We're Not
Playing Church

Nobody warns you what it feels like to leave the world for real. They sell it like a calm invitation. But when you’ve lived in sin—using addiction, sex, control, rage, numbness just to survive—coming to Christ feels violent. It feels like something inside you is being killed. Because it is.

Jesus didn’t say “improve yourself.” He said deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow Me. That’s death. That’s execution. That’s the public killing of your old life.

You wake up missing the very things that were killing you. You crave the habits that almost destroyed you. That tension feels unbearable. It feels like you’re dying again and again. Because the version of you that learned to survive in darkness doesn’t want to go quietly.

You’re not losing your mind. You’re in the middle of deliverance. And it’s lonely. The people still living in the world don’t understand why you won’t come back. And the people who’ve always been in church don’t understand the violence it took to get free.

So you walk with God alone sometimes. Shaking. Angry. Crying. Still saying yes. The battle doesn’t mean you’re failing. The battle means the chains are broken and your flesh is panicking.

God is tearing down old foundations soaked in sin and survival. He’s rebuilding you with something stronger. If you keep saying yes—through the pain, through the killing, through the violence of transformation—you will not recognize who you used to be. That’s what happens when someone refuses to quit on Jesus.