When the Church Won’t Call You Back: Our Story of Abuse, Courage, and Costly Truth

When the Church Won’t Call You Back: Our Story of Abuse, Courage, and Costly Truth

There are some stories you tell because they’re sweet.

And then there are stories you tell because silence would cost too much.

This one is both.

A Love Story Only God Could Write

Before there was a lawsuit…
Before there were depositions…
Before there was church hurt and public backlash…

There was a boy with a pawn shop drum set and a girl who didn’t answer his Facebook messages for four years.

Blaine grew up in Harlingen, Texas, the son of a military man. He was tiny until high school, bullied often, funny always, and allergic to authority in the most creative ways. He dropped out of high school, earned his GED (which he lovingly calls a “Good Enough Degree”), and fell in love with drums.

His dad once told him they couldn’t afford a $250 drum set. So Blaine stopped asking — but secretly called the pawn shop every day to see if it was still there.

One day the drum set was gone.

Later that afternoon, his dad pulled into the driveway with that same drum set in the back of the car.

That was Blaine’s beginning.

He went on to study at Drummers Collective in New York City, tour the country, play massive stages, appear on national television, and live the dream most musicians chase their entire lives.

But here’s what he learned:

Even when you reach the stage you thought would satisfy you, it can still feel empty.

That lesson would become important later.

The Miracle Before We Ever Met

We grew up in the same small town but never crossed paths.

Years later, Blaine messaged me on Facebook. I ignored him. For four years.

Finally, he sent a bold message that said something like:

“I’m around a lot of chicks. But for some reason, I’m drawn to you. You need to call me.”

So I did.

And when I heard his voice for the first time, something happened I still can’t fully explain. I had to pull my car over. It felt like electricity — like recognition.

That night, I told my mom about him. We pulled up his Facebook page. We scrolled through photos until we reached a family picture.

And my mom gasped.

Years earlier, when she was newly following Jesus, she had watched a visiting pastor pray over a woman weeping because she couldn’t have children. He told her:

“You will have a boy and a girl.”

Six months later, my mom saw that woman in the grocery store — pregnant.

That woman was Blaine’s mother.

The baby in her womb was Blaine.

Before we ever met… before Facebook… before heartbreak… before lawsuits…

God was already writing our story.

We were engaged two months after meeting in person.

Married four months later.

Pregnant five months after that (yes, while on birth control).

It was beautiful.

And then it got hard.

When the Dream Fell Apart

Right after we got married, Blaine lost his touring job.

He had been on the road 200+ days a year, playing major shows, sharing stages with big names, living what many would call “success.”

And in a moment, it was gone.

He flew home. I picked him up from the airport. He tried to act strong.

All he wanted was a Whataburger.

They gave him the wrong order.

He threw it against the wall.

Barbecue sauce everywhere.

It wasn’t about the burger.

It was about disappointment. Identity. Fear. Pressure. A brand-new marriage. Financial uncertainty.

And underneath it all — loneliness.

We didn’t have premarital counseling. We were young. We were fiery. We loved hard and argued hard.

And then the past came knocking.

The Truth I Hadn’t Fully Told

When I was 17, I was taken advantage of by my youth pastor.

For years, I minimized it. Compartmentalized it. Tried to move on.

But trauma doesn’t disappear because you ignore it.

It resurfaced years into our marriage — especially when my parents went through a divorce. Everything I had buried came flooding back.

For the first time, I told Blaine the full story.

He was heartbroken.

And angry.

He called the man who hurt me.

He demanded accountability.

And that’s when everything exploded.

When Telling the Truth Costs You

After confronting him, Blaine called the church he was attending at the time — Living Way Family Church — to warn the pastors.

They refused to speak to him.

Within days, we were served with an $85,000 defamation lawsuit.

They claimed we were lying.

They claimed Blaine threatened their children.

They tried to bury us in legal pressure.

What they didn’t expect?

We fought back.

Through court records and depositions, we uncovered past arrests for prostitution in Travis County. In depositions, the truth unraveled. Lies stacked up. Stories shifted.

Eventually, the defamation claims collapsed. They dropped their lawsuits.

The truth stood.

But here’s what shook us the most:

The pastors never called.

Even after evidence surfaced.

Even after depositions were public.

Even after the lawsuits failed.

Silence.

The Real Heartbreak

The lawsuit was stressful.

The financial pressure was real.

But the deepest wound?

Watching Christians defend image over truth.

Watching believers label boldness as bitterness.

Watching churches protect reputation instead of people.

We began to see something bigger than our personal story — a pattern. A culture of cover-up. Brand preservation. Image management.

It’s not limited to one denomination. It’s not limited to one movement. It’s a human problem — pride, ego, money, fear.

When “protecting the ministry” becomes more important than protecting the flock, something has gone terribly wrong.

Jesus didn’t build a brand.

He built a body.

And bodies heal through truth, not suppression.

Why We Still Speak

People ask us:

“Why don’t you just let it go?”

Here’s the answer:

Because Scripture doesn’t call us to silence in the face of unrepentant sin.

First, you go to the brother.

If that fails, you go to the church.

If that fails, you bring it into the light.

Transparency is not divisive.
Cover-ups are.

Repentance doesn’t file lawsuits.
Repentance owns the truth.

We’re not perfect. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve reacted emotionally at times. We’ve grown through fire.

But if being bold about protecting victims and calling out deception makes us look crazy to some — we can live with that.

What This Means for You

Maybe you’ve experienced abuse.

Maybe you’ve watched leadership ignore red flags.

Maybe you’ve been told that speaking up is “unforgiveness.”

Hear me clearly:

Silence is not holiness.

Truth is not rebellion.

Righteous anger at injustice is not sin.

Everything hidden will come to light. You can either bring it into the light voluntarily — or it will be exposed eventually.

God is not threatened by truth.

And neither should His church be.

The God Who Was Writing Before We Were Born

Through all of this — the lawsuits, the betrayals, the church hurt — one thing has remained steady:

God’s hand.

The same God who whispered a promise over a barren woman decades ago…

The same God who orchestrated a Facebook message years later…

The same God who protected us in court…

Is still writing.

He wastes nothing.

Not the pain.
Not the anger.
Not the exposure.
Not even the backlash.

If you’re walking through something heavy right now, I want you to know:

God sees.
God records.
God defends.
God restores.

And sometimes, He raises up voices not because they’re perfect — but because they’re willing.

And willing is enough.

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