[Verse 1] I knew the songs before I knew myself, knew every story sitting on that shelf. Folded little hands, believed every word, thought God was listening whenever I hurt. They called it sanctuary, told me I was safe, said nothing evil could live in that place. Then someone taught me what nobody should— how something called holy could still shelter something cruel. [Pre-Chorus] I didn’t turn my back on heaven, I was trying to survive. It’s hard to trust a God you’re told is watching when they could’ve stopped it if they’d tried. [Chorus] If church broke me, does Jesus still want me? If I can’t walk through those doors, can He come find me? If I lost my faith where they told me it lived, does heaven know the difference between leaving and being driven from it? I believed with the whole heart and they handed back bleeding— tell me, is doubt still a sin when somebody gave me a reason? If church broke me, does Jesus still want me? [Verse 2] I learned to flinch at words that once meant peace, at folded hands and people on their knees. A cross on the wall couldn’t comfort me then; I’d learned what could happen beneath one of them. I stopped asking questions I couldn’t survive, stopped looking for God where they swore He’d reside. And people called distance a failure of faith, like I chose to lose something I begged them to keep safe. [Pre-Chorus] I didn’t wake up unbelieving, I didn’t throw my faith away. I watched it become another thing I couldn’t touch without pain. [Chorus] If church broke me, does Jesus still want me? If I can’t walk through those doors, can He come find me? If I lost my faith where they told me it lived, does heaven know the difference between leaving and being driven from it? I believed with the whole heart and they handed back bleeding— tell me, is doubt still a sin when somebody gave me a reason? If church broke me, does Jesus still want me? [Bridge] If He’s really who they said He was, would He ask me to go back? Would He blame the frightened child in me for running when she had the chance? Would He stand beside the ones who hurt me, or outside those doors with me? If He knows exactly what they did there, maybe He knows why I can’t believe. And if heaven had been watching, surely heaven saw it too. So if there’s still a place there for me, I hope there’s nothing left to prove. I would’ve kept on believing if belief hadn’t hurt me first. I hope Jesus knows I didn’t leave Him— I just couldn’t stay in church. [Final Chorus] If church broke me, does Jesus still want me? If I can’t walk through those doors, will He come find me? If I lost my faith where they told me it lived, I need heaven to know the difference between leaving and being driven from it. I believed with the whole heart and they handed back bleeding— tell me, is doubt still a sin when somebody gave me a reason? If church broke me, if His people broke me, does Jesus still want me
