You didn’t see it coming.
Or maybe you did.
Either way… it hit you!
Now you’re sitting in the aftermath asking the question nobody really knows how to answer:
Why did this happen?
Pain has a thousand entry points… but when it lands, it always feels personal. And no matter how many people say, “I understand,” they don’t. Not really. Sometimes their comfort feels hollow. Sometimes it even makes it worse.
As a pastor, I’ve sat across from a lot of wounded people. I’ve watched strong men cry. I’ve listened to faithful women question everything. And here’s what I’ve learned:
Quick answers don’t heal deep wounds.
Throwing out a Bible verse too fast can feel like spiritual duct tape. Advice given too soon can feel dismissive. When you’re deeply hurt, what you need isn’t a neat explanation. It’s space.
Here’s the hard truth:
When life knocks you flat on your back, jumping up too quickly isn’t strength… it’s denial.
If you trip and feel something tear, you don’t sprint it off. Ignoring the injury only makes it worse. Pain demands attention. It needs to be acknowledged, processed, and brought into the light.
Let me give you a picture.
Think of your life like a large airliner. Planes are built to fly. They run on tight schedules. Delays cost money. Cancellations frustrate people.
But if a mechanical issue shows up, that plane gets grounded.
They don’t say, “It’ll probably be fine.” They don’t just push through.
Because sending a damaged aircraft back into the sky would be catastrophic.
And yet that’s exactly what we try to do with our souls.
Life keeps demanding takeoff. Responsibilities. Ministry. Work. Family. Expectations. It never feels like a good time to cancel the flight. It never feels convenient to say, “I need to process this.”
Kim and I have learned this the hard way. There have been seasons where the pain was deep… betrayal, disappointment, exhaustion. And the temptation was to just keep flying. Keep preaching. Keep leading. Keep showing up.
But we’ve had to ground ourselves. Step away. Sit in counseling. Re-center on the Gospel. Not because we’re weak… but because we refuse to crash later.
You cannot heal what you refuse to feel.
And this is exactly what the local church is meant to be… not a performance platform, but a repair hangar. A place where broken wings are restored. A place where the Gospel isn’t rushed… it’s applied.
If you’re hurting right now, hear me:
In Part 2, I want to walk you through a few powerful truths that will help you process your pain through the lens of the Gospel, so you don’t just survive what happened… you actually heal.
Stay with me.
BEN DAILEY
benwdailey@awakenchurch.ac
972.261.1919
LEAD PASTOR

We exist to declare + demonstrate the gospel to everyone, everyday, everywhere.