Deconstruction- Not a threat to the church, but an opportunity of healing.


I have Tik Tok (gasp!). Something that I have noticed as a theme that comes across my profile, quite often, are from those who deconstruct from Christianity.  I have been noticing that those who are deconstructing have been hurt by the church to the point that they do not know what is true to believe anymore. How can they believe in the loving God of Christianity, when those in power have brought hurt on those they are supposed to lead?



How can we, as Christians, help them journey toward healing instead of judging their crises of faith? Usually those who are in that season are angry. Digging through the anger is a tough journey, and I have been there. I know what it’s like to be angry and I remember having thoughts like: “Everything I believed must be a lie? I don’t want to give up on Jesus. I believe in him. But others who represent him have completely shown me a Jesus that I cannot get behind”. Those type of thoughts can be paralyzing. The fear of “losing my salvation” (whether you believe in that or not) became even more a reality. I felt my whole world shaken, and had panic attacks even at the thought of attending church again.

Many of the thoughts that enter the person’s mind can be used by the enemy to continue to hurt the individual and keep them running away from church. Church is not greater than God. A pastor is anointed to lead a church, but that is not an anointed to the level equal to God. A pastor is a human. They are fallible and WILL make mistakes. I know I have. It’s unfortunately part of our sinful human nature.


If you are in a wonderful opportunity to help others who are on that journey, you can do a few things that are beneficial.

1.    Don’t take sides. Even if the pastor was wrong, it is important to remember that this person needs support, encouragement, love, and not additional fuel to the fiery anger they feel within- even if the anger is justified. The Word of God teaches us “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:8, ESV)

2.    Listen to the individual. Don’t just listen to respond but listen to understand. “Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. ” (James 1:19-20) In their anger or pain, they might not be able to hear very clearly, so the ownness is on you. Listen to understand and help the individual feel safe with you.

3.    Keep it confidential. Do not go to the church leader yourself to try and solve this. The person on this journey needs time to reconcile their pain with the truth.

4.    Remind them that the pastor/leader is not God. The truth is Jesus is not the one that caused the pain or hurt. The person who hurt them will be held accountable by God for their actions or inactions.

5.    If the issue they bring forward warrants an appeal to the church board, or however that congregation’s accountability is set up, offer to go with them as support. Don’t go with an agenda to bring the other person down, but to bring it to the authority whose job is to hold leadership accountable.

6.    Don’t feel you are absolutely responsible for the actions that the pastor/leader, or the person who was hurt will take.

7.    Pray for and with them. Pray with them while they are confessing what’s happening. Pray for them when they are not in your presence.

8.    Remember that this takes time. Do not expect for the person to find healing after one time of talking with you about it. I know on my own journey I still struggle with moments of grief and anger. I have to do my best to remember that justice is in God’s hands.


My journey of deconstruction is as unique as the next person’s. I never lost faith in Jesus, but I lost sight on how to trust others who call themselves Christians, especially leaders. Through counseling I am way better today than I was a year and a half ago as I was finishing my Master of Divinity degree. I can say that today, my faith in Jesus is stronger than ever and my loyalty to leadership is where it should have been years ago- not being blindly loyal to any one person or group. God used this journey to strengthen me and to experience His healing nature, His grace for others and I feel more loved by God now than ever before.

A final note is that deconstruction can turn into glory for God. If there is a problem with leadership, God will turn it towards good (Romans 8:28) IF we ask Him to and then allow God time to make it right. We do not take matters into our own hands, and we must encourage someone who is going through this process to keep their faith in God. God, being the King of justice, will handle any due justice His way and in His time. That is probably the hardest lesson for me to remember as I recover from my own deconstruction journey. 







By Eileen Glotfelty February 14, 2026
I was married to a fisherman, an avid fisherman. Almost as soon as we were engaged, he was planning our dream honeymoon on the shores of Chandos Lake in Canada. He was eight years old when his parents bought property around the lake and built a log cabin. He spent every summer there and that's where his love of fishing began. Whether he was standing on the shore or in a boat on the water, he spent countless hours doing what he loved. I'll never forget that first week. I knew I was in trouble the minute we arrived. There were two ways to get to the cabin. One was by boat (which we were towing), or maneuvering our car around boulders on a dirt road. We docked the boat at a small marina and drove to the cabin. I have to admit, my first view of the cabin was breathtaking. It was situated on a point where a bay joined the main part of the lake. Inside there was a wood burning stove and blue gingham curtains hung on the windows. My one challenge was the lack of indoor plumbing. I have to admit I was horrified when he threw a hose into the lake and connected it to a pump! We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in. It wasn't until the next morning I realized my husband's love for fishing was more like an addiction. I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. As a new bride, I was adjusting to the joy of waking up to find the man I loved lying beside me, only this day, there was no man. Instead I found a note and a foghorn. Unbeknownst to me, he had risen before sunrise and headed out on the lake. The note he left simply said, “Went fishing. Stand on the shore and blow the fog horn and I'll come in. I love you!” Needless-to-day, I was not impressed; however, he was a man of his word and came in when I blew the foghorn. I had never been one for the great outdoors so I had to make a decision. I finally decided, “if you can't beat em, join em.” This involved learning how to fish. The first step was going to the bait shop. I couldn't even imagine touching anything slimy so when my eyes landed on some black, rubber worms, with hot pink tails, I told myself, “You can do this!” My husband laughed and shook his head but with my rubber worms in hand, we headed out to the lake. Step two involved learning how to cast. The better the cast, the more chance of success…or so I was told. My husband happily shifted into teaching mode and explained the finer art of casting. It's definitely not as easy as it looks. It took technique and focus but equally important was knowing where to cast. After several attempts, I made a successful cast. Now the hard part…the waiting! It was during the waiting that I heard the story of “the big one that got away.” Apparently there was a large mouth bass that was bigger than the rest. He was the Grandpappy of the lake and many had tried and failed to conquer him. I don't remember if it was this first fishing trip or the next but all I know is the fish were biting and I started reeling them in with my black rubber worms. Once again, God was in control. We had been out there a little while so it would soon be time to call it a day. Suddenly there was a tug on my line. It didn't feel the same as the others. This was a big one. He gave me quite a fight and I was screaming my head off while my husband grabbed a net. As I reeled in my catch, we could hardly believe it. I had caught the Grandpappy with a rubber worm! Needless-to-say, I gloated after the shock wore off. One other thing I learned with casting my line was the importance of adding a weight near the hook. The weight enables the hook to sink below the surface enabling the success of the catch. It's the same when we cast our cares on the Lord. It's about giving him not only the situation, but the weight of it that we are not meant to carry. He says it in His Word: Psalms 55:22 NIV Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. Today I found myself casting and recasting. Some things are harder to let go of than others, but as I kept giving it to him, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders My prayer went something like this. “Lord, I need You to help me. This is a big one. It runs deep. I don't want to hold onto it and I'm casting it on you.” Even though the situation didn't change, it felt different. There was peace in the waiting. One last thing…the next time we went to the bait shop, guess who bought some black rubber worms?
By Eileen Glotfelty January 16, 2026
I was married to a fisherman, an avid fisherman. Almost as soon as we were engaged, he was planning our dream honeymoon on the shores of Chandos Lake in Canada. He was eight years old when his parents bought property around the lake and built a log cabin. He spent every summer there and that's where his love of fishing began. Whether he was standing on the shore or in a boat on the water, he spent countless hours doing what he loved. I'll never forget that first week. I knew I was in trouble the minute we arrived. There were two ways to get to the cabin. One was by boat (which we were towing), or maneuvering our car around boulders on a dirt road. We docked the boat at a small marina and drove to the cabin. I have to admit, my first view of the cabin was breathtaking. It was situated on a point where a bay joined the main part of the lake. Inside there was a wood burning stove and blue gingham curtains hung on the windows. My one challenge was the lack of indoor plumbing. I have to admit I was horrified when he threw a hose into the lake and connected it to a pump! We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in. It wasn't until the next morning I realized my husband's love for fishing was more like an addiction. I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. As a new bride, I was adjusting to the joy of waking up to find the man I loved lying beside me, only this day, there was no man. Instead I found a note and a foghorn. Unbeknownst to me, he had risen before sunrise and headed out on the lake. The note he left simply said, “Went fishing. Stand on the shore and blow the fog horn and I'll come in. I love you!” Needless-to-day, I was not impressed; however, he was a man of his word and came in when I blew the foghorn. I had never been one for the great outdoors so I had to make a decision. I finally decided, “if you can't beat em, join em.” This involved learning how to fish. The first step was going to the bait shop. I couldn't even imagine touching anything slimy so when my eyes landed on some black, rubber worms, with hot pink tails, I told myself, “You can do this!” My husband laughed and shook his head but with my rubber worms in hand, we headed out to the lake. Step two involved learning how to cast. The better the cast, the more chance of success…or so I was told. My husband happily shifted into teaching mode and explained the finer art of casting. It's definitely not as easy as it looks. It took technique and focus but equally important was knowing where to cast. After several attempts, I made a successful cast. Now the hard part…the waiting! It was during the waiting that I heard the story of “the big one that got away.” Apparently there was a large mouth bass that was bigger than the rest. He was the Grandpappy of the lake and many had tried and failed to conquer him. I don't remember if it was this first fishing trip or the next but all I know is the fish were biting and I started reeling them in with my black rubber worms. Once again, God was in control. We had been out there a little while so it would soon be time to call it a day. Suddenly there was a tug on my line. It didn't feel the same as the others. This was a big one. He gave me quite a fight and I was screaming my head off while my husband grabbed a net. As I reeled in my catch, we could hardly believe it. I had caught the Grandpappy with a rubber worm! Needless-to-say, I gloated after the shock wore off. One other thing I learned with casting my line was the importance of adding a weight near the hook. The weight enables the hook to sink below the surface enabling the success of the catch. It's the same when we cast our cares on the Lord. It's about giving him not only the situation, but the weight of it that we are not meant to carry. He says it in His Word: Psalms 55:22 NIV Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. Today I found myself casting and recasting. Some things are harder to let go of than others, but as I kept giving it to him, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders My prayer went something like this. “Lord, I need You to help me. This is a big one. It runs deep. I don't want to hold onto it and I'm casting it on you.” Even though the situation didn't change, it felt different. There was peace in the waiting. One last thing…the next time we went to the bait shop, guess who bought some black rubber worms?
By Eileen Glotfelty December 25, 2025
My children grew up knowing what it meant to do without, especially the older two. We were on a strict grocery budget of $50 a week for a family of six. We didn't have money for snacks and treats but we never went hungry. There were times they had holes in their shoes and their boots leaked so we put plastic bags on their feet so they could go out and play in the snow. We did the best with what we had and I'd like to think my kids grew stronger because of it. The Bible says the apostle Paul learned to be content whether he had little or plenty. We tried to hold onto that. We experienced many miracles over the years in our times of need. I call them miracles because they came at just the right moment and sometimes with no explanation. One of those miracles came on Christmas Eve. I don't remember the year but I know my children were young. It had been a hard year financially as my husband was in and out of work. As Christmas drew near, our parents sent some money for presents and I was thankful but my mother's heart longed to give them more. On this particular Christmas Eve, I had put the kids to bed. The tree was up, cookies were baked and now it was just a matter of waiting. The only lights on in the house were that of our Christmas tree. It was calm and peaceful. It was then I heard a knock on the door. I wondered who it could be at that time of the night. When I opened the door, no one was there. The only thing I saw were shopping bags filled with presents. I was so surprised that it took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream. There was a shopping bag for each child. As I placed the gifts under the tree, I was filled with awe at the generosity. I don't have to tell you of the joy on their faces the next morning when they saw all the presents under the tree. Several years later I found out who blessed my family that Christmas Eve. It was a woman who knew someone in our church. She wanted to bless someone at Christmas and she was given our name. It turned out, she ran to the side of the house after knocking on our door and watched as I saw the gifts and brought them inside. I don't know if she ever realized what her kindness meant to us. If you'd ask any of my children today about those times we were blessed by others, they'd remember. It wasn't many years later that my children lost their Dad. He died in November and the holidays were upon us. Many of our family traditions were based on his love of Christmas. They seemed empty without him. When we were first married, we started a tradition of helping at least one person at Christmas time, even if it was a plate of homemade cookies. We carried on that tradition as our family grew and now we were faced with our first Christmas without him. As I remembered the joy of giving and receiving over past Christmases, I made a decision that we would carry on our family tradition. There were years we chose a family and bought gifts. There were years we went to nursing homes on Christmas morning with gifts and cookies to spend time with those who were lonely. Those were the best Christmases we ever had. The one question I've asked myself is, “Is it better to give or receive?” When we give without expecting anything in return, there's a joy like none other that pierces our soul and brings goodness and mercy to the surface. When we are on the receiving end, we feel seen and cared for and loved. So I encourage you to give and receive this Christmas for isn't that what it's all about? John 3:16 NIV “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”