurt them.
The church may fail.
People may disappoint.
Leadership may make mistakes.
But those failures do not define God.
Healing requires separating the actions of imperfect people from the character of God.
That isn’t always easy.
In fact, it may take years.
For Jerilyn, healing began when she stopped believing that God’s love was connected to a percentage on a giving statement.
She began reading Scripture on her own again.
She prayed honestly.
She processed her hurt.
She allowed herself to admit that what happened had wounded her.
Most importantly, she gave herself permission to heal without abandoning her faith.
Three Ways to Continue Growing Spiritually While Healing
Give Yourself Permission to Feel
You cannot heal wounds you refuse to acknowledge.
Anger, disappointment, sadness, confusion, and grief are all valid responses to church hurt.
God can handle your honesty.
Stay Connected to God Even if You Need Distance from a Church
A season away from a particular church may be necessary for healing.
Continue praying.
Continue studying Scripture.
Continue seeking God.
Your relationship with Him does not disappear simply because you’re working through pain.
Remember That One Church Is Not Every Church
The church that hurt you is not representative of every congregation.
Healthy churches exist.
Compassionate leaders exist.
Authentic communities exist.
Healing may eventually lead you back to a church environment that reflects the love, grace, and support you were seeking all along.
Final Thoughts
Jerilyn’s story is not just about money.
It is about feeling unseen.
It is about wondering whether your value is tied to your contribution.
It is about carrying private struggles while people make public assumptions.
Many people who have stopped attending church aren’t angry at God.
They’re hurt by experiences that made them feel unwelcome, judged, or forgotten.
Church should be a place where struggling people find hope, not additional burdens.
A place where people are loved before they’re assessed.
A place where grace outweighs judgment.
And a place where someone who has lost their job, exhausted their savings, and is simply trying to survive can walk through the doors knowing they are valued—not because of what they give, but because of who they are.
Because faith should never come with a price tag.
