It is not pain that should be feared but numbness.

When I had a melanoma removed in 2007, the doctor handed me a prescription for opioids—right in the thick of what we now know as the Sackler-fueled plandemic. I took one pill. The next morning, I handed the rest to my wife and said, “This stuff isn’t good.” Through that one dose, I could feel its addictive pull toward numbness.

Addiction thrives in a culture that idolizes comfort. Whether it’s opioids, alcohol, pornography, screens, or even overwork, the root is often the same: pain avoidance. We’ve mistaken pain for the enemy, and in doing so, we’ve lost one of God’s most merciful signals.

Pain is a messenger. It tells us something is not right. Physically, emotionally, spiritually—it alerts us that change is needed. Pain alerts. Pain teaches. Pain corrects.

Eugene Peterson observed that our default responses to pain are either denial or distraction. We say “It’s no big deal” or “get over it.” But Scripture offers another way: lament. Honest, raw, God-directed lament.

Instead of numbing, Christ invites us to claim the ache:

• That childhood wound still stings.
• That cutting word from your spouse has left a scar.
• That betrayal left you abandoned .
• That dream, now dead, makes you question God.
• That grief, so deep, has exhausted your tears.

Let the wave of lament roll through. Only then can the comfort of Christ meet you in full. Only then does the Balm of Gilead touch the soul.

“I’m hurt and in pain; Give me space for healing, and mountain air to breathe.”
—Psalm 69:29 (MSG)