Note from Team LO: We are SO excited to bring you this month’s blog from our LO sister member, Brookelyn Hinton! Enjoy today’s post from Brookelyn. 🙂 

Growing up, there was a place I called home. A place of safety. A place of peace. Here, I felt known. But to be known wasn’t a bad thing. I loved my dad working here. I knew my way through this building backwards and forwards. This was truly my favorite place to be. My family was here day and night, but it was amazing. Sunday mornings were what I looked forward to. I would wake up smiling from ear to ear, hurrying to slip on my Sunday dress. This place called “church” felt so cozy. At times, it reminded me of cuddling up by a warm fire. 

Until one day, the whole atmosphere changed. It became cold. In just one morning, everything seemed so different. The shining bright light that hovered above every head had changed this dark cloud. I faced the hard truth that not everyone in church is perfect. Suddenly, I was saying goodbye to people one by one. This truth kept repeating itself. People fail, and people leave.  

The situations endured in this setting forever changed how I viewed the church. What once felt like home now felt foreign. It seemed like all I had ever known was stripped away, like a Band-Aid from an open wound. Ouch. Why did this hurt so bad? Why was it that these people who once were so perfect in my eyes were the ones who caused this pain? 

I no longer woke up with any excitement on Sunday mornings. Instead, there was this heavy weight on my chest that just never would leave. With the weight came warm tears that would roll down my face as I slowly got ready to enter the place that caused me so much heartache. 

I would begin to drown in my thoughts. “Who is going to fail me today? How would this person everyone called God, allow fallen leaders to guide me? Is this God as loving as He seems? ” But no. I can’t. I can’t think of these things. Everyone is watching me. The only thing I could do was wipe away the tears and force a smile onto my face. My eyes flickered from person to person, I could not help but think each one would soon hurt me. I was in pain deeper than I gave myself credit for. 

From what everyone else saw, I was perfectly fine. I loved Jesus. I went to church. I always smiled. She’s great. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. My relationship with God became estranged. But I was good at making it seem like I had it all together. To be honest, I had convinced myself, too. I knew all the right answers. I knew to raise my hands in worship. I knew exactly what everyone wanted me to do. Beginning to feel like a stranger in my own body, I continued to live this life way longer than I should have. 

Along came more change in my life. We left the church I thought I would stay in forever. This was a big step for my family. Our whole lives were woven into every part of this place, like a basket with intricate details. Everything I had ever known was this church. My parents worked there. My grandparents worked there. And truthfully, I thought I would work there too. And we were now saying goodbye, walking into the unknown. 

The weight I once carried was getting lighter. Stepping back from the church, my family took time to heal. There were wounds my parents and I had shared, but I never understood the deepest wound I had caused myself. Unforgiveness. I realized that because of my unforgiving heart, I no longer had a close relationship with the Lord. 

That summer, I attended a summer camp that I went to every year. This place felt like the only place I could be myself, both broken and healed. I came in completely confused, angry, and hurt. Feeling like a lost sheep, I walked into the place where the Lord truly found me. He met me in the sweetest moment, but it wasn’t when I was lifting my hands or doing the same old rituals I had adapted to. The Lord met me sitting on the gym floor, with tears streaming down my face, being comforted by someone who had an amazing impact on my life. She sat with me in silence while I worked out every problem I ever encountered in my walk with God. At that moment, I realized I was loved. I was seen. I was healed. 

Now, my family and I attend a place that has been so refreshing. A place that fills me with excitement and joy for the Lord. The simplicity found within this church is healing. Through this healing process, I am learning to trust the Lord with my brokenness, allowing Him to piece my heart together. In 2 Corinthians 5:17, an old creation is made new. I am made new. The old me was wrapped in a cocoon of mistrust, but the new me is emerging: fresh, renewed, soaring.  

Throughout this journey, my relationship with God has changed in numerous ways. It is no longer dependent on others, but rooted in the Word. Church is no longer just a building, but a group of people striving to achieve the same goal. Jeremiah 29:13 says, “You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” In this scripture, I see that the way to Jesus is simple: you seek Him and find Him. When I felt so distant from the Lord, it wasn’t because he abandoned me, but because I was walking farther away from Him. Like a ship lost at sea, I drifted away from where I was meant to be. Then the light of Jesus spoke truth and guidance into my life. Through every storm He was teaching me a lesson. Finally I learned to seek faith in God and not people and my faith began to grow.  

While my salvation isn’t found in other people, accountability and biblical community is very important. In Acts 2, when the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, the believers built a strong community on fire for the Lord. Each person devoted themself to the apostle’s teaching, prayer, and fellowship. In return, the number of this community grew daily. I began to understand a beautiful example of what the church should be. Now I plant myself in a community with a passion for what Jesus has in store. These people push me to learn and understand the Word of God and its importance. 

Looking back on the things I’ve walked through, I truly see how the Lord was working through it all. Through every tear, every forced smile, and every broken relationship, He was watering a seed that would soon begin to flourish. At times when it felt like the Lord did not hear my cry, I can see where He was working. Because He was working through my life, I now know my faith isn’t found in a building or other people, but found in the One who met me on the gym floor, in the middle of my mess, and called me His.