There are seasons of life when faith feels steady, and seasons when everything you thought was secure crumbles. For me that season came during my divorce. This is the story of how a small group met me in that moment and helped rebuild my faith.
The year my divorce began was one of the hardest seasons I’ve walked through. It felt like one challenge after another—court dates, hard conversations, and decisions I never imagined I’d have to make.
I remember coming home one day and finding my belongings packed into boxes in my room. Something in me broke. I ended up face down on the driveway, crying harder than I ever had, completely overwhelmed and unsure what to do next. Even with my parents nearby, I felt alone.
I called the police, hoping someone could fix it, but they couldn’t intervene. My husband and I were still technically married. Nothing visibly changed in that moment, but something shifted in me.
In the middle of the chaos, I felt a calm I can only describe as the Holy Spirit. My panic and anger didn’t magically disappear, but they loosened their grip. I remember thinking, “This is not what God wants for me. There has to be more than this.” That moment didn’t fix everything; I still had a long road ahead.
I moved in with my parents and had to sell my house. It felt like closing a chapter I wasn’t ready to let go of. Through it all, I wondered, “Where do I belong now?”
I grew up in church. My parents were founding members at Shepherd’s Gate, and church had always been part of my routine. But after my divorce, I realized something had shifted. Many of my close friendships had been tied to my previous season of life. As those relationships changed, I found myself without the kind of everyday community I depended on.
Not long after, I started dating my now-husband. From the beginning, he came to church with me. We sat with my parents, just like I had for years. For a while, we explored other churches—he came from a Catholic background, and I had grown up Lutheran—trying to find what felt right for both of us. But we kept coming back to Shepherd’s Gate.
Looking back, I think part of that pull was familiarity. But a bigger part was this: I needed people.
I needed people who knew my story More than fellow parishioners I sat beside at church, but people who we could be honest with, and who would walk alongside us in this new season. So I joined a women’s Bible study at Shepherd’s Gate.
It sounds simple. But at that point in my life, showing up to a room full of women I didn’t know felt incredibly vulnerable. I was carrying everything I had just been through. I didn’t feel put together. I didn’t feel confident. I wasn’t sure how I’d be received.
What I found was kindness. The women at my table welcomed me in without hesitation. They didn’t need me to have everything figured out or expect me to be anything other than where I was. For the first time in a while, I started to feel seen. Not long after, a few of them invited me to join their small group.
It felt like a bigger step, in some ways a deeper level of connection. But I remembered something from growing up. My parents had been part of a small group for years, and those people were a big part of our lives. They showed up for birthdays, hard seasons, and everything in between. They felt like our extended family.
So I said yes.
At first, I went on my own. These were people making space to gather, talk about faith, and support each other. It was awesome. Less than six months later, my husband started coming too! What started as something I needed began to shape us as a couple—and eventually, as a family.
Over time, that group became more than just a weekly meeting. We shared meals, had real conversations. We showed up for each other in hard moments and celebrated the good ones. Many of us had young kids. Over the years, we’ve watched them grow up together. Somewhere along the way, this group became home.
Here’s what I didn’t realize at the beginning:
There’s something powerful about gathering with a small group, opening up about real life, and being reminded you’re not walking through it alone. That kind of connection doesn’t happen instantly, but it builds over time.
For me, joining a small group at Shepherd’s Gate is part of how God rebuilt my life. When I felt like I had lost friendships, He gave me community. When I didn’t know what I needed, He gave me support.
He reshaped how I see church—not just as a building you visit, but as a community you live in.
If life feels full… or disconnected… or uncertain right now, You don’t have to have it all figured out first. You can start small. Say yes to a group. You might find—like I did—that what feels like a small step becomes something God uses in a much bigger way.
