There’s a moment in every healing journey when pretending stops working. The smile gets heavy. The silence gets loud. The pressure builds until you finally whisper what your heart has been trying to say for years,
“This hurts.”
I used to believe that strength meant staying composed. Be the calm one. Be the agreeable one. Don’t cry. Don’t make anyone uncomfortable. Keep your pain tucked away like a secret drawer no one is allowed to open.
But if you hide long enough inside your own silence, you start to disappear.
Healing begins with truth, not performance. Peace comes after honesty, not before it. And if you’ve been living in survival mode, shrinking yourself or tiptoeing around dysfunction, I want you to know something right now:
God never asked you to pretend you’re okay.
He asked you to be real so He can be God.
Let’s walk through this together.
When You Stop Pretending You’re Okay
There were nights when I couldn’t hold the mask anymore. I remember whispering to God through tears, “This hurts more than I can handle.” I didn’t know it then, but that moment was holy. That moment was worship.
Because telling the truth is where healing begins.
When Jesus calmed the storm, He didn’t tell the disciples to “stop being dramatic.” He acknowledged the chaos and spoke into it with authority.
Real peace doesn’t come from acting like everything is fine.
Real peace comes from telling the truth about what hurts.
So let me ask you gently,
Where have you been pretending you’re okay?
What would happen if today, for the first time in a long time, you let your soul exhale?
The Weight You Were Never Meant to Carry
I spent years carrying emotions that weren’t mine.
If someone was angry, I felt responsible.
If the room was tense, I became the fixer.
If someone shut down, I assumed it was my fault.
I thought that was love, but it was fear.
Jesus never asked us to carry the weight of someone else’s chaos. He simply said, “Come to Me.” When we try to solve, absorb, or manage the emotions of everyone around us, we collapse under a burden that doesn’t belong in our hands.
Maybe you’ve been carrying,
someone’s silence,
someone’s addiction,
someone’s temper,
someone’s expectations.
Imagine writing each burden on a small piece of paper and handing them to Jesus one by one. Whisper, “I cast this on You,” and picture your shoulders relaxing for the first time in years.
Peace begins the moment you stop carrying what was never yours.
When Truth Hurts but Heals
Facing the truth is uncomfortable. Sometimes it stings so deeply that everything inside you wants to retreat. But ignoring pain doesn’t protect you. It prolongs it.
For a long time, I believed that seeing the truth would destroy everything I knew. But when I finally faced it, the manipulation, the fear, the generational patterns, something surprising happened.
Truth didn’t destroy me,
Truth delivered me.
Jesus doesn’t shame you for seeing reality. He steps into it with you. He doesn’t just bandage the surface, He touches the wound underneath.
If the truth you’re facing right now feels painful, don’t pull away. That sting might be the medicine working. Healing often begins where honesty hurts the most.
The Lie of “I’m Fine”
“I’m fine” might be two of the biggest lies we tell.
It sounds polite, mature, composed, responsible. But often it really means, “I’m barely holding it together.” I said it for years. I said it because vulnerability felt dangerous. I said it because honesty felt like trouble. I said it to avoid disappointing anyone or revealing parts of my story I didn’t know how to explain.
“I’m fine” can become a wall so strong that even God’s comfort has trouble getting through.
Here’s the truth,
God doesn’t need your perfect.
He wants your real.
When Paul said he would boast in his weakness, he wasn’t celebrating pain. He was celebrating the grace that met him in the middle of it.
When you finally say the real words, “I’m not okay, but I’m still here,” heaven leans in. That moment, right there, becomes the doorway to breakthrough.
Healing requires humility. It is not dramatic to need help. It is divine.
The Storm Has a Name , But So Does Peace
Every storm you’ve walked through has a name,
loss, betrayal, anxiety, trauma, shame, heartbreak.
But peace has a name too,
Jesus.
When the disciples panicked in the boat, Jesus didn’t join their panic. He stood up and spoke directly to the storm. And you can do the same thing with whatever chaos is swirling around or inside you.
You don’t have to stay silent in the middle of the storm. You don’t have to wait for calm skies to speak truth over your life. You can say, “Peace, be still,” and mean it, even while the waves are still crashing.
Facing the truth doesn’t make the storm stronger,
Facing the truth makes you steadier.
Once truth comes in, fear loses its grip.
You are not the storm.
You are the one Jesus is rescuing in it.
Stay Connected , Keep Growing With Me
If these words spoke to your heart and you want more devotionals, encouragement, and tools for healing and hope, I would love for you to join me on YouVersion.
Recent Comments