Some people don’t leave God. They leave the mess made in His name.
For decades, the church was supposed to be a refuge — a place for healing, truth, and transformation. But more and more, people are walking away. Not out of rebellion. Not out of apathy. But because the place that claimed to carry God’s presence felt more like a stage than a sanctuary. Because the message was drowned out by manipulation, the doctrine weaponized to control, and the leaders exposed in scandal after scandal — while telling the faithful to keep quiet and just “pray harder.”
This isn’t about anger toward God. It’s about betrayal by institutions. And for many, the damage isn’t just spiritual. It’s personal.
They showed up with hope — and left with wounds. They asked questions — and were silenced. They tried to belong — and were judged instead.
So they stopped going. They stopped pretending. Some walked into atheism. Others into solitude. And many simply drifted, not because they stopped believing, but because they had no safe place left to believe in.
And then there’s the unspoken truth: Some people never stopped loving Jesus. They just stopped trusting His representatives. This is for the ones who walked away — not because they hated faith,
but because they couldn’t survive the damage done in its name.
Faith is complicated. For some, it’s a sanctuary. For others, it becomes a battleground—a place where beliefs are twisted and truths are buried. The journey toward or away from faith often hinges not on spiritual revelation but on human experiences—experiences that can uplift or devastate. This story is about the latter.
When Religion Twists Faith
For many, understanding faith can be daunting. The Bible itself—rich, profound, and complex—is not always an easy read, and that’s exactly what church communities are supposed to help with: to guide, clarify, and teach. But too often, that’s not what happens. Too often, organized religion becomes the obstacle instead of the bridge.
It’s hard enough that the Bible has been stripped, reworded, and rewritten across centuries to fit agendas that had nothing to do with God’s voice. But when the very institutions that claim to represent Him become the ones who twist His message… it leaves scars. Not just on faith — but on people.
Take my own family as an example. Most identify as Catholic. I have nothing against their religion or any religion for that matter; belief is personal and sacred. Yet, even within their shared faith, each member seemed to create their own personal doctrine. Contradictions became the norm, inconsistencies thrived, and the more I listened, the less sense it made. Religion, instead of bringing clarity, deepened confusion.
Then came my father and his circle. His church was something entirely different—an unsettling mix of control and fanaticism. Forced attendance twice a week was a burden, but the practices inside were worse. There was speaking in tongues, a ritual I found unsettling and alienating. How could a God of clarity and love communicate in ways designed to confuse and frighten? But the worst was yet to come.
One of their rituals involved lining up the children, myself included, to be physically disciplined by strangers wielding belts. This abuse, astonishingly, was justified as “breaking down” children to understand authority and obedience to God. When I sarcastically pointed out they forgot to invoke the Holy Spirit during one punishment, the whipping intensified. This wasn’t faith—it was brutality masked as discipline. Yet no one intervened, because it was wrapped neatly in religion.
Afterward, my father and his friend would continue their so-called “Bible studies” — while our punishment continued at home. As if the beatings weren’t enough, they added another layer of cruelty: they’d make me and my siblings sit there and watch as they devoured a half-gallon of ice cream in front of us. No sharing. No mercy. Just a twisted ritual masked as a lesson — as if emotional starvation was somehow holy.
Those moments weren’t just punishments. They were indoctrination wrapped in abuse.
And the scars they left didn’t just shape how I viewed my family — they reshaped how I viewed faith, authority, and organized religion itself.
It screwed me up for a long time. I didn’t know how to separate God from the people who used His name as a weapon. Didn’t know how to trust scripture when it had been weaponized in the hands of people who skipped over love just to get to control.
A Hard Journey Toward Understanding
At fifteen, I’d had enough. Home wasn’t home—it was a battleground. My father had long abandoned any semblance of parental support since I was ten tears old, forcing me to navigate life largely alone, educating myself through harsh trial and error. Each misstep, each setback, became another brick in a towering wall of distrust, doubt, and struggle. Yet somehow, my faith in something greater survived.
Why did it survive? Because despite the chaos, cruelty, and isolation, there were moments that couldn’t be explained any other way than divine intervention.
Moments of Undeniable Grace
There was one such moment, burned into memory with absolute clarity. I was in my late twenties, and financial desperation wasn’t just familiar — it was constant due to my last marriage. Delivering pizzas as a side hustle helped keep things afloat, but it wasn’t enough when life threw punches.
And one night, it threw hard.
My car broke down — no deliveries, no income, and no way to cover the basics. No gas. No food. No diapers for my kids. Not even toilet paper. I’d spent what little I had fixing the car just to make it drivable again, but by then I was tapped out. I reached out for help — and got nothing. People I’d helped before either didn’t answer or suddenly had nothing to give. That kind of silence hits much differently when your back’s against the wall. It’s not just quiet — it’s abandonment. It’s the ache of being unseen, unheard, and uncared for when you’re at your lowest. And when the world goes mute and the people you once counted on vanish, you start to wonder if even God has gone silent too.
When I reached out to people who could help, doors closed in my face. Friends I’d helped before were suddenly unreachable. It was just me and the cold reality of not having enough to survive another day. That night, around 3 AM, I stood outside — utterly broken, desperate, and crying out to a God I could only hope was still listening. I didn’t know what else to do. And truthfully, I had never asked Him for anything before. Not once.
Then something happened—something remarkable.
As tears streamed down my face, a weird flicker caught my eye. From a tree above, something fell gently to the ground. I reached down and picked it up—a twenty-dollar bill. Astonished, I looked up again just as another bill floated directly into my open palm, followed by another landing softly on the grass. Sixty dollars appeared from nowhere—exactly enough for food, diapers, toilet paper, and gas. No one else was around to witness it, no explanation could rationalize it, yet it happened. That night wasn’t about religion — it was about faith. Pure, raw, undeniable faith. And in that moment, something shifted. That night didn’t just test my belief — it reinforced it. It reminded me that even when the world fails you, God doesn’t.
Why Atheism Exists—and Why Faith Endures
Experiences like mine illuminate why atheism emerges—not from a rejection of God, but from disillusionment with humanity’s distortion of divine truth. Twisted religion drives many away, leaving deep spiritual wounds. Yet, for some of us, faith endures—not because of religion, but despite it. Because we know, through moments like mine, that something greater is at work, something that sees us in our lowest moments, something that answers not through ritual and punishment, but through quiet miracles in the dead of night.
Belief can’t be forced; it must be chosen. For every person who walks away from God, there’s a story like mine—a story of rediscovery, resilience, and unwavering hope.
Most importantly, real faith is not about blind obedience to twisted rituals or institutional dogma. It’s a deeply personal journey, one that thrives even amidst confusion and hardship. It’s about discovering moments of grace amid the chaos, recognizing miracles in ordinary days, and finding strength to continue believing despite the world’s relentless challenges.
God didn’t abandon us; He gave us free will. Free will allows us to discern truth from distortion and to find Him even when humanity tries its hardest to obscure His presence.
For those who’ve been wounded by religion, know this: your struggle is seen, your pain is valid, and your journey back to faith—however winding—is worthy and welcome. Hold on to those moments of clarity, miracles in your darkest hours, for they are whispers from God who never stopped listening.
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“The Bible itself—rich, profound, and complex—is not always an easy read, and that’s exactly what church communities are supposed to help with: to guide, clarify, and teach. But too often, that’s not what happens. Too often, organized religion becomes the obstacle instead of the bridge.”
This is a true statement, John. Some of the Bible, like portions of the Psalms and the gospels are like easy to digest food to me; they are comforting and filling and easily understood. Other sections will be pondered upon by theologians and layman alike until Jesus comes back again. Chapters like Daniel 7 and sections of many of the prophetic words in both New and Old Testament have been and will continue to be long debated. I have been reading the Bible for much of my life, and I still feel like I’ve only scratched the surface when it comes to Bible knowledge.
I grew up in the Lutheran Church (LCMS) and feel like much of the teaching there guided, clarified, and taught at that time. Now, at 67, we live in a completely different religious environment than we did just 50 years ago. When I was young most people who went to church went to one of the mainline denominational churches. Those of us who were protestant went to Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Assemblies of God, and Lutheran churches among others. And there was the Catholic Church which I didn’t learn much about until I was in my teens.
I can’t speak about the Catholic church during my early days but over the years all the mainline protestant churches now have major problems that once didn’t exist. These churches were once founded on basic Christian theology that they all agreed upon. They were only separated by minor things that had nothing to do with clear Biblical doctrines. Still, many majored in the minor things which caused the divisions. Still, I could have gone to most protestant churches at one time and been content. I can’t say that anymore. Over the years, people have walked away for many good reasons, including that the church has become more of a stage than a sanctuary. Many have walked away because basic things taught in the Bible are no longer important to the majority.
Many left and tried to find places where the leaders were led more by their convictions of Biblical principles. Some never found a place like that and it seems that places like the one I grew up in are harder than ever to find. Some left without any anger towards God but with the understanding that ungodly things had become too prevalent to a widespread degree.
Others left angry at God because of what people had done.
Everyone has wounds and questions and will have until the day they die. One would think that finding a place of worship that God could use to heal wouldn’t be so difficult, but it’s just the sad way things are.
There were even some people who joined churches hoping to help it become a better place. Many of those people left because their efforts became impossible as the problems never changed.
Over the years, and for good reasons, people left and went a myriad of different directions. Yet, as you mentioned, many never stopped loving Jesus.
There are still churches and men who are putting forth the effort to spread the gospel. They are getting harder to find.
Thank you for sharing your story, John. I know it is not always an easy thing to do. I agree that too often organized religion becomes an obstacle instead of a bridge. I also believe that the Bible that I study today is as close as it has ever been to the actual words that God inspired. There are a few scriptures not agreed upon by great scholars but not many.
Many institutions have taken those same scriptures and twisted them for their own purposes. As you noted, this has left scars on many people.
Your story is a perfect example. Your situation created deep confusion, not the clarity that we all desire. It sounds like many in your family were Catholic and that your father must have been in a protestant (maybe Pentecostal?) church because that is where the practice of speaking in tongues is prevalent. Please correct me if I am wrong. I do know that some Catholics used to practice speaking in tongues though it was a very small minority. Anyway, it does sound like it would be very confusing to anyone much less a young man.
In a good situation you would have enjoyed attending a church twice a week (or maybe not?). It seems like I was always in a church of some kind in my teen years, and they were some of the best years of my life because I was learning and people were changing. It was a time in my life when I felt the move of the Holy Spirit more than at any other time in my life. Oh, how I wish I could have those days back!
Even though I loved being around my Christian friends I never felt obligated (until later in life) to attend a church. There were no rules on how many times you needed to be in church. I do remember an experience at one of the house churches I visited as a teen. After the service where I heard them speaking in tongues I didn’t understand, the pastor’s daughter came up to me and told me that my faith wasn’t complete because I didn’t have a heavenly language. She must have invited me back, but I never went back. I figured if God wanted me to have such a gift that He would give it to me if I asked. I went home and went into the bathroom and asked God for the ability to speak in tongues. And nothing happened. So, I figured that wasn’t a gift that God wanted me to have. Granted, the entire thing was confusing and I must admit that I’ve never seen it happen as I now believe it to be explained in the Bible. There was one time I saw something close to what I believe happened in the early Church, but it was on a “Christian” T.V. station that talked about money 75% of the time so I dismissed it.
What you described as “physical discipline” is horrid. How any Christian would treat children like that is beyond me. Your story reminded me of these verses in Matthew:
18 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2 And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, 3 and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me; 6 but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.
And Romans 2 says:
4 Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?
You were completely correct (and brave) in telling them what they were doing was not of the Holy Spirit.
I cannot understand the kind of abuse you describe because I never experienced it. I can see how it would mess someone up for a long time. I can see how it would confuse you in all the ways you describe. I have learned, after many years, that people I grew up with had similar experiences. Way back then some of the same types of cruelties were happening in families that seemed normal. I was just a young kid delivering newspapers to the neighborhood and everything looked okay to me at the time. Little did I know some of the evil going on behind the facades.
There was a young kid who lived next door to me who, like you, was forced to navigate life largely alone. His parents were never home, and I found out later that he spent many nights hiding under his bed. Thanks to my mom he always had a spot on the corner of our already crowded dinner table. I never knew he was scared because he was so much bigger than I was, but my mom knew and she helped him as much as she could.
I understand the divine intervention you speak of. I felt I had no choice but to leave the church where I eventually ended up serving as an adult. It was my livelihood and I didn’t know what I was going to do but I couldn’t stay. Too many things that caused confusion were going on. I ended up in a secular job which eventually led to other things. Along the way there were difficult decisions that had to be made. More than a few times I was in a good deal of pain. Looking back now, I can see the miraculous intervention of God as He brought me through it.
Through the years I had my ups and downs but my faith was always there. I never lost my interest in the Bible. It never let me down. I can well relate to your comment about the world letting you down. I have experienced that in many ways. I have found that God’s statement found in both testaments “I will never leave you nor forsake you” to be a truth that I will believe to the end no matter what happens.
Thanks for sharing. Your post brought back thoughts of many things that God has done for me, particularly what Jesus did for me over 2,000 years ago on a cross.
Thank you very much, Chris! That kind of honesty only comes from someone who’s wrestled with faith, history, church, and pain — and still chose to hold onto Jesus through it all.
You’re absolutely right — the Bible is as rich as it is difficult, and it was never meant to be filtered through gatekeepers who replace understanding with stage lights. What you said about the Church becoming an obstacle instead of a bridge? That hit. Because for too many of us, that’s exactly what it became.
From the confusion I carried as a kid to the contradictions I saw between scripture and the behavior of those “in charge,” I’ve often said: the Bible never broke me — but people using it like a weapon came close.
And yes, you’re spot on about my background. My father and his friend said they were hardcore Christians and were in a Pentecostal/charismatic environment — while parts of my family were Catholic. What should’ve been a grounding foundation became a battleground. I didn’t need doctrine — I needed love. I was a kid. I didn’t need guilt — I needed God. And you know what? That’s still true today for a lot of people.
Your story, especially the part about the kid next door — that hit hard. I was that kid. Not under a bed, but hidden behind silence and survival. It’s people like your mom that changed lives quietly. People who didn’t quote verses — they lived them.
I really appreciate you sharing what you did, Chris. It’s voices like yours that remind others they’re not crazy for questioning, and they’re not alone for walking out of places that no longer looked like Christ.
I greatly appreciate your words, your time, and the heart behind it all. 😎
You’re welcome, John. Like you, I am happy to share my experiences if even one person can benefit. Thankfully, there are people out there who share the fruits of the Holy Spirit described in Galatians 5:22-23: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I look in the mirror and am reminded that everyone falls short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23). At the same time, I have seen many who have had their lives changed by God’s grace and mercy. Some who were seen as some of the worst are now so much more consistent and balanced in their lives because of God’s blessings. May God help us to continue to read His Word and make an effort to understand even the things that are mysteries.
I’m reminded of these words from 1 Corinthians:
12 “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
Thank you, Chris — your words always carry both depth and grace. I couldn’t agree more. Those fruits of the Spirit you mentioned — they’re the evidence of real transformation, not just religious affiliation. And you’re right: even the people society once labeled as the “worst” can become the most consistent reflections of God’s grace. That’s the kind of redemption that religion alone can’t manufacture — it’s the fingerprint of the Holy Spirit.
I love that you brought in Romans 3:23 and 1 Corinthians 13. That reminder — that we only see dimly now — is humbling and grounding at the same time. We don’t have all the answers, but we’re known by the One who does. That’s enough to keep walking, keep learning, and keep extending that same grace to others. 😎
You’re welcome, John, and thank you for your kind reply. I like the term “fingerprint of the Holy Spirit.” With your permission, I think I’d like to use that sometime.
I’m glad you like it! You have my permission to use it. 😎
Thank you!
You’re welcome, Chris! Have a great night. 😎
And suffering the “unsettling mix of control and fanaticism” and sheer abuse in the name of discipline with your dad and his church circle would have surely been enough to drive me away from attending ANY church thereafter! Dear God what are people thinking when they do that kind of thing?!? It’s unthinkable behavior IMHO!
I’m so sorry that happened to you, John!
Thank you, Sheila — that truly means a lot. Yeah… what happened back then took years to unpack. When abuse is dressed up as faith, it leaves a different kind of scar. I didn’t even have the language for it for a long time — just this quiet anger and confusion that followed me everywhere. But sharing it now feels like finally cutting off the weight they tried to tie to my spirit.
I’m grateful you see it for what it was. And I promise — what they did never broke my faith. If anything, it made me fight harder to separate God from the noise people created in His name. 🙏😎
I’m sooo glad what they did never broke your spirit, John. Now, I get it. It happened FOR you not TO you. Aha!
That means a lot, Sheila — truly. And you’re absolutely right: it took me a long time to see it that way. But once I realized it happened for me and not to me, the whole story shifted. The pain didn’t disappear — but the purpose got clearer. 😎
I hear you, John. I believe your on your way though—to release the pain. When you can remember the lesson (and can retell the story), without feeling the emotional trigger, you’ve cleared the pain/suffering!
Oh and I’m streaming literal TEARS reading about the three twenty dollar bills!!!
That means so much, Sheila — thank you for saying that. That moment with the three twenties still brings tears to my own eyes every time I think about it. It wasn’t just money — it was reassurance. It was a whisper from God saying, “I see you. I’ve got you.” And it came exactly when I needed it most.
Sometimes the smallest miracles carry the loudest message. I’m grateful it reached you the way it reached me. 😎
AbSOULutely, John! It’s astounding and astonishing and all of that. Better than pennies from Heaven, which I have heard of many times. But the gift given YOU was sooo pointed—as you say, exactly what you needed! I love it so much!
Sheila — thank you so much for saying that! It really was one of those moments that stops you in your tracks — not just because it happened, but because it was so precise. I was quite shocked at the time it happened, and grateful at the same time. 😎
You’ve really nailed it here, John! Wow! I will reblog this because I found truth in every line! Right from the beginning I found myself wanting to copy it into my comment:
“Some people don’t leave God. They leave the mess made in His name.
For decades, the church was supposed to be a refuge — a place for healing, truth, and transformation. But more and more, people are walking away. Not out of rebellion. Not out of apathy. But because the place that claimed to carry God’s presence felt more like a stage than a sanctuary. Because the message was drowned out by manipulation, the doctrine weaponized to control, and the leaders exposed in scandal after scandal — while telling the faithful to keep quiet and just “pray harder.””
Thank you so much, Sheila — truly. It means a lot that those words spoke to you so directly. Writing about the things I’ve carried for years hasn’t always been easy — especially the parts of my past I’ve struggled to express. But in this case, I knew I had to. Not just for me, but for so many others out there who’ve felt the same.
And when it comes to atheism, I believe that’s exactly why God speaks so often about forgiveness — even for our enemies. Because He understands what people go through, what they carry, and what they’ve had twisted in His name.
Hearing that this resonated with you reminds me why I had to write it the way I did — for the ones who walked away, not from God, but from the damage done under His banner. I’m honored you’re reblogging it, and even more grateful to connect with those who truly see it for what it is.
Thank you again, as always — it’s deeply appreciated.
The “pray harder” REALLY got me, John. You don’t even want to know how many times I was told that when I lived with a backsliding husband. Ugh!
Oh, and also that I should “fast (from food) while praying” too! I was a codependent (back then) and always made to feel even more guilty by hearing those sorts of things from pastors and preachers.
I hear you loud and clear, Sheila! That “pray harder” line has been weaponized far too often — as if pain is proof of weak faith, or suffering means you’re not spiritual enough. And adding “fast while you’re at it”? That’s not guidance — that’s guilt wrapped in scripture.
I’m really sorry you had to carry that weight, especially while already dealing with a backsliding husband. You deserved support, not shame. And sadly, too many leaders traded compassion for control, leaving people like you, me, and so many others shouldering burdens God never asked us to carry.
This is me to the hilt and why I now call myself a Spiritual Anarchist. I believe in the power of God, I don’t have any faith in humans.
That’s a powerful way to put it, Michael — and I think a lot of people feel the same. “Spiritual Anarchist” says it perfectly. 😎
Thank you John.
You’re welcome, Michael! Just a heads-up — I’ll be dropping another major article soon. This one’s even more important. And if we’re 100% right… the years leading into 2100 aren’t going to be good.
People may fail, but Jesus never does. He’s not the abuse, the silence, or the shame. He’s the one still standing when everyone else walks away.
That’s powerful, Willie — and so true. People will fail, systems will corrupt, and voices will fall silent… but Jesus doesn’t. He’s not the pain they caused in His name — He’s the healing they tried to bury. He stays when others abandon. He restores what others broke. And He loves without conditions — even when we’re too hurt to recognize it.
Thank you for saying that. Truth like that needs to be heard. 😎
Jesus love is so profound, and He’s always there, even when everything else crumbles. It’s easy to forget that in the midst of pain, but He is the constant and the comfort we need. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share it.
Beautifully said, Willie — and thank you for sharing that. You’re right: in the middle of pain, confusion, and heartbreak, it’s easy to lose sight of the one thing that never changes — His love. I hope you have a great night and a peaceful week ahead! 😎