From Dark to Light

Learning to trust again when the leaders we trusted crumble

I’m going to be honest.

I’m shaken.

My heart cracks open a little more each time another leader is exposed. Another ministry falls. Another name, another headline, another story of someone who once preached truth but lived something very different behind closed doors.

It’s hard to keep up. It’s hard to make sense of it. And it’s hard to sit with the weight of so much unraveling at once.

These weren’t just strangers to us.

They were voices we trusted.

Books we underlined.

Songs we cried through.

Messages we held onto in the middle of our own pain.

And suddenly, all of it feels tainted.

I’ve felt the swirl of anger and sadness. The betrayal. The confusion. But also, if I’m really honest, grief. Because what do we do when people we admired turn out to be part of the very harm they once spoke against? How do we keep walking forward when everything feels like shifting sand?

There is something deeply disorienting about watching the ones we thought stood strong crumble under the weight of their own hidden sins.

And I’ve had to step back a little. To let this sink in. To take a good look at where I’ve placed my faith and get honest. Because I love the body of Christ. I do. But I’ve also had to recognize that there are blots of black ink throughout it, like everything else touched by humanity.

We’re in an age where the truth is surfacing on a grander scale, and maybe that’s the grace of it. But this kind of hurt? It’s not new. Many of us have known abuse, manipulation, or blind trust gone wrong. We’ve seen misgivings held within the church walls, wrapped carefully in spiritual language, and hidden under the cover of grace. Not to protect hearts, but to preserve platforms.

But now, the curtain is being pulled back.

And it hurts.

But here’s the other truth I need to say out loud.

As much as it hurts, it’s opened something in me too.

It’s made space for a return.

A quiet, unseen, internal shift.

A call to go back to the Source Himself.

Stripped of personality cults.

Stripped of branded ministries.

Stripped of curated images and performative spirituality.

Just Jesus.

Just His voice.

His Word.

His presence.

His heart.

And as I look around and see the shaking happening across churches, worship spaces, publishing houses, and global stages, I know this isn’t random. This is refining. This is mercy, even when it hurts. Because God has always been the one who brings light to hidden places. Not to shame for the sake of shame, but to heal what has been festering underneath.

I don’t know how to hold it all. The heartbreak. The hope. The justice. The grace.

But I’m learning that I don’t have to sort it all perfectly to still trust the One who sees everything.

He is not like them.

He is not like us.

He is holy.

He is safe.

And He does not turn a blind eye to the wounded in the pews or the silence of the disillusioned hearts.

This grief we carry over the Church? He carries it too. He weeps over what has been done in His name. He hears the cries. He sees every victim, every cover-up, every painful ripple. He is not absent. He is active.

God is light. And wherever He moves, darkness cannot stay hidden.

If you’ve been feeling shaken like I have, I want you to know it’s okay to step back. It’s okay to grieve the space you once trusted. It’s okay to feel the ache. But please don’t turn away from Jesus because of the failings of people who misused His name.

Don’t confuse the failures of man with the nature of God.

The path back may feel lonely at first, but it’s holy.

And the light you find there… it will be real. Pure. Untouched by performance or applause.

Just Him.

That is the safest place to land.

“For nothing is hidden that will not be revealed, nor is anything secret that will not be made known and come to light.” Luke 8:17

love, Sarah xx.

If these words found you in the thick of it, I’m so glad you’re here. This space was never meant to be polished, just honest. And it means the world that you’re reading along.

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