A Beach, Two Strangers, and the Day My Church Told Me Not to Come Back
Before I start, let me just say:
I did not think this would be the video God kept nudging me to make.
You know when God puts something on your heart and you’re like, “You sure? Because that feels a little too vulnerable for a Tuesday morning”?
Yeah. That was this.
So today’s blog isn’t Scripture commentary or a reflection on a verse.
It’s my story — or at least the version of it I can fit into a post without writing a memoir.
My testimony.
My unraveling.
My healing.
How I became a Christian, how I became a somatic sex educator, and how those two things collided in the most painful (and somehow still holy?) way when I was asked to leave my church.
As always, I prayed before I recorded this story.
And I’ll pray again now in writing:
Heavenly Father, thank you for the courage to speak. Thank you for the peace that has been sitting with me like a quiet friend, even in chaos. Help whoever reads this hold it with gentleness. Amen.
Where It Really Started (Spoiler: Long Before I Knew It Did)
I grew up in what I call “a mixed denominational household,” a.k.a. Lutheran beginnings, Jehovah’s Witness family on one side, Catholic conversion at age three. So basically: religious smoothie.
My childhood wasn’t a nightmare, but it wasn’t the safe, warm spiritual home movies like to portray either. A lot of conditional love. A lot of feeling “other,” especially as the only person of color in my family and school. A lot of performing, proving, questioning my worth.
Those early threads eventually braided together into a deep belief:
“If even the men who were supposed to love me didn’t… why would anyone else?”
That belief took root and grew fast.
College: The Distraction Era
I got to college and ran — into busyness, into parties, into drinking, into boys, into anything that felt loud enough to drown out the emptiness.
Spoiler: none of it worked.
I didn’t know what to do with the darkness in me, so I just tried to outrun it. And I was fast. Track-star emotional avoidance.
But then came the trauma I didn’t have the language for at the time — the assaults, the coercion, the hypersexual coping, the spiral.
The “hoe phase” that made perfect sense to my brain back then, even though the world misunderstands it.
And right when I was about to go full chaos for a spring break in Panama City, God did something deeply inconvenient.
He sent two Christian college kids to draw diagrams in the sand.
The Beach Moment That Changed Everything
It was late. Everyone on the beach was mysteriously asleep except me (still creepy to think about). Two strangers walked up — part of this missionary group called BeachReach — and I only talked to them because I was bored and mildly tipsy.
They talked about emptiness.
About the hole inside us.
About how every attempt to fill it is really us reaching for God.
And I remember staring down the beach, looking at my life, and thinking:
“Oh. They’re talking about me.”
It didn’t convert me that night.
But it planted something.
A seed I tried very hard to ignore.
The Moment I Half-Joked My Way Into Faith
Months later, still empty, still spiraling, still exhausted, I made a joke to myself:
“Maybe I actually need Jesus.”
And I laughed — but for some reason, the thought didn’t leave.
Fast forward again. I was at the point of:
“Either I try this Jesus thing, or I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Then came a random campus Bible study I’d never seen advertised before in four whole years. I walked in expecting judgment and rules.
Instead, I heard the gospel for the very first time.
Not the Catholic guilt flavor.
Not the “earn God’s love by perfection” flavor.
Just… love. Grace. A God who wanted me. A Jesus who would have gone to the cross even if I were the only human on earth.
I couldn’t ignore that.
I didn’t want to.
So quietly, privately, I became a Christian.
Therapy, Mono, and the Slow Work of Healing
Grad school. North Carolina. Roommates who loved Jesus. Me trying to repair my whole internal world.
Mono took away all my coping skills, which I still believe was divine sabotage because it forced me into therapy.
Therapy validated the things everyone else told me I imagined.
Therapy named my trauma.
Therapy reopened my connection to my own intuition.
Healing is wild like that — it sneaks up on you through things you didn’t want.
Becoming a Somatic Sex Educator: The Plot Twist No Pastor Saw Coming
Here’s what people never expect:
My interest in sex wasn’t rebellion — it was lifelong curiosity, education, and a desire to understand relationships, intimacy, and the body.
When I learned about somatic sex education, it was a FULL-BODY YES.
The same yes I felt when I found Jesus.
The same yes I feel when something is deeply aligned.
I prayed about it.
Wrestled with it.
Asked, “Lord… can Christians even be here?”
And what I kept hearing — again and again — was:
“My people aren’t in this space. I need them here.”
So I said yes.
And it transformed my life.
My body healed.
My relationship with myself healed.
My relationship with God deepened.
There is fruit. Good fruit.
Which is why what happened next cut so deeply.
The Day My Church Told Me Not to Come Back
I had just moved back to Wilmington. I found a church I felt at home in — one filled with community, one filled with diversity, one I felt excited about.
I volunteered.
I showed up.
I prayed about joining the worship team.
And then:
I asked about helping on Sunday.
On Tuesday, someone emailed me wanting to “talk about the worship team.”
On Wednesday, I opened my laptop, still eating leftover mac and cheese, expecting questions about vocal ranges and rehearsal schedules.
Instead, the first words were:
“We’re concerned for your soul.”
They had researched me.
My website.
My school.
My work.
And concluded that my career made me sexually immoral and unfit for their community.
Then they told me:
They were asking me not to return to services.
Not just leadership roles.
Not just volunteering.
Church.
They literally asked me not to come back.
It shattered me.
I had never heard of a Christian being asked to leave, not for abuse, not for harm, not for endangering anyone —
but for their job.
I cried in my office.
I questioned everything.
I emailed the pastor, hoping maybe I misunderstood.
But he confirmed it.
The decision stood.
Why I’m Sharing This Now
Because almost a year later, the spiritual trauma still sits in my body.
Because now when I meet a new Christian, my nervous system stiffens before it softens.
Because there are people reading this who have been hurt by churches too — LGBTQ folks, divorced folks, single mothers, survivors, sex-positive Christians, deconstructing Christians — and this is my way of saying:
You are not alone.
You are not imagining it.
And God is not the one rejecting you.
I can say confidently:
If I were a new believer, what they did would have pushed me straight out of the faith.
And that is the part that breaks me the most.
Yet Somehow… I Still Love Jesus
That’s the miracle.
Because my faith was never in them.
My faith is in the God who found me on a beach full of passed-out strangers.
The God who whispered to me through therapy sessions and quiet car rides.
The God who keeps showing up in my healing, my pleasure, my body, my work.
The God who does not abandon me.
The God who does not shame me.
The God who is not afraid of my calling.
If You Want the Receipts (Here Are the Emails)
1. My Email to the Pastor
(March 19, 2025, 10:32 PM)
Hello Pastor [REDACTED],
I’m coming to you with a heavy heart. I had a conversation with [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] in which it ended with me being told that I was not invited back to [REDACTED CHURCH] due to my current career aspirations. I understood not being invited to be a part of the praise and worship team since it is a front-facing position but I was very taken aback by being told to no longer come to services.
I’m very hurt by this experience, especially since I was so excited to start attending your church. I had made the decision this week to make this my home and jump all in. I’ve felt so at home in your church. I now feel so rejected and this doesn’t feel like the way a church led by the Holy Spirit would respond.
This is a very complex and unknown field so I understand the concern. I would have hoped for more than one conversation about this before being kicked out due to its complexity. I was told this was a decision made amongst the entire leadership and wanted confirmation on this decision.
I would appreciate any clarity on this decision.
Best Regards,
Makayla Anderson
2. His Response
(March 20, 2025, 3:05 PM)
Makayla,
I am truly sorry for the hurt and disappointment you're experiencing. We understand that this has been difficult.
First and foremost, we care deeply about your soul.
At [REDACTED CHURCH], we welcome everyone with love and grace. Our desire is to honor God’s Word while creating a space where people can be saved and grow spiritually. We are committed to upholding biblical convictions regarding holiness and Christian living. Scripture calls us to walk in alignment with God’s design for purity in both singleness and marriage, particularly in matters of sexual morality. As we build our church, we strive to hold firmly to biblical truth and the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Here are a few passages of Scripture that inform our beliefs on this matter: 1 Thessalonians 4:3-8; 1 Corinthians 6:13; Ephesians 5:3; Ephesians 5:5; 1 Corinthians 6:18-20; Hebrews 13:4; Colossians 3:5-6; Galatians 5:19-21; 1 John 1:5-9.
Taking into account available research on somatic sex therapy (including information from the institute where you were educated), the proximity to illegal sex work, and the current description of services on your business website, we believe this work to be sexually immoral and inconsistent with biblical teachings on sexual morality.
Given what you’re facing, and acknowledging that we are still in the early stages of our church’s development, we believe there may be other more established local churches that are better equipped to walk alongside you through a process of deliverance and healing, should that be your desire.
While we may reflect on how this situation could have been handled differently in time, please rest assured that this decision was made with careful thought, prayer, conviction, the counsel of the Holy Spirit, and a sincere commitment to God's Word.
Our heart is never to push anyone away, but to remain faithful to the truth of Scripture and love people well. Sometimes, that may involve recognizing our own limitations in shepherding someone in the way they need. We are praying that you continue seeking Jesus' guidance in all things, and that you find a church home that is better equipped to support you in navigating this career choice.
With grace and truth,
[REDACTED]
Lead Pastor
[REDACTED CHURCH]
3. My Final Reply
(March 20, 2025, 10:06 PM)
[REDACTED],
Your response is disappointing but I see that all of your hearts have hardened against me, and were even before that meeting and there is nothing I could have said or say now to soften them. That is a thing that only God can change if it is in His will.
I pray that you do reflect on how this situation was handled and meditate on Romans 2:1-4 and John 8:7-11 in that reflection. I pray that you and those in leadership are truly led by the Holy Spirit and the truth of that is seen in the fruit that you bear. I also pray over your flock that they trust in their own discernment from the Holy Spirit to know when they hear truth and when Satan is planting deceit.
I forgive you and leadership for this hurt and pain you have inflicted and pray you never hurt another part of the body like this again. I praise the Lord that this in no way deters me from Him and the intimate relationship I have with Him. I trust in Him and the path he has set out for me.
Best of luck and may the Lord be with you.
Blessings and peace,
Makayla Anderson