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With a Wink and a Smile

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By Bart Bentley

Do we hate sin anymore? The topic is not a comfortable one. As Christians we tend to gravitate toward teachings about family or love or spiritual power far more than we do about sin. When the old-fashioned preacher begins to speak boldly about sin, we may inwardly blanch, secretly hoping they will move on. Modern preaching tends to tiptoe around the topic in accordance with an unspoken preference on the part of listeners. 

As fallen people, we have a sinful reluctance to confront our own sinfulness. This reluctance subtly works against us, making us strangely averse to go to prayer or to engage in worship. It distracts the mind from focusing on spiritual issues. Gone unchecked for a long period of time, Christians can easily find themselves going through the motions of proclaiming that “Jesus saves” without even mentioning what He saves us from.  

As Christians, we must be willing to force our attention onto the hideousness of sin if we want to fully appreciate what Jesus has done for us. The old hymn writer was correct: “’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.” Without consistently confronting our sinful nature, our salvation becomes a matter of fact instead of a matter of rejoicing. 

Sin always hurts someone. There are no exceptions. Consider the story of Christopher McCandless. Christopher, a well-educated young adult, grew up in an upper middle class family. He was also altruistic and had strong inclinations to be alone and live off the land. He went adventuring on little or no money, having given away his sizable savings. He would go months without speaking to anyone. Eventually he found his way to Alaska. There, after a few survival missteps in the wilderness, Christopher starved to death. His body was found around nineteen days later by some seasonal hunters. 

Christopher’s story is sobering. Once his body and journal had been found, a magazine article was written about what had happened to him. That article morphed into a book, and the book into an award-winning movie, Into the Wild. Ironically, despite Christopher’s effort to live a life completely separate from the modern world, his choices profoundly affected the world from which he tried to separate himself. His story has influenced tens of thousands of people; some have even gone on to emulate him. His decisions made an impact on people he did not even know. The same is true with our decisions regarding sin. The connected nature of humanity and the planet makes it impossible to function in a vacuum. Our decisions will affect others no matter how hard we try to shield them from it. Our only choice is how it will affect them. 

Sin is pervasive. It infects our thoughts, our motivations, and our inmost being. We are reminded of this whenever we fall to temptation or even when we sin without thinking. We may repent, true enough, but even our motivations for repentance are often suspect. Are we repenting because we selfishly want God’s blessing on our lives? Are we repenting because we need God’s help later? Are we truly turning away from the type of behavior for which we are repenting? Thus, sin easily infects even our repentance. The old adage is true: even our tears of repentance need to be washed in the blood of Jesus. The Apostle Paul understood this. Seeing the pervasiveness of sin in his own life, he cried out, “Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 7:24-25). 

Sin is not just pervasive; it is powerful. Scripture teaches us that humanity’s original dwelling place was literally paradise. Our present condition, of course, is quite different. No one would use the word “paradise” to describe our current existence. The difference between the paradise we were made for and the dying world we now live in is due to the acceptance of sin. Again, sin is powerful. It is responsible for all of the death, misery, and pain the world has ever known. It is easy to glibly blame Adam and Eve for the whole problem. After all, it was their choice to eat the forbidden fruit, not ours. Nonetheless, the sad fact is that we affirm their choice with every sin we commit. The consequences of our sin are the same as theirs: death, misery, and pain. 

Consider for a very dark moment the nature of sin apart from Jesus. Sin is everywhere, spreading ever-growing pain and misery and death. There is no escape; there is no cure. There is no selfless love, nothing good. Virtue would primarily be useful only to serve vice. Earthly existence would be no more than a meaningless, momentary prelude to eternal torment, made inevitable by the iron grip of sin on every soul. Such a state of being is almost too horrible to contemplate. It is a place of utter fear and darkness.  

This is what Jesus saves us from – this place of utter darkness, hopelessness, and fear. Through Him we are not saved merely from hell; we are saved from the power of sin. With Jesus our lives are not a meaningless prelude to the eternal consequences of sin. Rather, our lives are a time of experiencing and expressing God’s love for our world. 

God hates sin, and we do not need to look far to find the reason. It brought death to His children (us), and it killed His one and only Son. Our attitude toward sin must be no less than His. We must hate it. We must refuse to entertain it or ignore it. We must never treat it with a wink and a smile. 

We must resist sin in all of its forms, from hedonism to legalism, from white lies to rage. Resisting it is not ineffectual, despite the pervasiveness of sin. By resisting sin, we give ourselves and those around us a glimpse of the goodness of God. We experience the freedom that was meant to go hand in hand with our salvation. It allows those we come into contact with to see Jesus in us. It helps us to grow closer to God, to be a better servant to Him. We become more of what God created us to be. 

Repentance must be our reaction to sin. John tells us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). This means we ask God for forgiveness (repent) and He will forgive us! We strive to not repeat our sin, though we often fail. When that happens, we repent again. This is part of what it means to have relationship with God, to repent when we fail to live up to what He has attained on our behalf and then to get up again and get about our Father’s business. 

It is vital that we understand the seriousness and gravity of sin. It is pervasive and powerful. We must resist any temptation to ignore or minimize it within our own lives. But we must also understand that we do not face our temptations alone. Jesus overcame sin at the cross, and His victory is ours. Let us then, as the Bible says, live up to what we have already attained. God is more powerful than sin, and we are redeemed by His Son. Therefore, let us not cheapen our redemption by nodding flirtatiously at sin with a wink and a smile. 

About the Author 

Bart Bentley was born and raised in Tujunga, California. He now pastors at Journey Church Ministries, an Open Bible church in Loves Park, Illinois. He resides with his wife, Erin, and their three children: Genesis, Kessa, and Isaac.  

*Information regarding Christopher taken from “Death of an Innocent” by Jon Krakauer

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What They Couldn’t See on the Scan: A True Story of an Impossible Healing

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By Valerie Warren, as told to Hannah Bemis

They told me I was going to die.
Not in a vague, someday-everyone-does kind of way. A doctor looked me in the eyes and said, “You did not hear me. You’re going to die.” I was supposed to have eleven months to live. That was in 2022. Today, I am still here and more certain than ever that miracles are real.

It all started in July of that year. I was working on our property when it hit me that I’d been feeling extra tired, more tired than I’d ever been. I told my husband, “Something is off; when we go back to town, I really think I need to go to the doctor.”

At my doctor’s appointment they did some bloodwork, telling me they’d give me a call if they saw anything alarming. It was all very casual until they called me while I was still driving home, telling me I needed to come to the emergency room immediately.

Valerie and husband Tony (center), and kids Heath, Lorissa, Hope, and Victoria (left to right)

Valerie and husband Tony (center), and kids Heath, Lorissa, Hope, and Victoria (left to right)

In simple terms, my liver was “jammed up” and nothing could move. I was hospitalized while they put a stent in my biliary duct to open things up. It was during that procedure that the doctor saw a spot on my pancreas. On July 22, I was told I had pancreatic cancer. The “spot” turned out to be a tumor at the head of my pancreas, big enough that it was pinching off that whole area and blocking anything from flowing through.

“You did not hear me.
You’re going to die.”

As bad as that sounds, I was told it was only stage one and that with chemotherapy and Whipple surgery, I would very likely survive. While in the hospital, I had developed pancreatitis, so before releasing me to go home, they did some additional scans to confirm the infection was gone. It was on one of those scans that they noticed a spot on my liver. By the next week that spot had grown, and there were additional spots. On September 7, my original diagnosis of stage one pancreatic cancer was abruptly changed to a stage four diagnosis.

I was with my husband and my best friend when the doctor gave us the grim news. “You have stage four pancreatic cancer, and there is no cure. All we can do is give you palliative chemotherapy. As of right now we’re giving you one month to three years, but the average survival is eleven months.”

The Bible Study prayer warriors from Church of the Cascades who stood by Valerie through her cancer journey.

My husband and best friend were, of course, crying, but I was sitting there dry-eyed, just processing. The doctor must have interpreted this as shock because she repeated herself in even starker terms: “You did not hear me. You’re going to die.”

Something shifted in me at that moment. All I can say is that I just knew I could trust God. Focusing on the doctor, I said, “I did hear you, but you cannot give me my end date. The only person who can tell me when I’m going die is my Lord.”

I continued my palliative treatments for the remainder of 2022 and into 2023. During that year the support of my faith community was incredible. Groups of ladies from the local Open Bible church, Church of the Cascades, dropped off gift baskets, came to visit to just sit with me or watch a movie, or stopped by to pray.

Their efforts really touched me. The remarkable thing is that my family didn’t even attend Church of the Cascades; we had attended in a previous season but had left for a time. Despite this, the people there were a constant support. It wasn’t long before my husband and I made the decision to return, knowing that this was truly our church home.

It was actually a Church of the Cascades ladies’ retreat that became the pivot point for my cancer story. On a Wednesday night in October 2023, I was praying in preparation for the retreat. I was praying all the things I usually did, “Lord, I trust you, and whatever you want to do with me, just use me.” Only this time, the Lord interrupted me:“Why aren’t you asking for a miracle?”

I didn’t have an answer. I had been saying over and over that I trusted Him, and I was quick to ask for a miracle for others, but I hadn’t articulated that request for myself. That night in bed I laid my hands on my belly, simply saying, “Lord, I’m asking right now for that miracle. Will you remove my cancer? Can I just live?”

The next day I was scheduled to have a CT scan before heading to the ladies’ retreat, but the appointment didn’t go as planned. The technicians were unable to access my veins, so they said we’d have to reschedule. As I climbed into the truck with my husband, I said, “Babe, this isn’t about a canceled CT. I really feel like the Lord is going to heal me this weekend at the retreat and that’s why this is canceled. He’s going to show me proof of His healing during my rescheduled scan after I get back.”

Valerie and her roommates from the pivotal ladies retreat in Oregon.

The retreat was amazing. The last night was saturated in prayer; everyone was praying for everyone. I was being held and prayed for by my friend Sheryl, and for the first time since my initial diagnosis, I cried and cried, finally saying out loud, “I don’t want to die!”

On the final morning of the retreat, a few friends and I decided to take one last picture on the beach. As we were standing by the water, a group of three ladies from another church who were attending the retreat came walking up. I had never met these women, but they wanted to tell me that during the prayer time the previous evening, they had seen light surrounding me.

“You were literally glowing,” they said. My friends responded by telling these women my story, after which all of them prayed for me again. I was in awe at how those women had described the sight of me glowing. Looking back, I often wonder, “Is that the moment, God? Is that the moment when you were healing me?”

My rescheduled scan happened the Wednesday after my return. The results were emailed to me through MyChart (an online medical chart) first. As I read the results, it seemed to me like there was no cancer found. I ran downstairs to where my daughter was and said, “Victoria, read this. What do you think it means?”

She read it and said, “It sounds like there’s nothing there!”

Valerie’s amazing medical team: nurse Melissa (middle), best friend Tammy (right), and Dr. Josh in the background.

“Right,” I said, “Don’t get too excited because I’m not a doctor and I could be missing something.” I called my husband and told him, “I think it’s gone!” He was driving and had to pull over because he was bawling. We were both crying, but I kept saying, “Let’s not get too excited. We’ve got to meet with the doctor tomorrow.”

Our appointment with the doctor the next day was strangely routine at first. “Yeah, your numbers look great. We’ll just keep doing what we’re doing,” he said.

I replied, “Wait. Hold on a sec. Can you go look at my latest scan because if I’m not mistaken, it looks like they’re not seeing anything anymore.” He pulled out my chart and after looking at it said, “Oh my gosh. You’re right…they’re saying there’s nothing there.”

You might wonder how the doctor didn’t notice this without my pointing it out, but don’t we often miss what we’re not looking for? Frankly, he was convinced I was going to die. When I talk to the doctors now, they tell me that they didn’t expect me to make it past six months. They would glance at my scans and see what they expected to see — “Yep, she’s still got it.” They didn’t see the scan saying the cancer had gone away because stage four pancreatic cancer doesn’t go away. Except this time, it did.

…stage four pancreatic cancer doesn’t go away. Except this time, it did.

After verifying that my scan hadn’t gotten mixed up with someone else’s, my medical team sent me to get a second opinion at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas. After the specialists there scanned me with their top-of-the-line equipment, they saw once again that, impossibly, I was clear. The cancer was all gone. That was in January of 2024.

Since that time, I’ve had scans every three months, and I am still cancer free. I wish I could record the conversations I have with the doctors each time. They can’t fathom it. “This is all new to me,” they’ll say, “I’m not sure where to go from here.”

No one expected me to live, and yet here I am. I’ve been able to share my testimony with hundreds of people through social media, through my business, and at a recent women’s event. The most precious thing to come out of all of this is that I got to lead both a friend and my mother-in-law to the Lord.

For those of you who are faced with an impossible situation or diagnosis, I just want to say, trust in the One who made you. Don’t focus on the thing; focus on the Lord. In Jesus we have hope, and God really can do the impossible. He will use your story, no matter what. Trust in the One who made you.


About the Author

Valerie Warren is a lifelong resident of Central Oregon and currently resides in beautiful Bend, where she is an active member of Church of the Cascades. She and her husband, Tony, have been married for nearly thirty-one years and together they have three daughters, a son-in-law, and a beloved grandson.

Valerie works part-time alongside her husband and runs her own business, which she sees as a platform to build meaningful relationships with women and share her faith in Jesus. Her greatest joy comes from spending quality time with her family and friends.

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Lo que no pudieron ver en el escáner: Una historia real de una sanación imposible

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Por Valerie Warren, según lo narrado a Hannah Bemis

Me dijeron que iba a morir.
No de una forma ambigua, al estilo de que «algún día todos morirán». Un médico me miró a los ojos y me dijo: «No me has oído. Te vas a morir». Se suponía que me quedaban once meses de vida. Eso fue en 2022. Hoy, sigo aquí y estoy más convencida que nunca de que los milagros son reales.

Todo comenzó en julio de ese año. Estaba trabajando en nuestra finca cuando me di cuenta de que me sentía muy cansada, más cansada que nunca. Le dije a mi marido: «Algo no está bien; creo que tengo que ir al médico cuando volvamos a la ciudad.».

En la consulta del médico me hicieron análisis de sangre y me dijeron que me llamarían si había algún resultado alarmante. Todo fue muy casual hasta que me llamaron mientras conducía de vuelta a casa para decirme que tenía que ir inmediatamente a un servicio de urgencias.

Valerie and husband Tony (center), and kids Heath, Lorissa, Hope, and Victoria (left to right)

Valerie y su esposo Tony (centro), y sus hijos Heath, Lorissa, Hope y Victoria (de izquierda a derecha)

En pocas palabras, mi hígado estaba «obstruido» y nada podía moverse. Me hospitalizaron para colocarme una endoprótesis en el conducto biliar y abrirlo. Durante la intervención, el médico observó una mancha en el páncreas. El 22 de julio me dijeron que tenía cáncer de páncreas. La «mancha» resultó ser un tumor en la cabeza del páncreas, lo bastante grande como para comprimir toda la zona e impedir que fluyera nada.


—No me has oído. Te vas a morir.

Por malo que suene, me dijeron que solo estaba en la fase uno y que, con quimioterapia y la operación de Whipple, era muy probable que sobreviviera. Durante mi estancia en el hospital desarrollé una pancreatitis, por lo que, antes de darme el alta para irme a casa, me hicieron otros escáneres para confirmar que la infección había desaparecido. En uno de esos escáneres detectaron una mancha en el hígado. A la semana siguiente, la mancha había crecido y aparecieron otras nuevas. El 7 de septiembre, mi diagnóstico original de cáncer de páncreas en fase uno cambió bruscamente a cáncer de páncreas en fase cuatro.

Estaba con mi esposo y con mi mejor amiga cuando el médico nos dio la terrible noticia. «Tienes un cáncer de páncreas en fase cuatro y no tiene cura. Lo único que podemos hacer es administrarte quimioterapia paliativa». Ahora mismo te damos de uno mes a tres años de vida, pero la expectativa de supervivencia media es de once meses».

Por supuesto, mi esposo y mi mejor amiga estaban llorando, pero yo estaba allí sentada con los ojos secos, simplemente procesando. La doctora debió interpretarlo como un estado de shock, porque me lo repitió en términos aún más crudos: «No me has oído. Te vas a morir».

Los guerreros de oración del estudio bíblico de la Iglesia de las Cascadas que apoyaron a Valerie durante su lucha contra el cáncer.

Algo cambió en mí en ese momento. Solo puedo decir que supe que podía confiar en Dios. Dirigiéndome al médico, le dije: «Le he oído, pero usted no puede darme mi fecha final. La única persona que puede decirme cuándo voy a morir es mi Señor».

Continué con mis tratamientos paliativos hasta finales de 2023. Durante ese año, la ayuda de mi comunidad de fe fue increíble. Grupos de mujeres de la iglesia local, la Biblia Abierta, la iglesia de las Cascadas, me traían cestas de regalo, venían a visitarme para simplemente sentarse conmigo o ver una película, o venían a orar.

Sus esfuerzos me conmovieron de verdad. Lo notable es que mi familia ni siquiera asistía a la Iglesia de las Cascadas; habíamos ido una temporada antes, pero la habíamos dejado por un tiempo. A pesar de ello, la gente de allí fue un apoyo constante. No pasó mucho tiempo antes de que mi marido y yo tomáramos la decisión de volver, sabiendo que esta era realmente nuestra iglesia.

De hecho, el punto de inflexión en mi historia con el cáncer fue un retiro de mujeres de la Iglesia de las Cascadas. Un miércoles por la noche de octubre de 2023, estaba orando para prepararme para el retiro. Oraba lo de siempre: «Señor, confío en ti, haz conmigo lo que quieras, pero úsame». Solo que, esta vez el Señor me interrumpió:

No tenía una respuesta. Había estado repitiendo una y otra vez que confiaba en Él y me apresuraba a pedir un milagro para los demás, pero no había formulado esa petición para mí. Esa noche, en la cama, puse las manos sobre mi vientre y dije simplemente: «Señor, te pido ese milagro ahora mismo. ¿Querrás extirparme el cáncer? ¿Puedo simplemente vivir?».

Al día siguiente tenía programada una tomografía computarizada antes de ir al retiro de damas, pero la cita no salió como estaba previsto. Los técnicos no pudieron acceder a mis venas, así que me dijeron que tendríamos que cambiar la cita. Mientras subía a la camioneta con mi marido, le dije: «Cariño, no se trata de una tomografía cancelada. Realmente siento que el Señor me va a sanar este fin de semana en el retiro y por eso se ha cancelado la cita». Él me mostrará pruebas de su sanación durante la tomografía reprogramada después de mi regreso».

Valerie y sus compañeras de habitación del importante retiro de mujeres en Oregón.

El retiro fue increíble. La última noche estuvo saturada de oración; todos oraban por todos. Mi amiga Sheryl me abrazaba y oraba por mí, y por primera vez desde mi diagnóstico inicial, lloré y lloré, y finalmente dije en voz alta: «¡No quiero morir!».

La última mañana del retiro, algunas amigas y yo decidimos tomarnos una última foto en la playa. Mientras estábamos junto al agua, se acercó un grupo de tres mujeres de otra iglesia que también asistía al retiro. No las conocía, pero querían decirme que, durante el tiempo de oración de la tarde anterior, habían visto una luz que me rodeaba.

«Estabas literalmente resplandeciente», me dijeron. Mis amigas respondieron contándoles mi historia y, tras ello, todas ellas volvieron a orar por mí. Me quedé asombrada de cómo aquellas mujeres habían descrito mi resplandor. Mirando hacia atrás, a menudo me pregunto: «¿Fue ese el momento, Dios? ¿Es ese el momento en que me sanaste?».

El miércoles siguiente a mi regreso me hicieron la tomografía reprogramada. Primero me enviaron los resultados por correo electrónico a través de MyChart (un historial médico en línea). Cuando los leí, me pareció que no había cáncer. Bajé corriendo donde estaba mi hija y le dije: «Victoria, lee esto, ¿qué crees que significa?».

Ella lo leyó y dijo: «¡Parece que no hay nada!».

El increíble equipo médico de Valerie, la enfermera Melissa, la mejor amiga del medio, Tammy, a la derecha y el Dr. Josh en el fondo.

«De acuerdo», le dije, «no te emociones demasiado porque no soy médico y podría estar pasando algo por alto». Llamé a mi esposo y le dije: «¡Creo que se ha ido!». Iba conduciendo y tuvo que parar porque no podía parar de llorar. Los dos llorábamos, pero yo insistía: «No nos emocionemos demasiado. Mañana tenemos que ir al médico».

Al día siguiente, nuestra cita con el médico resultó ser, extrañamente, muy rutinaria. «Sí, tus cifras están muy bien. Seguiremos con lo que estamos haciendo», dijo.

Yo le contesté: «Espere un momento, ¿podría echarle un vistazo a mi último escáner? Porque, si no me equivoco, parece que ya no ven nada». Sacó mi historial y, después de mirarlo, dijo: «Dios mío. Tienes razón… dicen que ahí no hay nada».

Tal vez se pregunten cómo el médico no se dio cuenta de esto sin que se lo señalara, pero ¿acaso no pasamos por alto con frecuencia lo que no buscamos? La verdad es que estaba convencido de que me iba a morir. Ahora, cuando hablo con los médicos, me dicen que no esperaban que sobreviviera más de seis meses. Echaban un vistazo a mis escáneres y veían lo que esperaban ver: «Sí, todavía lo tiene». No veían el escáner que decía que el cáncer había desaparecido porque el cáncer de páncreas en fase cuatro no desaparece. Excepto esta vez sí lo hizo.

porque el cáncer de páncreas en fase cuatro no desaparece. Excepto esta vez sí lo hizo.

Tras comprobar que mi escáner no se había confundido con el de otra persona, mi equipo médico me envió a buscar una segunda opinión al MD Anderson Cancer Center de Texas. Tras escanearme con sus equipos de alta tecnología, los especialistas confirmaron que estaba limpia. El cáncer había desaparecido por completo. Eso fue en enero de 2024.

Desde entonces, me he sometido a exploraciones cada tres meses y sigo sin tener cáncer. Ojalá pudiera grabar las conversaciones que mantengo con los médicos. No pueden entenderlo. «Todo esto es nuevo para mí», me dicen, «no sé muy bien qué hacer a partir de ahora».

Nadie esperaba que sobreviviera y, sin embargo, aquí estoy. He sido capaz de compartir mi testimonio con cientos de personas a través de las redes sociales, de mi negocio y en un reciente evento de mujeres. Lo más valioso de todo esto es que pude guiar al Señor a una amiga y a mi suegra.

A quienes se enfrentan a una situación o diagnóstico imposible, solo quiero decirles que confíen en Aquel que los creó. No se centren en la situación, sino en el Señor. En Jesús tenemos esperanza, y Dios puede hacer lo imposible. Él utilizará su historia, pase lo que pase. Confíe en Aquel que le creó.


Sobre la autora

Valerie Warren ha vivido toda su vida en el centro de Oregón y actualmente reside en la hermosa ciudad de Bend, donde es miembro activo de la Iglesia de las Cascadas. Ella y su esposo, Tony, llevan casi treinta y un años casados y juntos tienen tres hijas, un yerno y un nieto al que adoran.

Valerie trabaja a media jornada con su marido y dirige su propio negocio, que considera una plataforma para establecer relaciones significativas con mujeres y dar testimonio de su fe en Jesús. Su mayor alegría es pasar tiempo de calidad con su familia y amigos.

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Burden Bearing in the Church: How We Can Do It Better 

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When my children were young, God asked me if I trusted Him with their testimonies. Having worked as a church counselor, I wish my immediate answer was “Of course, Lord!” But instead, my most honest answer was “No! I see what you do with people’s testimonies!” I knew that to have a testimony of God’s work in their lives, people had to first go through pain and turmoil. Allowing my children the pain necessary for a testimony was one of my biggest fears. It wasn’t until nearly fifteen years later that I was able to humbly change my answer.  

I can recount hundreds of stories of God’s faithfulness to bring beauty from ashes as He promises in Isaiah: “To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (61:3). That’s easily the most rewarding part of working for Jesus (whether in my role as counselor, disciple-maker, or friend). When someone has experienced healing from their trauma, restoration in a relationship, or forgiveness for themselves and others, I have taken a front row seat to the beauty of a testimony rising out of the ashes of life’s pain. These are the stories I keep tucked away in my heart for building hope when it seems all hope is lost. When life’s hardships make it easier to identify with Job’s despair than with Paul’s rejoicing, I need those stories of redemption to give me hope – to give others hope.  

We try throwing scripture at pain from a distance, bandaging gaping wounds with platitudes.

It was when I had to find some hope to offer my daughter as she faced a devastating mental health diagnosis that my theology and mental health practice had a head-on collision in my very own home. God lovingly asked me again, as He has throughout the years, if I trusted Him with my children’s testimonies. I would be lying if I said my answer didn’t require both deep digging and anguished prayer. My hope was only in Him; I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God didn’t bring her this disease or its pain. That was part of the fall of man and its effects on creation – an enemy scheme.​ ​God didn’t promise my daughter wouldn’t face pain, but He did promise that when life brought it, He would use it for her good. He will shine His light in her darkness, use her healing to repair the breaches in others’ lives – all for His glory. I can finally wholeheartedly say that I do trust God with her testimony.  

It is in these dark and scary places that the church often misses the mark​. ​We aren’t well-equipped to bear one another’s burdens. We subconsciously worry that the dark places in others might consume us too. We try throwing scripture at pain from a distance, bandaging gaping wounds with platitudes. Burdens can’t be carried from an emotional distance.  

Remember the places where the church has best served you in your brokenness. I think you will find that it was in relationship, when someone sat with you in your pain, either in silence or humbly asking questions rather than preaching or talking about their own unresolved pain. The only time Job’s comforters were doing a good job is when they sat silently in the ash heap with him. Sometimes being a silent witness in other’s suffering is the most sacred thing you can do. This simply cannot be done in the few minutes of an altar call or from an emotional distance. It’s not until we’ve proven we are driven by love and grace, without an agenda for behavioral change, that we will be trusted with the most imprisoning parts of a person’s story.

It’s not until we’ve proven we are driven by love and grace, without an agenda for behavioral change, that we will be trusted with the most imprisoning parts of a person’s story.

I’ll let you in on a secret: you don’t have to be the pastor or church counselor to help people walk in emotional and spiritual health​. ​Most of the counseling I’ve done has been discipleship – teaching people the ”how-to’s” of the Bible: how to forgive, how to not be anxious for anything, how to break the power of lust, how to guard your heart in very practical, boots-on-the-ground ways. And yet, if you don’t understand how to apply biblical principles to your own emotional health, you won’t be comfortable in the dark and scary places of others’ struggles. Matthew Henry’s commentary on Galatians 6 says it well: “The better we know our own hearts and ways, the less shall we despise others, and the more be disposed to help them under infirmities and afflictions.” If you aren’t sure how to help others in their pain, being a silent, praying witness is a great place to start. In that silent place, collect the promises of God from scripture. Get to know His character and His love for His people. When you yourself can trust God’s unfailing goodness, you will be able to pass it on to others. Isaiah and Ephesians are great places to start this treasure hunt.  

We need to become a people that know how to get our hands dirty and apply the mud of scripture to the eyes of each other’s hearts in a way that invites restoration. We need to know where to find the keys that set the prisoners free. As individuals and as church bodies, we can help others apply the “how to’s” of scripture. I LOVE when churches teach Financial Peace along with praying for financial breakthrough. I LOVE when churches have recovery programs that walk spiritual captives through steps of freedom. I LOVE when churches teach boundaries and healthy relationship skills. I LOVE when churches have connections with community health programs that treat the whole triune person: mind, spirit, and body. I don’t believe medication minimizes one’s faith; oftentimes, it gives a person the boost they need to come to the starting line of the race we’re all trying to run for the kingdom. It can be a necessary tool in applying scripture to their lives.  

We all know that hurt people hurt people, but what’s even more powerful is the mustard seed growth of watching healed people heal people. A person who has learned to apply the gospel of Jesus to their own dark and scary places is the person who is best able to shine His light for another. When it comes to the integration of mental health and spiritual health in the Church, that is the aspect which excites me more than anything. 


About the Author

Anne Beem

Anne Beem is a Eugene Bible College alumnus living outside of San Antonio, Texas, with her husband Chuck and their three daughters. She has spent much of her counseling career starting counseling ministries in churches and consulting with pastors in providing soul care to their church members. She is currently an adjunct psychology professor at George Fox University and provides counseling services to ministers and their family members. Anne’s favorite hobbies include friend collecting, traveling, and reading all of the books.  

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