John 13:34–35 “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
Hello, my name is Hashlay. This is my story of dealing with perverted love and perverted justice in a church that looks pure on the outside but is anything but that when you look inside the bowl. My heart in sharing this is threefold:
- To expose evil (Ephesians 5:11)
- To warn people who are in the church or considering joining it (Proverbs 4:14–15)
- To emphasize that true freedom and joy are found in obedience to Christ, not by blindly following the blind.
My first beginnings with Antioch started with a co-worker I met in October 2018. I wasn’t a believer or even a fan of her when we first met, but as the Lord softened my heart toward her, she became a good friend to me. I eventually got saved in February of 2019 when I started watching Ray Comfort share the gospel. At first, I was offended but then fascinated by hearing the gospel.
My co-worker then became my connection to Antioch by inviting me to my first Antioch church service in June 2019. It wasn’t what I was looking for at the time, so I didn’t attend any more services that year. It wasn’t until September 2020 that I really started to get connected.
In 2020, there was a huge wave of people who left because of Covid, Black Lives Matter, and the pastor switching the church away from being hyper-charismatic. However, I wasn’t aware of a lot of this since I only went to the hangouts and different activities during the holiday season.
Shortly after going to the church, I met my friend SJ and found out she was sleeping at a carwash because all her roommates had Covid and no one offered her a place to stay. I kindly opened my home to her, and eventually down the road she returned the favor when my lease expired. This was my first taste of a discipleship home in February 2021, for a month and a half.
Before I ever got to know these women, I was moving in with them, trusting that Christian women would be different than worldly women. It was no longer just me; it was me and four other women. This is where the veil was beginning to be torn. I thought at first it was just this home. But in April 2021 a woman got married, and I was then invited to live in my first official discipleship home with six other women.
I was only there from April to June because there was tension between the owner of the discipleship home and the girls renting, all of us attending the same church and living together. She felt her home was being trashed. People were invited over until late without discussion, and the space wasn’t honored. I can attest that I had to deal with random people freely walking in at all hours of the day to do quiet time or stay up late with roommates right outside my room door. The woman who owned the house and lived with us decided it wasn’t worth owning a discipleship home anymore.
Then in June 2021 I moved to my second official discipleship home. I was given a room without four fully closed walls. My room had a hole in the wall where you could see inside from the stairs. I will admit in that house I did have some bitterness. I was constantly sleep deprived because the girls would come home around 12 a.m.–2 a.m. They would slam the front door and stomp up the stairs. And by 4 a.m., before I could fall asleep fully, someone would be making breakfast in the kitchen.
This house also had an open-door policy, so men could walk in whenever. When I brought up the fact that they had all agreed to pitch in to seal up the hole, they said they were planning to commit to that at first, but then it turned into pocket-watching and nitpicking things I spent my money on, saying I could afford it myself. Something that was promised to be great turned into not-great living conditions.
During our lease renewal in June 2022, I let the girls know that because of the continual discomfort I felt in that room, I no longer felt comfortable enough to renew the lease and stay in that house.
It ended up working out for us because Cru members moved out of a beautiful home, which became the Estate, and our roommate had a connection. One decided to stay behind in the Spring house and have three girls replace five of us. One roommate, RG, during this process was pushed out of the church. So the remaining three and I moved into the Estate.
Looking back, I remember when roommates would gossip about RG during “roomie meetings.” They would talk about her sin when she wasn’t there to defend herself. I would try my best to defend her and to remind the girls not to have conversations about her when she wasn’t around to defend or correct misinformation.
The girls’ response would be, “We’re only talking about this because it’s concerning to us.” I would encourage them to just speak directly to her if there was a concern. But because this was a repeated conversation throughout different meetings, this should have been a red flag for me. Still, I continued and moved into another home with these women. I couldn’t tell you any logical reason why I did.
Now there are many toxic things I can talk about that went down in this house. I am going to share a few as I believe that things hidden in the dark should be exposed for the purpose of healing to take place. And if you think it gets bad, the fact that the single men at the church would constantly joke about how the women’s houses loved drama should tell you how public this dysfunction was in the church.
The gossip did not stop, and unnecessary tension only grew at the new Estate house. It started with accusations in late 2022 that I secretly wanted my friend’s boyfriend and could hypothetically have an affair in 10–15 years with him. This was completely unwarranted because she knew he was like a brother to me. When I sought counsel from an older roommate, she twisted my words and spread gossip, nearly destroying the friendship.
One night in 2023, this same older roommate, after planning days ahead to use the kitchen to bake muffins for my Saturday ADS class, cursed at me, screamed hysterically, and threatened me over something she had already agreed to. That same roommate, later twisted a past sin addiction against me, accusing me of being a predator. She constantly made subtle comments about my struggles and even said she felt unsafe talking casually with me in the house.
Even after admitting it was “a lie from the enemy” the first time, she continued to repeat it in front of roommates. She also lied about me to Elders and was caught in meetings we had to have repeatedly with them.
Another time in 2023, I brought my grieving friend over after she lost a family member. I wanted to pray with her and offer comfort. She was wrestling with her faith at the time. Leaders and the pastor had just encouraged me to continue being a light in her life because I wasn’t sure if I could because she left the church. I let my roommates know she was coming over in our house group chat.
Once I brought her to the discipleship house, the atmosphere became tense due to a former fractured relationship with someone who was there at the time, something I hadn’t been aware of. So we left. Later, while I was away from home, a roommate on the Italy mission trip messaged our house group chat, exposing this friend’s private sin and then made accusations towards me, claiming I was complicit in her sin. She accused me of caring more about laughing with her than about her spiritual state with the Lord.
When I confronted the cruelty, this roommate lashed out at me for responding in the same group chat where she had exposed the person’s sin. She demanded repentance. My actions were pre-judged, and there was no compassion. It turned into me overexplaining myself instead of being met with grace. This had to be done over a video call with her and another roommate who jumped into the argument. Afterwards, they apologized for assuming and accusing, saying they would never do it again.
But in 2024 the infamous roommate meetings began. They revealed no true repentance. Instead of encouragement, they became ambushes where everyone criticized me at once. I often sat in silence with tears streaming down my face and a growing feeling of discouragement. My repeated pleas for healthier communication were ignored.
In early 2025, I entered one of the darkest seasons of my life. The girls were at my neck every day about something. I started to spend a lot of time with my family, away from home and church events. I contemplated suicide, and no one knew except some in leadership and a few close friends outside the house.
I didn’t share with my roommates because they were one of the reasons I felt hopeless. The pastor knew because of my leaders, and he put me in the middle of the Lifegroup for prayer when I hadn’t asked for the attention and didn’t feel comfortable with people knowing. At the same time, there was tension in my Lifegroup. Every time I went, my life would be picked apart with questions about why I didn’t have a driver’s license, or why I wasn’t where they thought I should be at my age. It added to my learned helplessness.
Around March 2025, I internally wanted to leave the church. At the same time, one of my roommates, V, decided she wanted to leave. When she mentioned it, they were quick to ask her to move out. This made me nervous and fearful. I didn’t want to be kicked out and homeless. I also genuinely cared about the women and wanted to work out my relationship with them, even if I eventually moved elsewhere.
I confided in a friend and co-worker about my depression and suicidal thoughts. I told her I felt spiritually oppressed. Instead of compassion, she called it selfish and told me to stop focusing on myself by asking others about their day. I tried to explain that I had just listened to her day, and that oppression and depression are not the same. I even shared that for weeks I didn’t know how I got out of bed or made it through the day, that some days I thought I’d rather go to hell than keep failing God.
Instead of encouragement or prayer, she said she was tired of hearing about my struggles. Later, when I confided in her again asking for prayer for strong temptation, she said she would not be praying for me. She told me I should just go all the way because the sin was clearly something I would not gain freedom from.
This started to push me to think I no longer wanted to be part of this community. She eventually reached out to apologize after I told her I was tired of her outbursts of anger and lack of grace when I shared with her in confidence. Later, I found out leaders had told her not to speak to me until they had “dealt with me.” They never reached out. They never tried to reconcile. Ironically, when I finally left the church, they sent her to “restore me to Christ,” even though I never left Him.
What finally pushed me over the edge with living in a discipleship home was something that happened with my roommate who had first invited me into the church. One night, after I mentioned going on a potential date and possibly getting home late, she decided to ask me a bunch of invasive questions. Instead of asking me privately if she genuinely had concerns, she started insinuating things and pressing me with questions in front of her fiancé.
I told her I wasn’t comfortable with the insinuations being made in front of him and that we could discuss my plans later. But she kept pressing. When her fiancé stepped away, she accused me of being selfish and a bad friend for not helping her plan her wedding, even though she had said she wouldn’t begin until July.
The conversation went from her concerns about my plans to her wedding issues, with nothing being resolved. She went on to say we weren’t on the same level spiritually, emotionally, or personally anymore. I reminded her that any relationship takes effort from both sides. The conversation went in circles, so I stepped away to make a scheduled phone call.
A couple of hours later, she and showed up at my door. The original roommate had convinced herself I was planning to spend the weekend at a guy’s house and was “living in gross immorality.” said they were going to report me to leadership. I explained nothing sinful or inappropriate was happening, but they persisted. I told them that they were believing a false narrative, but they can ‘do what they gotta do’ and closed the door.
By the next morning, I had messages from people in Japan, Colombia, and the U.S., warning me that what I was doing would “sear my conscience” and “hurt my heart against the Lord.” What had started as “concerns” for leadership turned into gossip and slander.
I confronted them individually, reiterating that their narrative was false. They had never come to me for clarity or even given me time to calm down from the emotional call I had just had. Still, no apologies came. Instead, the original friend began texting me about her bridal party, and I realized she was removing me as a bridesmaid.
I told her I didn’t care about the role; I cared about our friendship. She confirmed I was out of the bridal party without apologizing. It was cruel. To weaponize her wedding day to make me submit to her ideals instead of sitting with me in grace after years of friendship.
I tried to follow Matthew 18, confronting gossip and slander, bringing witnesses, and alerting leadership. They promised to address it but never did. When I asked why, I was told the women were grieved and had “repented” to the Lifegroup leaders. Later, I was told by she would not speak to me until I resolved my “conflict” with leadership, a conflict I wasn’t even privy to.
My final attempt was to address the church’s lack of repentance and ownership through a close friends’ group on Instagram. This led to friends and members confronting me, saying I was wrong, and leaders insisting repentance had already happened on my behalf. They even claimed they would have allowed me to call those girls out from the pulpit, even though by then I had left and the shunning from members had already started.
Over the years, gossip, jealousy, and false accusations replaced encouragement and truth. Disagreeing meant being labeled prideful. Many women in these houses share the same story: bullying, isolation, and constant criticism disguised as discipleship. Some even wear it as a badge of honor that they “endured until marriage.” But enduring dysfunction is not maturity.
And yet, the Word of God remains true: love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:7). What I experienced in that church was not love. It was worldly behavior dressed up in righteousness.
Through it all, I saw how quick leaders and peers were to label people as burdens, prideful, or spiritually weak, while refusing to examine their own actions. They preached in the community but practiced exclusion. They preached love but modeled judgment. They preached endurance but created despair.
The same leaders who had used triangulation and avoidance were now accepting repentance on people’s behalf. What was supposed to be a place of discipleship and support had become toxic, judgmental, and manipulative.
As ridiculous as these things sound, it stems from the root. The root of this church is unqualified and disqualified leadership. The majority of the leaders started off as college students in the church and were elevated quickly into leadership roles, which is against what the Bible warns against.
I believe this strategy was done so the pastor could remain in control and have yes-men for his vision. This practice has continued for over 14 years. Young college students come in with agnostic, atheist, zero faith, or weak faith backgrounds, but as long as they are blindly obedient to the pastor, he will give them a leadership position.
This is obvious because the leaders never confront the pastor, or they are very quick to defend him for his misuse of the pulpit for gossiping and boasting about accomplishments, and unchecked bullying of church members behind the scenes, which has been well known and well documented throughout his leadership. The Bible confronts cowardice in Revelation, warning that the cowardly will be first to face judgment because they were apathetic, lukewarm, and complacent in the face of grave sin. Because of this, I wonder what the leaders actually believe regarding the gospel and their roles in the church.
These leaders often act as the pastor’s “yes-men,” sent to confront members, silence questioners, or be his eyes and ears. I might pity them if it weren’t for the many times I’ve heard them admit privately that they actually agreed with the people they were sent to rebuke or disagreed with the pastor. That awareness should have led to confrontation, but instead, it produced cowardice and apathy.
Not only did these leaders fail to stand up against wrongdoing in the church, but many also carried their own forms of corruption. One of the most manipulative tools they used was the phrase: “To the measure of your vulnerability is the measure of your freedom.” I heard this repeatedly during my five years at Antioch Orlando. It was presented as wisdom, but in practice, it was a way for leaders to gain control. Whatever you confessed in private could later be twisted into a weapon against you, especially if you chose to leave. Vulnerability, for them, wasn’t about freedom—it was about manipulation.
The imbalance was obvious. Leaders demanded vulnerability from congregants but rarely practiced it themselves. They expected members to bare their deepest secrets while offering only vague, surface-level testimonies of their own lives.
I’ll never forget one incident. My life group leaders once picked me up from a bus stop under the guise of giving me a ride home. I told them upfront how exhausted I was and how thankful I felt not having to wait for an Uber. But instead of taking me home, they drove me to their house and kept me there until midnight. During that time, the husband asked invasive, hypersexual questions about lust and sin while his wife sat silently beside him. This wasn’t the first time he had asked such things. When I finally said I was uncomfortable, he insisted he needed to “fully understand my struggles” so they could help me find freedom. Later, they weaponized what I shared, framing my struggles as the “real reason” I left the church, even though I left because of doctrinal changes and the unhealthy culture. And they knew that.
That night revealed a pattern: leaders were quick to show up when it involved scandalous sins they wanted to probe into. But when I was suicidal the month before, they didn’t come themselves. Instead, they sent others. My harmful thoughts weren’t “interesting” enough to warrant attention. Yet whenever I fell into sexual sin, they rushed to meet me immediately.
At Antioch, vulnerability does not equal freedom. Vulnerability equals ammunition. The more you confess, the more they can hold against you. Submission was always their excuse. Anytime someone pushed back, leaders warned against pride, insisting we submit and trust them because they were “responsible for our salvation.” This is a distortion of Scripture. Leaders are to keep watch and protect the flock, not hold salvation in their hands.
I didn’t have the healthiest family growing up. I experienced abuse and dysfunction and carried that pain for years. After getting saved, the Lord pressed on my heart the importance of forgiveness—not just letting go, but processing grief alongside it so I could reach true freedom. I wanted my life to be a testimony of victory.
But I quickly realized I couldn’t do it alone. I had deep, painful, ongoing struggles I needed help processing. I knew I needed guidance to break free from strongholds in my life. That’s why I wanted Christian counseling. I researched qualified counselors, started budgeting, and prepared to take that step.
Then came the membership meeting. The pastor told me counseling sounded fine, but I needed to “exhaust my options” within the church first. Discipleship, he said, was basically the same as counseling: confess sins, share struggles, and receive Scripture and advice from your discipler.
I explained that some of my struggles were very explicit and potentially traumatizing for others to hear. I needed professional counseling. He brushed it off: “No, trust me. All the help you need is here at this church.”
That was 2022. By 2025, the help never came. I had friends I could talk to about some things, but for deeper struggles, there was no safe space. The only “help” I ever received was when I confessed sexual temptation or sin. Those meetings were hours of invasive questioning followed by maybe one or two verses to meditate on. They happen maybe once or twice a year. Instead of counseling, they felt like interrogations, unpacking painful details about lust, sexual thoughts, or childhood trauma without follow-up, resources, or professional guidance.
I noticed a pattern. The few people allowed to pursue outside counseling were always the most loyal, subservient members of the church. Leadership, especially the pastor, seemed to fear that external guidance might expose unhealthy dynamics. I believe part of it was narcissistic control. He didn’t want people to have access to help that could challenge his authority or reveal dysfunction.
Leadership’s priority was control over care. For years, I was discouraged from seeking counseling even though they knew I was struggling and needed professional guidance. Many women at the church struggle with depression, suicidal thoughts, and feelings of inadequacy, thinking they’ll never be good enough for the gospel or salvation. But the gospel isn’t about works; it’s about Jesus’s finished work. Denying proper counseling doesn’t just prevent healing; it can distort faith, twist perspectives of God, and perpetuate spiritual abuse.
Christian counseling is essential for those who are hurting. It provides a safe space to process trauma, receive guidance, and experience God’s healing. Leaders should encourage it, not suppress it out of control, pride, or fear of exposure. Denying it is not pastoral care; it’s manipulation.
Jesus, “Family”, “Missions”
Mission trips were a cornerstone of Antioch’s image. The church promoted domestic and international trips with videos, photos, and testimonies, creating the impression that many members were missionaries or evangelists. In reality, many students were pressured into attending. Leaders insisted that trips would deepen faith and bring one closer to Jesus, but mission trip burnout was common. Without a genuine foundation, participants went through motions and returned home spiritually unprepared. Some elders admitted they only recognized their faith after the trips.
The pastor’s repeated claims of being “the most hated man in the church” were not humility but manipulation. Healthy leaders do not repeatedly assert they are hated; they model Christlike leadership. Vulnerability was twisted into control. Members were expected to confess sins and struggles, but leaders rarely shared their own vulnerabilities. What was framed as discipleship became manipulation: “to the measure of your vulnerability is the measure of your freedom” was repeated constantly. Confessions became ammunition, not liberation.
Submission was weaponized. Any pushback against overreach was met with warnings against pride, insisting members submit because leaders were “responsible for our salvation.” This distorted Scripture. Leaders are accountable to God to watch over the flock, not to control salvation.
I didn’t have a healthy family growing up. I experienced abuse and dysfunction and carried that pain for years. After salvation, I realized the importance of forgiveness, processing grief alongside it to reach true freedom. I sought Christian counseling for deep, personal struggles that I could not handle alone. When I approached the pastor, he dismissed professional counseling, insisting that church-based discipleship was sufficient. By 2025, the help never materialized. Confession of sexual temptation or sin was addressed with hours of invasive questioning, minimal Scripture, and no professional guidance.
A pattern emerged: only the most loyal, obedient members were allowed to pursue outside counseling. Leadership feared exposure and loss of control. Denying proper counseling did not provide care—it perpetuated spiritual abuse. Christian counseling is essential for healing, processing trauma, and experiencing God’s restoration. Leaders should encourage it, not suppress it.
Another small testimony
Another way this church was very hypocritical, was in the way that they preached hospitality and serving others but when it came to practicing what they preached, they were not successful.
Another of the my first unsettling experiences after moving to Oviedo to live “in community” was learning that leaders had told people not to give me rides. Whether my job was five minutes or forty minutes away, asking for help was labeled “enabling me,” and some even speculated I’d leave the church one day, like others had in 2020. I stopped asking for help, worked longer hours to cover Uber fares, and stayed late to avoid surge pricing. When I finally shared this with others, many agreed it was wrong—but no one challenged the leaders or made it right.
In 2023, during my A.D.S. class, I spoke from the heart about feeling excluded—not because of my faith, but because I lacked the car, upbringing, and lifestyle many others shared. I emphasized that Christianity has no financial or situational mold and that creating one is un-Christlike. Afterward, some cutting remarks diminished, but I was still told by leaders that my loneliness was “inconvenient” for others. When I worked hard to become self-sufficient, saving for a car so I wouldn’t be a burden, I was then accused of pride and being too independent.
By mid-2024, even my efforts to avoid being a burden were criticized. People complained about my long work hours and said I wasn’t investing in friendships that had never been nurtured before. Loneliness and guilt returned, climaxing when my Lifegroup leader’s wife told me I was putting my job before God’s mission and suggested I quit, take a pay cut, and find work nearby to “be around the church more.” No matter what I did, I was criticized, made to feel inadequate, and trapped in impossible standards of obedience and availability.
My Final Thoughts
Now, I could share more of my testimony about being unloved by these people and how they had a form of hospitality that, in reality, was mean-spirited and ungodly. But instead, I want to focus on what I’ve come to realize after a few months of leaving that cult-like and dysfunctional environment.
I’m deeply afraid that, whether intentionally or not, the carelessness of the leadership will cause people to unravel their faith as they leave this church. Some may even abandon their belief in God entirely. It breaks my heart to think that many who remain there may only have a surface-level understanding of the gospel and may not truly know Him for themselves. When you are trapped in a spiritually abusive environment, your view of God becomes twisted. You start to wonder, If these people know God and they behave like this, why would I want to know Him? But God is jealous for His Bride. He loves her fiercely and desires her wholly. He does not stand idly by while His people are wounded, silenced, or manipulated.
To those who feel crushed under this weight, hear this clearly: these leaders are not following God. They may wear the appearance of godliness, but they deny its power. Whether through malice, ignorance, or deliberate control, they act as though they have the right to place a stranglehold on the Bride of Christ, suffocating her to maintain their power. They behave as if they alone can determine salvation, as if they have the authority to decide who is truly saved. Yet they show no fear of God, because they do not fear the harm they inflict on His body.
Even when members cry out, saying, “The things happening in this church are causing me to lose faith and trust in God because of how you’ve hurt me,” the typical response is defense, not repentance. Leadership there is disqualified. Some may genuinely be unaware of every abuse occurring, but the fact that the pastor freely preaches about behind-the-scenes drama reveals the deeper truth: he is untouchable, uncorrectable, and shielded by leaders who will never confront him.
Leaders, I understand you’ve heard Scripture from this pastor, but he has twisted it into his own version of submission. You have access to reformed theology, to sound, solid preachers such as John MacArthur, Voddie Baucham, and Paul Washer. Think about their legacy. Think about their sermons. Have you ever heard them gossip about church members from the stage? No, because that’s highly inappropriate. Scripture condemns gossip because it tears people apart and never builds them up. And yet, not only is your pastor a gossip, but he does it from the pulpit.
Consider the Old Testament’s emphasis on the temple and how holy it was. As a leader, you will be held accountable for people’s souls. God’s Word shows His faithfulness from Genesis to Revelation. He will not allow corruption to continue in His house. The Lord will rid the wicked from among us. Do not wait until you’re before Jesus for Him to say, “Depart from Me; I never knew you.”
Imagine Judgment Day. You stand before Jesus and say, “Lord, I went on mission trips twice a year. I did my quiet time. I read the Bible every year.” And He says, “Depart from Me; I never knew you.” Scripture says He will tell those who are His own, “When I was hungry, you fed Me. When I was naked, you clothed me.” And many will say, “When did I do these things?” and God will say, “What you did to the least of these, you also did to Me.”
So think about this, congregants, especially leaders. How are you helping those who are weak in their faith, those who have nothing to offer but their brokenness, a broken and contrite heart? Are you welcoming vulnerable college kids only to twist their minds into becoming another minion for the church? Or are you encouraging people of all ages who’ve been through hardship? Is it important to you that people see perfection in the church, or that they see Christ in the church?
To the families impacted by this church, those whose kids no longer speak to them, whose friends abandoned them, whose loved ones were told they’re “not truly saved” because of this church’s teaching, I implore you to keep praying for these congregants. They are under a deep spell of manipulation. Pray for them as you would for the enslaved, whose view of the gospel was twisted for generations. This has caused great harm and hurt to entire groups of people in our country.
Some are afraid to leave because they don’t know anything else. Some know they’ll lose everything if they leave. But true freedom is outside of that stronghold. True freedom is in Christ. Submit to Him. Obey the Holy Spirit tugging at your heart telling you, “You need to leave.” You’ve seen people leave every year, often in dramatic ways. People you discerned were truly saved and are branded as nonbelievers. Trust your convictions. Trust God, He will not lead you astray.
For those who think they’re not under a religious spirit, who believe they are slaves to Christ and not to men, I implore you to use discernment. Miss a life group or two and see how the leaders react. I myself saw the emphasis on having the “aesthetic” of righteousness without the transformative work of God.
I struggled with sin and gave in to temptation multiple times. I lived with worldly shame instead of godly sorrow, the kind that leads to genuine repentance and freedom. I tasted glimpses of it but always fell back because there was no real encouragement to have true victory over sin. I’ve seen women in the church who struggled with the same sins, lust, gluttony, overconsumption of food, shopping, or apathy, experience breakthroughs but fall hard because they believe that’s who they are: their sin. They compared themselves to leaders, saying, “I wish I could be like them, who moved on from their sins.” I said those things myself. It’s sad and discouraging.
The last two years have been revealing for America, not just for the world but for the church. Corruption is being exposed. These leaders who’ve turned modern-day people into slaves under the guise of faithfulness are being judged. We must be ready in and out of season because when the church falls, not only will the leaders be held accountable, but so will those who were complacent, those who stayed for a decade, saw people leave, ended friendships, dishonored parents under submission to the leaders.
There’s grace for you. Trust the Lord. Be willing to lose everything, not for this church, but for Christ. Lose it for His glory. Lose it for the sake of those who are spiritually being beaten left and right without encouragement. Be willing to lose everything for the true gospel, the gospel that saves, not just when it was first preached, but even now in this crooked and perverse world.
I pray that if you’re reading this and feel defensive, that you’ll hear me out. Hear my heart. I gain no glory from writing this. I do not celebrate what’s happening in that church. I’m exposing the works of darkness and bringing them to light so that people will actually know God and find freedom.
Victory is out here. It’s a process when you leave. You’ll cry a lot. You’ll feel crazy. But there’s hope. You’ll get to a place of full comfort and trust in the Lord. Believe that God is for you, not against you. He loves you.
I Left Antioch Orlando 