Chapter 3 - A Sacred Encounter

Two years had passed since I walked away from church. I was still keeping my distance from anything that looked like spiritual community. And yet, deep down, something in me quietly hoped. I wasn’t sure what I was hoping for exactly—but I longed to feel connected again. I missed God, even if I couldn’t say that out loud yet.

Trans ī re by Fredrik Raddum

One evening, two childhood friends invited me over for dinner. At first, they didn’t come with spiritual agendas or plans to “bring me back to Jesus.” They just made a meal, asked about my life, and listened. There was no pressure, no hidden motive—just kindness. Through them, I met another couple who slowly began spending time with me. We shared meals, went on walks, had simple conversations that didn’t feel particularly spiritual at the time, but ended up being quietly healing. Their presence was consistent. Safe. Real.

Eventually, they invited me into their house church—a small group that met in their home to worship, take communion, read Scripture, and pray together. There was no stage, no lights, no show. It was just people being honest, making space for God to meet us in the middle of our messy, everyday lives.

That space became the beginning of a new kind of spiritual family for me. No one expected me to have it all together. No one handed me a spiritual recovery plan or asked me to clean myself up before I could belong. They simply made room for me. I was still broken. Still wrestling. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was loved—and that I was lovable.

One day, a friend I had just met, from the house church said something to me that I’ll never forget. His words pierced straight through me. He named things I had only ever shared with Jesus—truths I hadn’t spoken to anyone else. And yet there they were, spoken out loud by someone who couldn’t have known. I can’t explain how it happened, but I knew in that moment that God saw me. I was known. And more than that—I was not alone.

That experience shifted something inside me. It changed the way I saw God—not as a distant idea or a religious system, but as someone kind, present, and deeply personal. Someone who had been with me through every moment of silence and suffering.

Trust didn’t return because of doctrine or theology. It started to grow again through presence. Through empathy. Through people who stayed.

Chapter 4 coming soon

Next: A seed was planted… and the calling I thought I had lost began to stir again.