by Sean Samuel
When you start walking away from what you once believed, you lose more than religion — you lose your rhythm.
Church used to have structure.
There were hymns, greetings, sermons, and smiles that sometimes felt more like masks than mirrors.
Now, the times I used to be in church are quiet. No pews. No pastor. Just me, my thoughts, and the sound of birds doing what they were made to do — sing without fear.
At first, that quiet felt like emptiness. Like I’d walked out of something sacred and into a void. But over time, I realized something wild — maybe the sacred was never in the building. Maybe it was always in the being.
I started small.
A few minutes of breathing before checking my phone.
Lighting a candle, not for ritual, but for focus.
Sitting in silence until the silence felt like home.
And in that space, something shifted.
I stopped begging God to show up — because I realized He never left.
I stopped trying to be “holy” — because I started learning how to be whole.
I became my own sanctuary.
Not in a prideful way, but in a peaceful one.
Because a sanctuary isn’t about walls or words — it’s about presence. Awareness. Stillness.
Now, when life feels heavy, I don’t run to a building or a preacher.
I close my eyes and listen to the quiet voice inside that says, “You’re safe. You’re loved. You’re here.”
And I think maybe that’s what all the prayers were meant to lead to — not dependency, but discovery.
If faith taught me how to seek God, deconstruction is teaching me how to find Him — not above me, but within me.
So wherever you are right now — at church, at home, or in that in-between space where old beliefs are crumbling — remember this:
You can build again.
You can breathe again.
You can become your own sanctuary.
If this resonated with you, share it with someone who’s rebuilding too.
And stick around — next week I’ll be writing about how meditation is teaching me to listen to life itself, not just to answers.