The Moment I Almost Quit Sharing Goodness Online

When I first felt called to share goodness online, it wasn’t because I thought I had something special to say. It was because I couldn’t not say it. I had spent years quietly feeling nudges from the Spirit- small impressions to use my voice, my testimony, and to build a platform to bring light into a world that seemed increasingly loud with cynicism and confusion.

It wasn’t about going viral or gaining followers. It was about connection. It was about testifying of truth in a way that felt natural and real. I wanted people, especially those quietly struggling with their faith, to know that discipleship could be both joyful and messy, that you could be a normal, imperfect human and still fiercely love the gospel of Jesus Christ.

But then came that comment.

“It’s because of you that people leave the church.”

A total stranger wrote it. Nine words. And for a moment, they landed like a punch. I remember staring at the screen, my heart racing, my mind spinning. I thought, What if they’re right? What if my words, my posts, my efforts to share goodness are actually pushing people away instead of drawing them closer?

That comment cracked something open in me.

I started to replay everything I’d shared online. The posts about faith, motherhood, modesty, personal revelation, the temple. I questioned my motives. I wondered if I was being misunderstood, if I was too bold, too naive, too “churchy.” For a few days, I considered walking away from social media altogether.

But when I prayed about it, the answer was clear and gentle: Don’t quit. Just listen.

That phrase settled into my heart. Don’t quit. Remember: the Lord called you to this work. Listen to Him more than the crowd. Listen to the Spirit more than the comments. Listen to the quiet confirmations that remind you who you are and why you’re doing this.

The truth is, that commenter didn’t know me. They didn’t see the hours I spend studying, praying, and checking my heart before I post. They didn’t know that I sometimes second-guess every word, hoping it reaches someone who needs it but never hurts someone who’s healing. They were projecting their pain, and for a brief moment, I almost took it on as my own.

But once I recognized that, something shifted.

Instead of letting criticism silence me, I started letting it refine me. Every time I sit down to write or post, I check in with God: Is this what You want me to share? Is this my story, or Yours? And I’ve noticed that when my focus is on Him, not on pleasing or defending or explaining, the peace comes back. Every time.

That comment, as painful as it was, became a turning point. It taught me that the call to share goodness isn’t about perfection or popularity. It’s about obedience. It’s about standing in the storm with love, even when the wind howls and strangers throw words like stones.

So no, I didn’t quit. I almost did, but I didn’t. Because goodness is worth sharing. Truth is worth standing for. And every time I’m tempted to shrink back, I remember: if one person can use their voice to spread darkness, then surely one person can use theirs to bring light.

And as long as God keeps nudging me to speak, I’ll keep showing up.

Stay tuned for my next Substack: Conversations with My Heavenly Father (a peek into my prayers and how God speaks to me)