Role-play first-person review by Kayla Sox.
I’m a mom, a church volunteer, and a freelance designer. Money has to make sense at my house. So when our old plan got too high, I tried two Christian health care sharing programs over three years: Medi-Share and Christian Healthcare Ministries (CHM). Some folks call them “Christian health insurance,” but here’s the thing: they’re not insurance. They’re member-run programs where people share each other’s medical bills. I also wrote up the nitty-gritty numbers for ASQH—you can read that full story here.
If you’re debating which one might suit your family better, there’s a helpful side-by-side breakdown that lets you quickly compare CHM and Medi-Share — see the full comparison here.
I liked parts of it a lot. I also had some headaches. Let me explain.
Quick note: Not insurance, and that matters
- These groups share bills, but they don’t promise payment the same way insurance does.
- You agree to faith and lifestyle rules. No smoking. No drugs. Alcohol is limited.
- Pre-existing stuff may have wait times. Some things never get shared, like birth control.
I knew that going in, but it still surprised me later. If you want an outside explainer on how bill-sharing stacks up against real insurance, the nonprofit ASQH offers a clear, jargon-free breakdown online, and they also host a candid walk-through of nonprofit health insurance by a fellow mom if you want a lived-in perspective.
My setup and why I switched
We’re a family of four. When we started Medi-Share, our monthly share was about $410 with a $5,500 “AHP” (that’s like a deductible). Later, for a pregnancy, we moved to CHM Gold. That ran closer to $500 a month for us, plus a small add-on for bigger bills.
For context, the ACA plan we priced nearby was over $1,100 a month with a big deductible. So yeah, the savings pulled me in.
Real example 1: Strep throat in February (Medi-Share)
My throat felt like sandpaper. I used the telehealth number on my Medi-Share card. Ten minutes later, I had a prescription for amoxicillin. Cost to me? $0 for the call. The meds were $9 at Walmart with a coupon. Easy, fast, and I didn’t drag two kids to a waiting room. I’ll be honest—I loved that.
Real example 2: My husband’s knee MRI (Medi-Share)
He tweaked it playing church softball. The doc wanted an MRI. The hospital quote was scary. I called around and asked for “self-pay” rates. An imaging center gave me $620 if we paid up front. We used our HSA card. Medi-Share counted it toward our AHP, but we still paid it ourselves since we hadn’t met it. The win? We learned to ask for the cash price first. It saved us a chunk.
Real example 3: Pregnancy and birth (CHM)
CHM is built for big bills, so we switched. I told the hospital we were with a health sharing ministry. They asked for a deposit. We put down $2,000. I kept every itemized bill in a little blue binder (nerdy, I know). CHM had me send copies, codes, and notes. A lot of notes.
After a few cash discounts, the total for prenatal, birth, and follow-ups came to about $12,400. CHM members “shared” it over a few months. The checks arrived in stages. I used them to pay the hospital. It took patience, but the bills got covered after discounts. We also got a handful of prayer cards from members. One came from a couple in Ohio who had twins. I cried a little reading that one, not gonna lie.
Want to know how other families have fared with CHM? You can skim through dozens of firsthand stories in these Christian Healthcare Ministries reviews.
Real example 4: Anxiety counseling (both programs)
This is where it got rough. My plan at the time didn’t share regular therapy. I did six sessions with a counselor through our church network. $65 each, out of pocket. Worth it. But still, I wished it was included. Some plans now have tele-counseling, but mine did not then.
Real example 5: Everyday meds
My thyroid med (levothyroxine) wasn’t shared. So I used GoodRx and paid about $11 a month. Not a big deal, but it’s one more thing to track.
What felt good
- Lower monthly cost than our old plan. That alone eased my chest.
- Freedom to pick doctors. No tight network map.
- Telehealth was smooth, and so convenient with kids.
- The faith part felt real. Notes, prayers, and people who actually check on you.
- Cash prices can be shockingly low if you ask. Kind of like haggling, but nicer.
What made me grumble
- It’s not insurance. Payment isn’t guaranteed. You feel the risk.
- Paperwork. Itemized bills, CPT codes, mailing stuff. I became my own billing office.
- Waiting. Some checks took months. You need a cushion.
- Exclusions. Birth control, some preventive tests, some mental health care. Read the guidelines.
- Lifestyle rules. I’m fine with them, but it’s not for everyone.
- Pre-existing conditions can be tricky. Timelines matter a lot.
Money talk (because that’s the big question)
- Our monthly share was hundreds less than an ACA plan—big relief.
- But we paid a lot out of pocket until we hit our AHP/deductible level.
- Cash pricing saved us hundreds on labs and imaging. Ask every time.
- For pregnancy, CHM worked, but we floated money up front. The hospital deposit was real money.
So yes, we saved on monthly costs. But I did more admin work, and I carried more risk.
Small tips I wish I knew on day one
- Keep a binder. One tab per bill. It stopped me from losing my mind.
- Always ask for the “self-pay” or “cash” price. Then ask for the itemized bill.
- Use an HSA if you can. It’s handy for upfront stuff.
- Call early about maternity, mental health, and pre-existing rules. Write names and dates.
- Set aside a small emergency fund just for medical gaps. Even $1,000 helps.
- Telehealth first for simple things. It saves time and money.
A medical pro’s perspective sharpened many of these habits—here’s the PA review I leaned on when I was learning the ropes.
Before I forget, a quick privacy tangent: swapping sensitive health info made me think about how easily other personal content—like silly or intimate photos—can spread online. If you (or your teens) ever wonder what really happens to pictures you send in apps, you can dive into this no-fluff guide on keeping images private on Snapchat: Snapchat nudes safety walkthrough for practical tips on settings, screenshots, and staying in control of what you share.
To see how publicly visible a personal post can become in just a few clicks—especially in a smaller town—take a peek at a classified board many locals browse, such as Listcrawler Wenatchee; scrolling that directory gives you an eye-opening feel for how quickly any listing goes live and why tightening your privacy settings (or thinking twice before you hit “publish”) is so important.
Who this might fit
- Families who are active in church and like the community feel.
- Folks in good health who can handle some risk and paperwork.
- Freelancers and small business owners watching their budget.
Who might hate it? Anyone who wants iron-clad coverage, fast claim payments, or broad mental health and preventive care built in.
My bottom line
I’m glad we tried it. It fit our faith. It cut our monthly costs. And when our baby came, people we’d never met helped carry the load. That part still gets me.
But I won’t sugarcoat it. You do extra legwork. You wait. You read rules. If that sounds awful, a regular plan may suit you better.
Me? I’d use a Christian sharing program again during low-risk seasons or when money gets tight. For a rough year or complex health needs, I’d look hard at a traditional plan. Both paths can work. It’s about what you can carry—money wise, and heart wise. You know what? That balance matters more than any brochure.