Healing Starts with Honesty
There’s something sacred about a church that admits it’s hurting. When we strip away the smiles, the polite “I’m fine,” and the quiet pretending, we find the very place where God does His best work — the truth.
Romans is full of hard but freeing truth. Paul doesn’t write from a mountaintop of perfection. He writes from the trenches, from his own wrestling with sin, frustration, and the tension of wanting to do good yet often doing the opposite. “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (Romans 7:15). That’s not a man pointing fingers. That’s a man holding up a mirror.
When we experience conflict or pain in a church family, it’s easy to look out the window, to see what others have done wrong. But healing doesn’t start there. Healing starts with the mirror. Paul writes, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment” (Romans 12:3).
That’s not about guilt. It’s about ownership. It’s about saying, “God, here’s what’s going on inside me, the anger, the sadness, the fear, the disappointment. I’m not going to hide it anymore.” Because when we hide, we stay stuck. But when we’re honest, light gets in.
Scripture tells us, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Healing isn’t just between you and God, it’s also something that happens in community, when we risk being real with one another.
We often want God to fix our circumstances, but He’s more interested in transforming our hearts. That starts with transparency. God can’t heal what we pretend isn’t broken.
And make no mistake, every single one of us is a work in progress. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). That’s not a verse of shame; it’s an invitation to grace. None of us stand above another. We all stand together, dependent on mercy that doesn’t run out.
Let’s be real — honesty doesn’t come easy, especially in the church, and especially here in Minnesota. We’ve been trained to be polite, to keep the peace, and to avoid making things uncomfortable. We say “It’s fine” even when it isn’t. We smile through pain because we don’t want to burden others.
But spiritual maturity isn’t found in quiet avoidance. It’s found in truth spoken with grace. Pretending keeps relationships shallow. Honesty — even awkward, tear-filled honesty — is what deepens trust and invites God’s Spirit to move.
We sometimes think being emotional makes us weak, but it’s actually a sign of strength. Jesus Himself wept (John 11:35). He felt sorrow, anger, compassion, and even loneliness. If the Son of God wasn’t afraid to feel, why should we be?
The Work of Healing
We can’t control how others respond, but we are responsible for our own healing. That means asking:
Am I honest with God about what I feel?
Am I allowing His Spirit to deal with my heart before I react to others?
Am I extending to others the same grace I desperately need myself?
Paul says in Romans 12:18, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” Some peace depends on them. But much of it depends on us.
A healthy church isn’t a perfect one. It’s a church that knows how to be broken together and still believe that God is making something new.
C. S. Lewis once said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Pain is often the doorway to awakening. If we will listen, even our hurts can become holy ground.
So if you’re reading this and your heart feels weary or defensive, take a breath. You don’t have to carry all of it. God isn’t asking you to pretend. He’s asking you to come honestly.
Healing starts there, with truth, grace, and the courage to look in the mirror before looking out the window.
“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.” — Romans 12:9–10