More than the Cross ✨ ⚒️ 💌

... was the man 🪾🫧

Hi, is this a safe space?

Even if it isn't, I’ll still share this piece.

Because someone out there might need it.

Today, I’d like to talk about something very real.

It’s not necessarily a dreamy topic,

But I think it’s necessary — especially at this point.

I’m a Christian.

Born and raised by Christian parents.

Raised by the church — literally.

The art of speaking — which a lot of people commend me for now —

Was groomed by the church.

I honestly feel like my IQ was challenged the most in church.

I mean, as young as 6, 7, 8,

I was already reciting chapters of the Bible.

I kid you not —

I have people who still remember. They could testify.

I was doing so much.

Whatever my Sunday School teacher thought a little pushing could get me to do — I did.

Most times, sha, she was right.

That push was mostly what I needed —

Because I was a very, very lazy child.

Academically? I was unstoppable.

In church? On fire.

In school? Smarter than most.

I spoke better than most.

At 8, I was moderating a talk show in school.

And so much more.

This isn’t me trying to recount every time I beat people’s expectations.

This is me laying the groundwork —

For a real talk about the Church, the Gospel, and Christianity.

The church, for me growing up, was hell.

I know—sounds like a contradiction.

What do you mean a church that did so much for you was hell?

Well, that’s the truth.

The church that gave me so much also took so much.

It took my self-esteem, tied my worth to how much I could perform,

And the moment I couldn’t, it felt like I’d maxed out on the love I’d receive.

That same church watched me spiral after my parents’ separation—

And nobody even paused to ask how it was taking a toll on me.

I’ll give them grace and say my spiral didn’t look like tears everywhere…

It looked like rebellion, lies woven into fantasy, and drama to get attention.

For all of that, I watched myself go from golden child to most hated.

I kid you not when I say I’m still despised by some people.

Number one on that list? The pastor himself.

And don’t you dare say, “He’s a pastor; you can’t criticize him.”

Well, guess what? I was a child, too—yet he physically condescended me.

Every time I flopped, he’d look at me with judging eyes.

He showed visible affection for another girl who didn’t do as much but was prettier and from a well-to-do family.

That’s how I felt, anyway. Maybe it was because she had a kind of innocence I didn’t.

But tough luck—life’s been cruel to me.

Anyway, I could keep going, but that’s enough.

I got away.

As soon as I was old enough to make decisions—

(By my house standards, that meant starting to contribute financially)—

I left the church I’d known my whole life.

I drifted for a while (over a year) until I found a place that felt like home:

The right choir, the right outfits, a hyped pastor, a youth church—

And for the first year, everything was good.

Until I started seeing the patterns…

Great sermons and all, but the people? Something was off.

Performative Christianity felt unnatural.

Hushed tones were lauded as kindness.

So… you mean to tell me that if I’m naturally loud, I don’t have a gentle spirit?

Hugs that felt warm one moment—

And the next, talks about inclusivity…

Then you notice that only the rich get the roles and responsibilities.

As someone who’s struggling, I guess I won’t serve well?

It’s a youth church, yeah?

So they push all the single sisters to get hitched,

While certain people get “pitched” for more than others…

I’m not saying finding love is compulsory,

But this system is flawed. It’s flawed.

Then I joined my school fellowship, and everyone was just… busy.

At what point are we expected to slow down and enjoy the fellowship we work so hard to keep running?

Activities upon activities—it felt wrong.

As I write this, I still don’t fully understand what’s happening.

And I’m the last person to judge those who deliberately avoid “the gathering of the brethren,”

Because it no longer feels like the gathering of saints…

It feels like the gathering of hypocrites.

But here’s the deal:

What is the Gospel?

It’s Jesus Christ—His mission, His life, His death, His sacrifice. Right?

Then my question to you is: Why do you seek fellowship?

Sometimes, we get so busy scrutinizing where to worship

That we lose all sense of worship in the hunt.

We need to slow down and ask ourselves:

Is our aim still to find a place to worship?

Or are we just checking off boxes to match our “ideal” church?

I didn’t realize I was doing that—

Until I heard a preacher point it out.

Let me tell you what I think is a place of worship:

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First — Whatever is being preached should be directly from the Bible

Not someone standing on a stage passing down heresies like bedtime stories.

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Second — A place that preaches growth.

Because a trend I’ve noticed is the world trying to box Christians in —

Asking, “Why do you want so much? Why are you trying to be great? Wasn’t Jesus a carpenter?”

Next time someone says that? Slap them (gently 😌)

And remind them: David — a man after God’s heart — was also wealthy, powerful, and favored.

He did exploits. He didn’t lack.

So, the next time someone preaches insecurity or mediocrity in the name of humility,

I give you full permission to refer them to a teaching hospital.

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Third — A place that doesn’t just preach acceptance,

But actually practices it.

Let me remind you:

Jesus defended an adulterer.

He ate with a deceiver.

He called Judas "friend".

Jesus said, “I love you.”

And you — you’re not perfect.

There are things you’ve done that you can’t even say out loud to your best friend…

And He still said, "I love you. Come home to Me."

Whatever denomination or fellowship you want to join —

If it does not reflect this kind of love,

It’s not where you’re meant to be.

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These are all I’ll mention for now.

Sure, there might be more…

But I believe these three are encompassing enough to serve as a compass.

If a church has all of these — and you still don’t find it enough —

Then (and I’m holding your hand while I say this):

There’s a chance you might be the problem.

Or maybe…

You’re just not staying long enough to see it.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m talking about a place of worship under “Gospel” and not “Church.”

That’s because the fastest way to push the Gospel is through community.

And the quickest way to keep your fire burning is by not forsaking the gathering of the brethren.

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See ehn, the Gospel itself is Love — because Jesus is Love.

And that brings us to the next talk: Christianity.

Christianity is a sensitive one, simply because everyone seems to have their own definition.

Different versions flying everywhere.

Even my own understanding might not match yours.

But here’s what I do know:

Christianity means Christ-like.

So, whatever that means to you — that’s your mirror.

But then, that leads us to a deeper question:

Who is Christ to you?

And how is He to you?

Just the One who died for the sins of the world?

Or much more?

Please, say much more.

Because the man had Personality!

Every time someone tells me I’m doing too much, or being dramatic about how the church should be…

I remember the scene where Jesus scattered the temple traders.

And I giggle 🤭

Like Father, like daughter.

Any time I feel like I’m expecting too much,

I remember that my Father gave Solomon a blank cheque.

And I relax 🙂‍↕️

I could give so many more examples:

Like how Jesus washed His disciples’ feet —

I like to imagine that’s what I’m doing every time I take care of my friends or help someone in my circle.

Or how He called Judas friend, even in betrayal —

That’s the same energy I carry for this snake of a girl from my secondary school 😒

(Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?)

My friend, I truly pray that you see Jesus as much more than the One who died on the cross.

He’s so much more. So much better.

All you need to know Him is intimacy.

Let this letter be a call to intimacy.

There’s so much more in God, so much more in Jesus,

that we’re not really tapping into.

When you grow deeper with God,

you stop judging the Church as this separate, broken thing…

And you start carrying it as your Father’s business.

Suddenly, every time you complain,

it’s not just out of anger or bitterness anymore —

It’s out of love.

You’re grieved, not because you hate the Church,

but because they’re manhandling your Father’s house.

There are levels to this thing called Christianity.

Have you read your Bible?

Mehn, these people were Christians before the word even existed — like fr!

I was listening to Psalm 39/40 recently, and in the chapter, David was talking about how he wasn’t fighting or running to solve his current tribulation — because he knew it was from the Lord.

He knew.

He knew the difference between the devil coming for him and the Lord dealing with him.

Please, strive for intimacy.

Then there’s this issue of what a Christian is “allowed” to feel.

I remember speaking to a guy in my church one time and casually mentioning that I was struggling with severe depression. I’d moved from that into high-functioning depression… all while battling active anxiety and other things.

He said,

> “I rebuke it in Jesus' name. You don’t know — as a Christian, what you declare is what it is.”

Another person said,

> “Don’t you have the joy of salvation? That should be enough.”

I was so upset that I literally stopped talking about these conditions permanently.

People like them are the reason Christian women die in unhealthy marriages — because divorce is not a choice.

Habba. In this big 2025?

Even God — I talk to Him about it.

Sometimes I just cry.

Sometimes all I can say is:

> “God, don’t let me die like this… or in this.”

Isn’t He my Father?

I believe in saying it as it is, then using faith, prayer, and work to tackle it —

Not blind positivity.

Have you ever wond

ered why we still read Matthew 7:7:

> “Ask, and it shall be given…”

Even after God said He knows our hearts?

Even after He said He’s all-seeing?

He still asked that we speak.

He still asked that we say what’s going on.

Do you think He can’t already tell that you’re spiraling? That you’ve been struggling to eat?

Last year, I got so bad I couldn’t even brush my teeth.

And then — like a switch — I started to function normally again.

If someone had done a proper mental health study, they’d tell you I was in danger.

I could’ve died if not for a friend who said:

> “We need to find a solution. Then pray for God to make the process easier.”

This is what Christianity is about, for God’s sake.

Christianity is making Jesus and faith the foundation

— your work is what climbs on it.

There’s so much we’re missing as a generation.

Same way there’s so much that’s unraveling.

But my prayer for us is this:

That at the end of the day,

it all makes sense.

The fragmented dreams.

The chaos.

The tears.

The sermons.

The effort.

All of it.

I pray — sincerely — that we’ll be able to look back and see that God was in everything.

I don’t think the average Christian truly understands what it means when we say:

“God is in everything.”

He’s in the sky.

In the trees.

In the grass.

In the mountains, the hills.

In the palaces... and in the prisons.

And yes — even in that rickety old church still using plastic chairs in this generation.

He’s there in your happiest days.

He’s there in your darkest nights.

He’s there when your mind is crystal clear,

and He’s there when your world is fogged with confusion.

He’s in everything.

He’s in the details.

So here’s the real reason I wrote this piece:

I’m pleading with you.

Please, forgive the hurt.

And in that moment — no matter how good or how bad it was —

look around you.

See God there.

I promise you: He’s in it somewhere.

Thank you to Ann Helen and Anendlessocean for inspiring this piece. ❤️

Sending you hugs 🤗

— as a piece from this pod 💜❤️

One last thing:

I love you 😙

Because Jesus loves you too. ❤️

A~A