Incredible Men,
I’m tired of talking about pain.
But pain is where I’ve been living for the last 30 days, so I’m going to talk about it one more time.
My MRI showed three bulging discs, evidence that I had broken my back sometime in the past, and bone fragments around my spinal canal. The pain has been unlike anything I have ever experienced.
Pain pills. Nerve pills. Anti-inflammatories. Creams. Injections. Even morphine in the emergency room.
Nothing touched it.
There were moments when my entire body would shake. I would sweat through my clothes. My temperature would rise. I couldn’t sit, stand, or sleep. There was no position that made it stop.
All I could do was lie there, pray, cry, and ask God to help me.
And He did.
But His help didn’t look like I thought it would.
I wanted relief.
God began showing me a way forward.
There is a difference.
A lot of men say they want help, but what they really want is relief. We want the pain to stop without having to confront what caused it.
We want our marriage to change without having the conversation. We want financial peace without changing how we spend. We want freedom from addiction without removing access to it. We want a stronger relationship with God without surrendering our schedule, our habits, or our secrets.
We want a different life without becoming a different man.
That isn’t help.
That’s relief.
And relief is not always the same thing as healing.
During my research, I came across a man teaching people with serious back problems to stop being completely controlled by their pain. He encouraged them to begin moving again—slowly, carefully, and intentionally.
Move toward the pain instead of spending your entire life running from it.
I watched the testimony of a man whose pain had become so severe that he told his wife and children he didn’t know if he could keep living.
I understood him.
There were moments when my pain became so consuming that I couldn’t imagine another night of it.
But that man started doing small movements. Nothing dramatic. No miracle exercise. No overnight transformation. Just one painful movement followed by another.
A little bit today.
A little more tomorrow.
Over time, he began getting his life back.
So, with appropriate guidance, I started moving too. I went into my garage and began doing the small exercises. My body shook. Tears ran down my face. Everything in me wanted to stop.
But I moved.
Not because it felt good.
Because I wanted to get well.
And surprisingly, I began finding some relief. Today, the pain is manageable. It isn’t gone, but I believe God is healing me day by day.
The thing I wanted to avoid became part of the way forward.
Read that again:
The thing I wanted to avoid became part of the way forward.
That may be true for you too.
Maybe it’s the conversation you keep avoiding. The apology you refuse to make. The truth you’re afraid to admit. The counselor you won’t call. The budget you don’t want to face. The habit you know you need to kill. The boundary you need to establish. The forgiveness you need to extend. The surrender God keeps asking from you.
You keep praying for God to remove the pain, but maybe God is showing you the next step through it.
I am not saying God caused your pain.
I am saying He refuses to waste it.
“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.” Psalm 56:8
Not one tear is wasted. Not one night is forgotten. Not one ounce of pain is meaningless when you place it in the hands of God.
James tells us that the testing of our faith produces perseverance—and when perseverance finishes its work, we become mature and complete.
Pain can produce something in you that comfort never will.
But you have to stop running from it.
Comfort tells you to stay in bed. Comfort tells you not to bring it up. Comfort tells you to numb it, hide it, blame someone else, or wait until you feel ready.
Help tells you to get up.
Help looks like something. It may mean starting something difficult, stopping something destructive, adding something disciplined, or removing something comfortable.
You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink.
You can show a man the door, but you cannot make him walk through it.
Eventually, help requires you to do something.
So here is my question for you:
What pain are you asking God to remove while refusing to do the thing He has already shown you?
Don’t give me the church answer.
Name it.
Then ask yourself: What would embracing this pain look like today?
Not next month.
Not when you feel stronger.
Today.
Maybe you need to:
- Make the call.
- Tell the truth.
- Ask for forgiveness.
- Schedule the appointment.
- Cut up the card.
- Delete the number.
- Open the Bible.
- Get on your knees.
- Take the first step.
It may hurt.
Do it anyway.
Because the goal isn’t simply to feel better.
The goal is to become whole.
Pain will either become your prison or your passage.
Let it do its work. Let it expose what comfort allowed you to ignore. Let it drive you into the presence of God. Let it produce perseverance. Let it shape you into the man God has called you to become.
There is another side to this. But you will not reach it by running away.
Embrace the pain.
Take the step.
Become the man God has created you to be.
With you in the fight,
Pastor D
Check out more resources at www.incredibleman.org
You’re receiving this email because you matter to God — and you matter to me. Whether we’ve met or not, I’m for you, I believe in you, and I’m praying that you step fully into who God created you to be. I consider you an Incredible Man — not because you’re perfect, but because you’re called. Called to live with conviction, lead with integrity, and stand firm when life gets hard. The word incredible comes from the Latin incredibilis, meaning “not believable.” It describes a man who lives differently — set apart, grounded, and unwavering.
I’m grateful you’re here.
