About

The hardest stories to write

are the ones that desperately need to be told.

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For years, I had an invisible, unspoken battle with my faith. It wasn’t something that happened all at once; it festered in the quiet moments. In doubts I wouldn’t voice, in questions I was too scared to ask, in mistakes I tried to hide. Over time, those battles grew heavier and more constant, until suddenly God felt unfamiliar and far away. I started to believe that my jagged edges were too much, too broken, too flawed, until finally I fell away from my faith entirely.

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It wasn’t until after I moved and decided to visit a new church that things began to change. The first day I visited, I had a panic attack in the parking lot and almost didn’t go in. We don’t talk enough about how scary church can be when you feel like an outsider. 

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Around that same time, by chance—or what I later realized felt far more like divine intervention—one of my favorite creative magazines, one I had been desperate to be published by as an aspiring writer, released a submission call for their newest themed issue. 

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The theme of the issue? GODS. 

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So, I wrote about my experience returning to church for the first time. I wrote about my fear, my doubt, and all the questions I didn’t know how to answer. I wrote words I had never allowed myself to say out loud, doubts I had buried so deeply I hadn’t even realized the cavern they’d carved between me and the One who created me. When I finished, I almost threw up. No joke. I felt sick with fear, convinced I had crossed some invisible line by putting it all into words and making it feel tangible and real. Still, I submitted the piece to the magazine, fully believing no one would ever read it and that I could quietly move on as if it never happened.

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But then the story was picked up by a senior editor at the creative magazine. When he reached out with an offer to collaborate, he said something that caught me completely off guard. 

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He told me my story wasn’t finished.

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With his encouragement, I kept writing. Over the course of a year, I revised the piece alongside him, talking through my faith struggles and uncovering what was happening beneath the surface of the words. He pushed me to go deeper, to say the things I was still afraid to name. And as I wrote, something unexpected happened: I found myself going back to that same church that had once terrified me. I realized it wasn’t so scary.

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Slowly but surely, my story began to change. It changed as I rediscovered God’s love. His mercy. His grace. His joy in seeing me pray, worship, and step back into fellowship for the first time in years.

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I didn’t realize how much writing this piece mattered until it opened the door to conversations inside and outside the church that were both humbling and healing. People I had always assumed were steadfast—people I thought never doubted or stumbled the way I had—began telling me, Bekah, I’ve felt this too. I’ve lived this. What started as a story I was afraid to write became something that gave me hope, and later, made me feel less alone. I finally felt seen by a community I didn’t even know I was missing, one that reminded me I didn’t have to be perfect, or pretend to be, to be worthy of God’s love and forgiveness. An imperfect yet loving community willing to walk with me in my faith journey, one that was willing to meet me exactly where I was.

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Jagged Edges is a product of that life-altering experience. Through these testimonials, these real stories from real people wrestling with their faith, I hope to show those that are struggling with their walk with faith that they are not alone in their fear or questions. I want to give others the good news that, no matter how long it’s been since they’ve last stepped into a church, or even if they never have, God loves their jagged edges, no matter how sharp. 

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Long story short: through sharing and hearing authentic stories of faith and struggle, the end goal of Jagged Edges is to make you feel less alone in the often intimidating and precarious walk to Jesus. To know you are loved, and that, no matter what, God is waiting at the end of it all with open, loving arms. 

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Ready to start telling your story? Click here.