Back to the Path: Why I’m Speaking Up Again

The Day a Pastor Told Me I Couldn’t Be a Christian—And What God Told Me Instead

There was a time when I lost my voice.

Not because I didn’t have something to say—but because I was afraid no one wanted to hear it.

After college, I found myself in a season of silence. I moved back to a deeply conservative area of Texas, stepped into the corporate world, and quietly folded parts of myself in just to get by. I toned down my opinions. I stayed out of the political fray. I buried the fire I once had—because I didn’t want to make waves, or worse, be misunderstood.

But I’ve come to realize that playing small isn’t humility—it’s fear. And fear is not from God.

I was never meant to be quiet. I was never meant to be neutral. I was never meant to sit on the sidelines while injustice went unchecked.

Going to college in Lubbock, Texas didn’t open my eyes to new perspectives—being on the debate team did.

Traveling across the country, meeting people from all walks of life, and debating real-world issues forced me to think critically about the world beyond my own experience. If you’ve ever been on a debate team, you know what I mean—you’re constantly analyzing policy, predicting long-term impacts, and reading global news to understand cause and effect. That’s where my worldview began to shift.

As a former foster kid, I know what it’s like to starve. I know what it means to rely on government programs just to survive. I’ve had to build my life from the ground up. So when I vote liberal, it’s not because I’m naive. It’s because I believe I’m voting for the values Jesus held closest to His heart—care for the poor, the oppressed, the sick, and the outcast. I truly feel like I’m living out the calling God placed on my life.

Ask anyone who knew me growing up: the only thing I’ve consistently said since I was rescued from poverty and addiction is that I want to help others like me. It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense.

So when a megapastor I used to respect said that you can’t be a true Christian unless you vote Republican—I knew instantly he was wrong. Because I know the voice of God in my life. And I have never been more sure of anything than the call He gave me to speak truth and advocate for justice.

After college, I pulled back from speaking out publicly. I moved back home to a very red area and felt like I had to tone things down to survive in the corporate world. I was also exhausted—burned out from the extreme polarization I’d experienced in the college debate space. I had a lot of questions I was still wrestling with. I tried posting about safer topics: motherhood, workouts, fashion, productivity. But none of it stuck. None of it felt like me.

Everything changed this year.

Watching what’s happening to our democracy—the erosion of truth, the rise of dangerous ideologies, the lack of media literacy—I couldn’t stay silent anymore. I realized that if something this toxic could infiltrate the church I once called home, then it was time to speak up.

So I did.

I started posting on Threads and TikTok, sharing my story, speaking truth, and walking in the calling God gave me.

And almost immediately—I saw growth.

Almost a million views. Over 2,000 followers in under 30 days. But more than that? I felt peace. I felt alignment. For the first time, I wasn’t forcing content—I was living out the message I was born to share.

I believe God gave me this voice for a reason. And for a while, I let shame and doubt silence it.

But I’m done hiding.

I know what it’s like to be vulnerable and unseen. I know what it’s like to grow up in survival mode, to feel like you’re too much and not enough all at once. I know what it’s like to be told that your faith is invalid because it doesn’t align with someone else’s politics.

But I also know what it’s like to be rescued. Redeemed. Restored.

And I refuse to waste that miracle.

This platform, this voice, this fire—it’s not about me. It’s about the ones who don’t yet know they’re worthy. The ones who are still silenced by fear or shame. The ones who need to hear that you can walk away from the noise and still find your way back to the truth.

So I’m speaking up.

For the vulnerable. For the poor. For the ones who’ve been told their story disqualifies them from being used by God.

Because mine doesn’t.

And neither does yours.

This is my calling.

God didn’t save me so I could stay silent.

He didn’t rescue me from addiction, poverty, and generational trauma so I could shrink back when things got uncomfortable. He gave me a voice—and I intend to use it.

For a while, I let shame and doubt hold me back. I worried what people would think. I tried to blend in, stay quiet, fit the mold. But none of that was ever meant for me.

I was made to speak up.

To fight for the vulnerable.

To tell the truth, even when it’s unpopular.

To remind people that you can be both broken and called.

Reader Reflection:

Have you ever quieted your voice out of fear, pressure, or doubt?

What would it look like to trust God with your story—and begin speaking up again?

Prayer:

God, help me recognize the moments when fear or shame have pulled me off the path You set for me. Give me the courage to return—not perfectly, but faithfully. Remind me that my voice matters, not because it’s loud, but because it’s Yours. Use my story, my pain, and my passion to serve the people You’ve called me to love. I’m ready to walk in the calling You’ve placed on my life. Amen.

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