Just Be Honest

Just Be Honest: How to Worship through Tears and Pray without Pretending, Clint Watkins (Good Book Company, 2024)

When suffering or deep pain strikes, how do you respond? Or, more to the point, how do you think you should respond as a Christian?

For many, we suspect we are supposed to push on, finding ways to rejoice and be thankful. We think we’re meant to declare God’s goodness and sovereignty, but in this awful situation we can’t see how God is good or could allow this to happen. We feel we should pray polite prayers for God to help us, yet our hearts are crying out, “Why me, God?” We gather with God’s people and sing triumphant choruses, but our souls are aching, wondering why there are no words to express the pain of this dark valley. Church can be a hard place to be, for “spiritual positivity dominates the landscape” and people “wrap up their stories of suffering with lessons and silver linings” (17).

Grief. Loss. Pain. Heartache. Despair. Are we allowed to express such emotions? In Just Be Honest, Clint Watkins asked these same questions amid the searing pain of losing his infant son, Eli:

I’ve never had such intense conflict with the Lord in that season. I still believed he was sovereign and good. But his good promises felt hollow and his sovereign plan seemed harsh … how could I find refuge in the one who had the power to heal my son, but chose not to? It was not well with my soul. (16)

He invites us to rediscover the language and practice of lament, which “was how sufferers in the Bible struggled in their tension between their pain and God’s promises” (18). Scripture is full of people who struggle with depression, despair and doubt, and bring their questions and uncertainties to the Lord. Think of Hannah praying bitterly over her infertility (1 Sam 1:10), Mary accusing Jesus of not saving Lazarus (Jn 11:32), or Paul’s unceasing anguish for others (Rom 9:2). Lamentations is the corporate grief of a nation in exile. Many Psalms detail the pain of their authors and their complaints to God (Psalm 13:1; 55:2; 142:2).

Jesus Knows Pain

Even more than the model of the saints in Scripture, we have the model of Jesus.

Jesus wept at Lazarus’ death. Watkins highlights that Jesus’ tears were unnecessary; he knew he was about to raise Lazarus from the dead. He didn’t need to grieve, but he slowed down and felt the pain of loss for himself and others.

Jesus wrestled with God before his own death with loud cries and tears (Heb 5:8) and was greatly distressed and troubled (Mk 14:33). On the cross, he cried out asking why God had forsaken him (Mk 15:34).

We are also allowed to question, weep, and mourn. But we don’t just respond like Jesus, we also respond alongside Jesus. He is with us:

And God will wait for you patiently, listen to you tearfully, and sustain you graciously, even as your prayers to him end in exclamation points and question marks. (48)

Learn to Lament

Watkins explores biblical lament and uses it to develop a framework of lament with four elements: 1) explained pain; 2) expressed protest; 3) earnest petition; and 4) eventual praise.

While we petition the Lord and we regularly praise him, explaining our pain to God and expressing our protest at him are often missing in our Western Christian climate. I wonder if we know that the Psalmists do it, but deep down we wonder—are we really allowed to do the same? It just seems risky. Therefore, Watkins’ exploration of the difference between grumbling and lament is very helpful. Lament is telling our troubles to God, whereas grumbling has three opposing characteristics. Firstly, you aren’t talking to God, only to others or yourself. Secondly, grumblers never get past the complaints, but lamenters fight to move beyond pain and protest to petition and praise. Finally, grumblers tend to walk away from the Lord, yet lamenters still seek him amidst their pain and confusion.

When we get this wrong and our lament turns to grumbling, we have the wonderful comfort of the Lord’s grace and mercy. He forgives our errors and continues to walk alongside us:

Suffering may cause you to entertain dark questions about the Lord. You might even say foolish things that you will one day regret and repent of. But God’s compassion does not depend on your ability to struggle perfectly … and if you cross the line, remember the cross. God covers your groans in grace. (80)

Walking Alongside Others

Watkins urges honesty with each other about our struggles and suggests adding lament into our corporate worship. This includes the songs we sing, but also how we preach about challenges and lead prayers and services. Let’s speak in ways that give permission to voice pain, confusion, and questions, and still lead people to Jesus as the source of all comfort.

He encourages allowing others to lament with us. We try to share honestly, wisely (perhaps with only a few in depth), and with hope. For those who walk alongside people in deep pain, we bear their burdens. Allow people to explain their pain and express their protest at God. Be okay with the theological tension. Let them sit in the confusion and uncertainty of what God is doing. Ask them how we can petition God for them. Help them walk towards praise.


Some books about pain and suffering are meant to prepare readers for future suffering, rather than intended for those who are in the midst of pain. However, I would offer Just Be Honest to someone in the middle of their own anguish. One possible limitation is how entwined the content is with Watkins’ own story. It fleshes out his content with personal experience, but it is only his own experience that is explored. The inclusion of other stories of different pain and loss may have helped readers find application in different circumstances. It may also be that Watkins’ r

aw and open emotion may be too confronting for those who are unable or unwilling to express pain or emotion. However, it could also be the catalyst that enables honest processing with God and others.

Watkins’ compassionate tone, biblical foundation, and clear understanding of pain and lament will help many to express their pain and protest and petition to the Lord, and God-willing, lead them to eventual praise.

This review was first published on TGCA.
I was given a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. 

Valuable

Valuable, Liz Carter (The Good Book Company, 2023)

“God can use you.” 

“God will use this for his good purpose.” 

“You have great gifts—use them for God.” 

“Jesus—use me for your kingdom.”

This language echoes across our churches. We all want to feel useful, and using our productivity to serve God feels right. I mean—isn’t it biblical? We’re all part of the body, contributing in our own unique way (1 Cor 12:12-26). God can use us weak jars of clay for his purpose (Rom 9:21, 2 Cor 4:7, 2 Tim 2:21).

But what about when we feel useless? When illness prevents any service in church? When vulnerable health means staying at home is the only option? When exhaustion overwhelms and getting out of bed is all that can be accomplished in a day? When our history leaves us struggling with triggers that could floor us at any moment?

Are we still useful? Can God still use us?

When we esteem and magnify the ideas of use and usefulness, we can move into dangerous territory. In Valuable, author Liz Carter, who suffers from chronic illness, proposes throwing out the language of “use” entirely, and instead considering “value”.

The Productivity Lie

Almost the first question we ask someone new is, “What do you do?” Even creative ways around this (“What fills your week?”, “What keeps you busy?”) suggest we need to be doing something to be worthwhile. There’s an ongoing internal question: “Do I measure up?”

How do we respond when we cannot be productive by the world’s (or even our church’s) standards? We come to Jesus and see again that he doesn’t want us for our usefulness. He wants us because he loves us. He cares for the weak, the vulnerable, the downtrodden. He turns lives upside down. This phrase is the theme of the book: God calls us into “the Upside Down”, where we have value and dignity because of who he made us to be—not because of what we do.

Carter is not speaking a new message here. This is the truth of the gospel, that he made us with dignity, and he loves us so much that he sent his Son for us. There isn’t as much on our deep need for a saviour, for sin is not the emphasis of this book, but more how those who suffer are still loved, valued, and honoured by the Lord.

Further, sharing our vulnerabilities openly with others combats the lies we’re tempted to believe: “I’d be more useful if I were whole / healed / better”. When we take off the “everything’s fine” mask, we find amongst God’s people “a place where we can safely bare our souls and bear one another’s burdens” (72). Our wholeness (in Jesus) can bloom in our brokenness:

What if instead of looking for usefulness in wholeness, we find a new and more dynamic power in God’s weakness-powered wholeness? (79)

God is Not a User

Imagine the meaning of “use” to those who have been used. This point struck me—for when we talk of one person using another, it is not positive. This language can imply manipulation, exploitation, control. But this isn’t how we should view God.

Carter considers the verses that refer to God’s people as vessels or pots. Rather than us being items of use for God, these verses show the great power of the gospel in our frailty (2 Cor 4:7); God’s sovereignty over his creation (Rom 9:21); and his call to holiness and service (2 Tim 2:21).

Let’s not fall into the trap of thinking that the desire of God’s heart is to get his children to do things for him. God’s heart is for intimacy and transformation. (58)

God Gives Hope In Our Pain

For those who suffer, another insidious message can be heard—that God is using you in your pain. if I can be useful in my weakness, I shouldn’t feel bad about it, and (more devastatingly) God must be content to see me suffer.

Carter suffers from a chronic lung condition that leaves her bed-ridden or hospitalised for days or weeks at a time. Talking about this kind of thinking, she says:

It reduced my agony to a tool and my suffering to a means to an end. It turned my sadness and disappointment into self-indulgent emotions that would not matter because I was being useful. (90)

Romans 5:2-5 gives us a different framework—that God is with us, he is helping us persevere, drawing us closer to God to make us more like him, and leading us to hope.

Maybe, instead, if we think of God at the centre of the brokenness, joining in with our pain and working in and through it to build up our hope, we can live a much more glorious story. (100)

Besides her own, Carter includes stories of others whose illness, mental health, trauma, grief or other circumstances have redefined what their usefulness for God looks like. Much of the personal application will be found by those who use the reflection questions, or the study guide at the end. Her eloquent, poetic writing style evocatively draws the reader into a deeper experience of God’s love.

For those who have been impacted by the unhelpful language of use, this book could be a balm to the soul, and enable us to shift our gaze back to the Lord who loves us, delights in us, and walks alongside us through the challenges of life. For others, it may be a necessary reminder to check our language and how it impacts others. But this message is for everyone, for while we all want to be useful and feel useless at times; what we really need is a broader, truer message of grace found in Christ’s love that goes far beyond use and leads to his glory. You are valuable because “you’re a loved child of your heavenly Father” (105).

This review first appeared on TGCA.

I was given a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. 

Being There

Being There: How to Love Those Who Are Hurting, Dave Furman (Crossway, 2016)

Are you walking alongside people who are suffering? Perhaps your friend has cancer, your spouse has a disability, your sister struggles with infertility, your work friend has recently lost their parents, or you have a pastoral care role in your church. How do you care for people well and wisely, bringing the aroma of Christ with you?

“The goal of this entire book is to point you to Jesus, who is your only hope, and to walk you through some ways you can love those who hurt with the strength God provides.“ (p. 19)

Dave Furman is a pastor, married with four children, and has lived with intensive nerve pain in his arms for over ten years. He cannot do many things, like hold his children or help with wife with practical tasks, and needs assistance with tasks like putting on his shoes.

“I am writing out of my experience of being helped in incredible ways by others in my disability… This is not another book about suffering for the one who suffers. It’s a book for everyone who knows people who suffer from pain and loss and wants to see the Rock of Ages underneath their feet. I think it’s safe to say that this is a book for all of us.” (p. 18)

The first two chapters give an anchor point. Firstly, he allows the carer to grieve their loss in another’s pain. We can grieve the circumstance, and weep at what we might give up to serve another, yet still have hope that sustains us through it all.

Secondly, Furman encourages the carer to invest in their own relationship with God. Only if we are anchored in Christ and his certain hope can we keep helping, but if we are not walking with God, we will have no strength to help. “Your strength to care for the hurting comes directly from Christ.” (p. 38)

The remainder of the chapters explore practical ways to help those who hurt. These include:

• Being a faithful friend. This includes being silent when needed, sticking around for the long term, being honest about your own life and challenges, forgiving their failings when they are rude, and finding things to laugh about as appropriate. 

• Speaking language of hope. This book is aimed at Christians and he gives some excellent practical examples about how to do this, but he does also address how to speak to unbelievers. 

• Serving like Jesus. Being willing to do the menial tasks, being careful with our words, and analysing our hearts to see if we are serving to be noticed and thanked. 

• Praying for the sufferer, including prayer for healing, and encouraging the sufferer to persist in prayer as well. 

• Being able to have hard conversations, for “when you are caring for the hurting, it is inevitable that their circumstances will bring out their sin”. He encourages us to lovingly and carefully rebuke and bring them to Christ. 

• A list of things not to do. There are similarities here with Nancy Guthrie’s What Grieving People Wish You Knew...  These include don’t be the fix it person, don’t compare, don’t make it their identity, don’t be hyper spiritual and don’t pledge general non-specific help. 

• The church’s role in graciously pursuing and caring for the hurting. 

I really appreciated his honest conclusion:

"I hope you’re not disappointed after reading this book to discover that I don’t have the perfect equation for loving the hurting. There’s no recipe you can follow that will give you the finished product in the precise way you’d like. This side of heaven there will be pain and sorrow, and we will at times be helpful and at other times we will be hurtful. Only Jesus perfectly loves the hurting." (pp. 144-145).

This is a wise and honest guide about the challenge of being a helper, with the encouragement to find your strength in Jesus, who leads us in the way of service.