Why I Still Believe (Even After Leaving the Church)

I never thought I’d leave the church, after all, I was brought up in the church since my late father was a pastor. Throughout most of my life, Sunday mornings meant pews and hymnals, the rituals of communion and baptism, and the after-service coffee hour with fellowship. Sunday morning church was woven into the rhythm of my week—until it wasn’t.

Over time, I began to feel a growing ache. Not with God, but with the way faith was being used. When voices I trusted cheered on behavior that felt anything but Christ-like… when compassion was replaced by control… when grace gave way to power—I couldn’t stay.

So I left, without regret.

But I didn’t leave Jesus and his teachings of love, compassion, or empathy. I didn’t leave the quiet awe I feel when I stand in the beauty of nature, or when the stars brightly caress the midnight sky, or when tears fall gently in prayer.

I still believe.

I believe in kindness as a sacred act. In truth, spoken gently. In the presence of God found not in sanctuaries, but perhaps more importantly in sunrises and sunsets, and shared humanity.

Leaving the church didn’t mean leaving faith—it meant choosing to carry it differently.

And I know I’m not alone.

That’s why I’ve created this new space within The Soulful Cottage. A soft space. A space for those of us who still long for the sacred—but not the systems that left us weary.

If you’re somewhere between belief and rebuilding, between reverence and rest… welcome. You belong here.

We may not have a steeple overhead, but we still have sanctuary. Right here. Right now.

And maybe that’s where faith begins again.

With gentle blessings and hope,

Beth