When You Lose Ground Spiritually
I used to be the mom who showed up at church every week. Not because I had everything figured out, but because serving felt like home.
I worked every Wednesday evening in the nursery. I served the 2nd Sunday in the nursery and the 1st and 3rd Sundays at the school-age children’s check-in desk. I was there. I was serving. I was showing up.
And then everything fell apart.
I stopped serving. I stopped going to church. I stopped listening to Christian music. I stopped praying. I stopped reading my Bible.
I didn’t drift away—I pulled away.
And the longer I stayed away, the harder it was to even imagine going back.
This is what it feels like when Satan wins a round.
1 Peter 5:8 says, "Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour."
I wasn’t watchful. I wasn’t sober-minded. And somewhere in the middle of the chaos, Satan devoured the ground I’d fought so hard to gain.
The Four Months of Darkness
It started with job instability. Then the financial collapse began. Then the medication changes.
Layer after layer, everything in my life began to crumble at the same time.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I pulled away from God…hard.
I didn’t want to set foot inside church. I couldn’t serve anymore. I wanted nothing to do with God. Because in my mind, He was punishing me.
My world was collapsing around me, and I couldn’t think of one thing I’d done to deserve it; yet the punishment felt so personal.
Four job changes. A car repossessed. Another on the verge. A house falling further and further behind. Overdrafts. Fear. Panic. A mental health crisis. A medication detox that left me raw and barely functioning.
And then…I lost my best friend. I reached out. I tried to mend things. And the silence felt like another loss on a growing pile of them.
And I felt completely abandoned.
By my friend. By my church. By God.
Worship music felt fake. Prayer felt hollow. Scripture felt condemning.
I felt punished, not loved.
And the longer I stayed away, the louder the shame grew: “You’ve gone too far. You can’t come back from this.”
Psalm 88:6-7 says, "You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep. Your wrath lies heavy upon me, and you overwhelm me with all your waves."
That’s exactly how it felt; like God’s wrath was heavy on my chest. Like I was drowning in wave after wave, and He wasn’t stepping in to rescue me.
How Shame Isolates You From God
Shame is one of Satan’s most effective weapons.
It whispers:
- “You’ve been gone too long.”
- “God is disappointed in you.”
- “You’re a hypocrite.”
- “You don’t deserve to come back.”
- “Everyone at church will judge you.”
- “You’ve failed as a Christian.”
- “You caused all of this.”
- “You deserve this.”
And shame doesn’t just make you hide from God; it convinces you that God is hiding from you.
It keeps you from reaching out. It keeps you from going back to church. It keeps you from praying. It keeps you from believing God still loves you.
Shame says, “You’re too far gone.”
But that’s a lie.
John 3: 16-17 says, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condem the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."
Naming the Enemy’s Tactics
Satan didn’t attack me with temptation—he attacked me with lies.
- Discouragement — “Nothing is working. God isn’t listening. What’s the point?”
- Lies — “You’re a failure. You’re too broken. You’re not worth saving. God is punishing you. You deserve this.”
- Confusion — “Is God even real? Does He even care? Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this?”
- Accusation — “You caused this. This is your fault. If you had just stayed at your job, none of this would have happened. You ruined your family.”
And because I was already struggling mentally, those tactics were devastatingly effective.
You start believing the lies. You start pulling away. You start isolating.
And before you know it, you’re in spiritual darkness.
John 8:44 says, "You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies."
Satan is the father of lies. And he was whispering lies to me every single day.
2 Corinthians 10:5 says, "We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ."
But I wasn’t taking my thoughts captive; my thoughts were taking me captive. I was letting them run wild. I was believing every lie Satan whispered.
And it pulled me further and further away from God, and then darkness settled in.
What It Feels Like to Lose Ground Spiritually
It feels like drowning. Like watching yourself drift away from God and feeling powerless to stop it.
It feels like failing at the one thing that’s supposed to hold your life together. Like God is punishing you, not loving you. Like everyone else has faith figured out, and you’re the only one who can’t seem to find your footing.
It feels lonely. Shameful. Isolating.
And the worst part? You don’t know how to come back.
You don’t know how to walk back into church after months of absence. You don’t know how to start praying again when the words feel hollow. You don’t know how to read your Bible again when it feels like condemnation. You don’t know how to worship again when it feels like a lie.
Psalm 42:3 says, "My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all the day long, 'Where is your God?'"
That question haunted me.
Where was He when my finances collapsed?
Where was He when my mental health unraveled?
Where was He when my friend walked away?
Where was He when I felt invisible at church?
Where was He?
The Courage to Return — Baby Steps Back
When concessions season finally ended, and our schedule calmed down, Matt gently asked me:
“Would you try going just once? Just one Sunday?”
So I did.
I didn’t sit in service. I wasn’t ready. Instead, I sat in the café—Bible studies open, the sermon floating through the background like something familiar but far away.
I’ve been several times since.
I’ve gone to a few Wednesday nights. One in the nursery talking with someone I hadn’t seen in months. Another sitting with the choir; not singing, just being there.
Baby steps.
I’m not ready to sit in service yet. I’m not ready to serve again. I’m not ready to pretend everything is okay.
Not perfection. Not pretending. Just steps.
Coming back doesn’t have to look perfect.
It doesn’t have to be dramatic. It doesn’t have to be all at once. It just has to be a step.
One worship song. One prayer. One Bible verse. One Sunday. One conversation.
Lamentations 3:22-23 says, "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
New mercy for the mom too ashamed to walk in. New mercy for the wandering heart. New mercy for the one taking the smallest possible step.
New mercies every morning. Not just once. Not just when you get it all together. Every morning.
How to Return to God Without Fear
Here’s the truth: You don’t have to be fixed to come back. You don’t have to have all of the answers. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay. You just have to come.
God isn’t waiting for your apology speech. He isn’t waiting for you to “get it together.” He isn’t disappointed in you. He’s not punishing you. He’s not keeping score. He’s already running toward you.
He’s waiting with open arms, ready to meet you exactly where you are.
Luke 15:20 says, "And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him."
The father didn’t wait for the son to clean up. He didn’t wait for an apology. He didn’t wait for the son to prove he was worthy. He ran to him.
While he was still a long way off. While he was still covered in shame. While he was still rehearsing his apology.
The father ran to him.
That’s how God is waiting for you.
Psalm 103:12 says, "as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us."
Your sin, shame, and failure are not a wall between you and God. It’s a fog. And He walks straight through it.
You can come back.
Why Losing a Round Doesn’t Mean Losing the War
Satan won a round.
He pulled me away. He isolated me. He filled my mind with lies. He convinced me that God was punishing me. He convinced me that I was too far gone.
But he didn’t win the war.
Because I’m still here. Still reaching. Still fighting. Still choosing to turn back toward God, even if it’s slow.
And that, right there, is victory.
Losing ground doesn’t mean you’ve lost the fight. It just means you have to keep fighting. And God is fighting with you.
1 John 4:4 says, "Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world."
He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world. Greater than Satan. Greater than the lies. Greater than the shame. Greater than the darkness.
Romans 8:37 says, "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us."
Through Him who loved us. Not through our own strength. Through Him.
God’s Grace for Wandering Hearts
God’s grace has no expiration date.
It doesn’t shrink when you wander. It doesn’t fade when you stop praying. It doesn’t weaken when you pull away.
For the mom who pulled away and doesn’t know how to come back. For the mom who stopped praying and feels too ashamed to start again. For the mom who lost ground spiritually and thinks she’s too far gone.
You’re not too far gone. You’re never too far gone.
God’s grace is big enough for your mess. Big enough for your doubt. Big enough for your darkness. Big enough for your anger. Big enough for your shame.
And it’s waiting for you. Grace is for the wanderers. Grace is for the ashamed. Grace is for the moms sitting in the parking lot trying to make themselves walk inside.
Grace is for you.
Ephesians 2:8-9 says, "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."
Not a result of works. Not because you earned it. Not because you deserve it. Not because you got your act together.
It’s a gift.
Hebrews 4:16 says, "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Not with shame. Not with fear. Not with hesitation.
With confidence. Because His grace is waiting for you.
You Can Come Back
If you’re reading this and you’ve pulled away from God—
If you haven’t been to church in months and you don’t know how to go back—
If you’ve lost ground spiritually and you feel too ashamed to return—
If you’ve stopped praying—
If you feel too far gone—
Hear me: You can come back.
One worship song. One prayer. One verse. One Sunday, sitting in the café, if that’s all you can handle.
That’s enough.
Satan won a round. But he didn’t win the war. And God is already running toward you.
He’s not disappointed. He’s not angry. He’s not keeping score. He’s running toward you with open arms.
Joel 2:12-13 says, "'Yet even now,' declares the Lord, 'return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.' Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love; and he relents over disaster."
You can come back. Right now. Just as you are. Because He never stopped loving you.
Return to Him. Not when you’re ready. Not when you’re fixed. Not when you’re perfect.
Right now. In the middle of the mess. In the middle of the darkness. In the middle of the shame.
Because He is gracious. He is merciful. He is slow to anger. He is abounding in steadfast love.
You can come back.
Reflection Questions
- Have you ever pulled away from God? What did that feel like?
- What lies has Satan been whispering to you?
- What would it look like to take one baby step back toward God?
- Do you believe God’s grace is big enough for your mess?
A Prayer for the Mom Coming Back from Spiritual Darkness
Father, I wandered. I pulled away. I stopped fighting. I let shame and fear convince me that You were done with me. I let Satan win a round. And now I don’t know how to come back. I’m ashamed. I’m afraid. I feel like I’ve gone too far. But I’m choosing to believe Your grace is bigger than my failure. That Your love is stronger than my shame. That You’re waiting for me with open arms. Help me take one step back toward You. Meet me in the middle of the mess and remind me that losing a round doesn’t mean losing the war. Thank You for running towards me even when I’m a long way off. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
This is the ninth post in the “From The Trenches” series—a raw, unfiltered look at faith, failure, and finding hope in the valley. It’s a series I never planned to write, but one God has used to remind me that even in the darkest places, we don’t have to walk alone.
If you’re reading this and something in it echoes your own story…
If you’ve been hiding your spiritual exhaustion…
If you’ve been afraid to admit how far you’ve drifted…
Please know this: You are not too far gone. You are not failing. You are not alone. You do not have to walk through this by yourself.
Please hear my heart: I’ve been there. Truly. And you are safe here.
If you need someone to talk to…
If you need a place to cry…
If you need a mom who understands the darkness you’re fighting through…
If you want someone to walk with you without judgment and remind you that God hasn’t let go of you…
I’m here. My inbox is open. My heart is open. My hand is open.
If you need to share your story, whisper the things you can’t say out loud, or simply know that someone out there cares…
You can reach me anytime at danece@momleavesalegacy.com.
You are seen. You are loved. You belong here. You don’t have to climb out of your valley alone.
I will listen. I will pray. I will sit with you in the valley until you find your footing again.
You are never alone, friend. 🩷💙