If You Are Questioning Leaving Your IFB Church, This Letter is For You

Dear Friend,

No, we haven't met, although there's a good chance that if you're reading this, we've lived very similar lives. That being said, I'm not going to pretend that, even with the similarities, I know what you have been through. I just want to say I see you.

You, who are struggling, carrying the heavy burden of indecision, of fear, of the unknown.

You, who feel miserable, wondering when that started and where that misery came from.

I see you.

You, who are tired, downtrodden, forcing your head to stay above water. Confused on why The Master of The Sea has even allowed you to start drowning in the first place.

You, who feel guilty, ashamed and discouraged. Wondering, why you just can't be happy, serve your god, be a Christian.

You, who past memories haunt, are relived every day. The wounds of abuse still feel so raw and you wonder when they'll ever start to scab over, scar. Heal.

I see you. And I weep with you.

You, who feel that the Bible you've heard preached doesn't add up to the Jesus within its pages. 

You, who have tons of questions. Will this end? Will it change? Can I stick it out? Is it possible to be thankful and push through? Will I still hear God's voice, remain in His will if I leave? Or will I face His judgment?

I've faced the same questions and I'm here to say, I see you. 

You, who are so, so tired. Ready to throw the towel in, accept your current circumstances and the possibility that you'll never be fulfilled. 

You, who were born and raised, your parents are in the church, your siblings, too. This is all you have ever known, I know. It was all I knew, too.

You, who love your Independent Fundamental Baptist church and the people in it. And wonder if the problem is not them, but somehow you.

You, who just by reading this know that it's for a reason. Not that my words have some power to connect. But, that you were searching in the first place.

You, who have given your all, tried your hardest, did your best.

I see you. I grieve for you. I was you. 

I see you trying to make that unbelievably hard decision.

I'm not here to tell you what you should do, to make you leave. Only you can make the jump.

I'm just here to say, I see you. 

Your friend, 

Lydia Joy 

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