Taking A Stand

When Taking a Stand Feels Like Standing Alone

I was doing great yesterday… right up until my phone rang.

It wasn’t that kind of call. No tragedy, no emergency. Just unexpected. The kind that quietly shifts the ground beneath your feet without asking permission.

A friend called to tell me about a meeting at a church I used to attend. A meeting… about me.

Apparently, someone had been spreading a rumor that I was in contact with the ministry team. Contact about what? I’m still not entirely sure. What I do know is this: they were told not to communicate with me because I no longer attend the church.

Eight years.

Eight years of serving alongside my husband. I was a base leader. I helped cover our pastor and his family in prayer. I answered church phones, handled tithes and offerings, and helped oversee the ministry. Responsibilities built on trust.

But somewhere between leaving the building and living my life, that trust seemed to evaporate.

It’s a strange feeling… to go from trusted to questioned without ever being spoken to.

If you’re codependent—like I am, or recovering from it—you know this internal tug-of-war well. The questions start lining up like dominoes:

Am I overreacting?
Should I just let it go?
Or do I finally stand up for myself?

Because confrontation doesn’t come naturally to people like us. We’re peacemakers… sometimes at the cost of our own peace.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe: a title—pastor or otherwise—is a role, not a shield. Leadership should never be above accountability. In fact, the moment someone becomes unreachable or uncorrectable is the moment things get a little dangerous.

After talking it through with my closest friend over breakfast, I made a decision.

I’m going to speak up.

Not because it’s easy. Not because I expect a perfect response. But because staying silent would cost me more.

When you’ve spent most of your life trying to keep everyone else comfortable, choosing yourself can feel like stepping onto a stage with no script. Your hands shake. Your thoughts race. And still… you step forward.

Because if not now, then when?

I don’t want to carry another “I should have said something” with me. I’ve collected enough of those over the years.

So today, I draw a line.

Not in anger. Not in rebellion. But in self-respect.

As for how I’ll do it… call, email, or text? I’ve chosen what I’ll call the “modern adult” route: a text. Clear, direct, and honest.

We’ll see how it unfolds.

In the meantime, keep me in your prayers. And if today finds you facing your own hard conversation, know this—you’re not the only one standing at that edge.

Sometimes loving yourself well looks like this:

A deep breath.
A steady hand.
And the courage to press send.

By Julie Payne