Christian Community Isn’t a Fairy Tale—
—and That’s Okay.
Community used to be one of my favorite topics to teach on. I was passionate about it. But like many adult relationships, my experience with Christian community hit a speed bump. We had a few great years, but then life happened. Hard things happened. And I got bitter.
I found myself teaching about the misery of unforgiveness not as theory, but from raw, personal experience. I had fallen into the common trap of thinking that just because relationships happen within the church and under the name of “Christian,” they should be easier, cleaner—free from the muddy waters of sin.
But let me say it plainly:
Christians are sinners.
Sinners are going to sin.
Sinners need forgiveness—from God, yes, but also from each other.
There’s no fairy-tale ending until we reach heaven. The difficulty of relationships doesn’t vanish once you’re in Christian circles. For a long time, I wore rose-colored glasses, believing Christian community was somehow above the mess. But I was wrong. Christians sin. That’s not the exception—it’s the norm.
How to Survive (and Thrive) in Community
Here are a few truths I’ve learned—often the hard way—about walking through the messiness of Christian relationships:
You are a broken sinner who needs grace every day. So is everyone else.
A person’s character shows when they’re sinned against. Grace is proof they’re walking with God.
Forgiving others isn’t optional. It’s the only way to survive.
Christians are saved sinners who will continue to stumble. But as we grow in our relationship with God, we learn the joy and peace that comes from letting go of bitterness and picking up better habits—like forgiveness, humility, and grace.
My Comeback Story
After yet another painful experience—where I was deeply hurt by other Christians—I found myself flat on my face before the Lord. Angry. Broken. Begging God to fix it, to make it right, even to take revenge. I didn’t hold back. And God didn’t reject me.
But instead of answering my demands, He gently whispered, “I’ve got something better for you.”
That “better” came in the form of a Bible study at a new school my kids were attending. I showed up guarded, worn out, and uninterested in making new friends. I told myself I was just going out of duty: “I wrote a book on prayer—I should be in a Bible study.”
But here’s the beautiful thing about obedience: even when your heart isn’t in it, God works with it.
Over time, that duty turned to delight. I was met with grace and patience by women who didn’t rush me but kept loving me. Walls began to fall. And slowly, I found a new community—one that I trust, one that brings joy, one that reminds me of the hope Scripture promises when we walk this journey together.
Is it perfect? No. But I’ve decided not to let every little hurt or misunderstanding drive a wedge. Here’s my new rule: I’m not allowed to be mad unless I’m willing to talk to the person. If I don’t want to confront them, I let it go. If it matters enough to address, I address it.
This simple boundary has helped me avoid resentment, let go of small offenses, and focus on the relationships that matter most.
Embrace the Hard
Offense is inevitable—it’s part of living in a fallen world. The question is not if we’ll be offended, but how we’ll respond. If our goal is to be “mutually encouraging to each other’s faith” (Romans 1:12), then working through hard things—together—is essential.
That means:
Putting down pride (whether you’re the offender or the offended)
Being quick to forgive
Being bold enough to gently correct
Think of it like this:
If two people are walking and one steps on the other’s foot, the healthy response is:
“You stepped on my foot. It hurt. Please don’t do that again.”
And the reply should be:
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry.”
It’s not that complicated. But pride gets in the way.
Instead of owning it, we:
Deny: “No I didn’t.”
Excuse: “I didn’t mean to.”
Blame: “You stepped in my path.”
Or, if we’re the ones hurt, we:
Take it personally: “You did that because you hate me.”
Internalize it: “There must be something wrong with me.”
Demonize: “You’re an unforgivable villain.”
None of these responses lead to peace. And sometimes, after repeated hurt, it’s okay to say, “I forgive you, but I’m not going to keep walking this road with you.” Healthy boundaries are part of wise, Christ-centered living.
Final Thoughts
Community is hard—but it will make you stronger, wiser, and more Christlike.
Forgiveness is our link to joy and peace.
Purging entitlement, victimhood, bitterness, and resentment is essential.
Let’s stop expecting perfection from people. Let’s stop being surprised when Christians sin. Instead, let’s lean into the difficult, knowing that in the mess, God meets us—and He uses it to shape us into something holy.
