There’s a part of the brainwashing process that I read about that hit close to home. It said that once someone’s sense of self has been completely broken down — when they no longer trust their own mind or instincts — that’s when they’re most open to control. At that stage, the manipulator offers a way out: salvation. But only if you abandon everything you once believed and embrace their version of truth.
That’s exactly what happens in so many churches. They start by tearing you down — telling you you’re a sinner, unworthy, lost, that without God you are nothing. Then they offer you a ladder out of the pit they pushed you into. But each rung on that ladder belongs to them: confess, repent, fast, give, obey. Do all this and you’ll be saved.
And they dress it up in programs that sound noble — “Finding Your God-Given Purpose,” “Unlocking Your Destiny,” “Becoming Who God Created You to Be.” Those sessions pull you in with hope, especially when you’re already broken. You sit in those rooms believing you’ll finally understand why life feels empty, why things keep going wrong. But you leave with even more confusion — now convinced that you can’t possibly find meaning unless you know God the right way, their way.
It’s a cruel loop. You get told that maybe you haven’t prayed enough, or fasted enough, or released your pain enough. That maybe your blessings are “blocked” because you haven’t forgiven, or you still carry sin, or your family has a curse. There’s always one more spiritual diagnosis, one more formula for healing. And when nothing changes, you don’t question the system — you question yourself.
I used to live that cycle. I’d ask myself, Why hasn’t my faith worked? What did I do wrong? And instead of rest or relief, I’d double down — wake up for 3 a.m. prayers, fast for two weeks straight, pour out my last coins as offering, all hoping this time it would finally click. It never did.
Now I see it so clearly. The constant guilt, the endless programs, the fasting, the sleep deprivation — all of it breaks you down just enough to make you easier to rebuild into whatever they want. They take your exhaustion and call it surrender. They take your fear and call it faith.
The truth is, there was never anything wrong with me. I didn’t need saving. I needed peace, rest, and a little trust in my own mind again.
And that’s the part they never tell you — the moment you stop searching for your “God-given purpose,” you start finding your real one.