How Praise Amid Pain Can Bring Healing

Amber Ginter

iBelieve Contributing Writer
Updated Nov 15, 2023
How Praise Amid Pain Can Bring Healing

I praised Him because amid the storm, no matter how hard or how much it hurt, it's what I should've been doing all along.

It was unusually warm and windy for a Friday in November. Perhaps it was the Cincinnatti winds. Perhaps it was the Spirit gently stirring my soul for the coming evening. 

Ben and I had taken my mom out for the weekend. A long and overdue birthday present we'd promised her months ago. But the time was here. The moment was now. 

After a day at The Underground Railroad Museum and a rushed door-dash visit to Chick-fil-A, we couldn't wait to see Brandon Lake in concert. I desired nothing more than to sit and soak up the presence through worship songs I love. You can imagine our disappointment when the venue sold more tickets than seats and we were left to stand the entire night. "Good thing I'm a teacher," I thought. I never get tired of standing. 

But as the night grew on and two hours turned into three, it wasn't my feet that grew weary, but my heart. My emotions. My mind. My mental health struggles. My pain. 

Lyric-like Prayers

In a matter of lyric-like prayers, I was exposed. Hands lifted high and confession lifted higher, I talked to God through the songs I sang, raw and broken prayers at my fingertips. Because this was genuine. Nothing held back. The wind moving hearts and chilling bones. 

"Oh, Eden's tree. The choice within their hands. As the serpent whispered from beneath. Where Your grace exceeds. The sum of all our lack. For I am Adam, I am Eve. Isn't it just like You? To turn it all around for good. Like only You could. Like only You would. You turn it all around for good. And when You do. You do it so it's done for good. Like only You could. Like only You would." – "Eden (Isn't It Just Like You?)" by Benjamin William Hastings feat. Brandon Lake

Isn't that true? 

I am Adam.

I am Eve.

But despite my continual sins, flaws, mess-ups, breakdowns, and crises, God turns it around for good. And not just good, but a good that's forever, eternal, paid in full

Our Debt Is Paid

In the Book of Hebrews, assumed to be written by the Apostle Paul, we read about the necessary sacrifices and offerings needed to cleanse us from sin in the Old Testament. Without the shedding of blood from an innocent animal and countless gifts presented at an altar, guilt stained us. That's why Jesus had to come. That's why the beauty of Hebrews 10:14 washes my red into white as pure as snow: "For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy" (NLT). 

Jesus wasn't like every other human priest coming to the Temple to make sacrifices on behalf of Himself and His peers. He was the eternal priest, fully God, and man, coming to take away the sins from the entire world. He who knew no sin, became sin so that we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). 

While I've heard this story and Scripture dozens of times, I'm not really sure it sunk in. What power hides behind the veil that Hebrews 10:1-6 paints:

"The law is only a shadow of the good things that are coming--not the realities themselves. For this reason, it can never, by the same sacrifices repeated endlessly year after year, make perfect those who draw near to worship. If it could, would they not have stopped being offered? For the worshipers would have been cleansed once and for all, and would no longer have felt guilty for their sins. But those sacrifices are an annual reminder of sins because it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. Therefore, when Christ came into the world, he said: "Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me; with burnt offerings and sin offerings you were not pleased" (NIV). 

Jesus came to shake foundations. To lay down His life for sinners. Even if they never chose to know or follow Him. He gave His body, and all we could give Him was our pathetic and sinful selves.

We Are Clothed for Eternity

Still not convinced? Brandon Lake writes it this way:

"I am clothed in a coat of many colors. I am wrapped in the light. I am held in the arms of a loving Father. Was lying in a pit but I'm walkin' the palace now. 'Cause once I was a beggar, now I live in the King's house. Because: Red was the blood that saved me. White was the light that pulled me from the dark. Gold was the crown You placed upon my head, that showed me who You are. With mercy and grace, I've been embraced, like no other. I gave You my heart, You gave me a coat of many colors". – "Coat of Many Colors"

We are clothed for eternity. Circumstances present and past cannot take that proclamation away from us. 

That night at the concert, I started to see behind the veil. Behind the broken house I grew up in and the paternal relationships I sought but never had. Behind the emotions weighing me down and the diagnoses threatening to drag me deeper. 

Deepen the Well in Praise

As the well within me grew, I praised. Not because my circumstances or pain had suddenly changed, but because I was tired of letting the enemy win. Tired of letting the enemy steal from me what Christ already paid for. I praised because when I did, the lyrics I sang became true. An anthem. A bold declaration. Authority. Promises God promised to keep and will. I praised Him because amid the storm, no matter how hard or how much it hurt, it's what I should've been doing all along. 

After the concert, a close friend told me that most Christians are too quick to gloss over the hardship of healing. I think she's right. I've been stuck in navigating and feeling my pain, trying to grapple and understand for five years. I'm not sure I understand much, if anymore now. But what I know is that the hardship of healing deserves to be shared with God and others—with God, because He knows all about my pain and suffering and desires to hear from me. And with others, because there are too many people pretending to be okay when they aren't. 

The world needs real voices willing to validate and discuss the pain and suffering when healing doesn't come and to share how to praise despite those things. Not because we have all the answers but because praising amid the unknown and hardships breeds deeper faith and companionship than we knew possible. With others. And with our Creator. 

There's Hope Now and on the Other Side

"O tree of life. There's hope in every branch. And the serpent's nowhere to be seen. Where your grace completes. The sum of all our lack. For I am Adam, I am Eve. And Eden's my eternity." – "Eden (Isn't It Just Like You?)" by Benjamin William Hastings feat. Brandon Lake

There's hope on the other side, friend. 

Hope is praising in the pain. 

Hope is within the deep void cracking inside your very soul. 

Hope is our eternity, even when hope fails to be felt or seen here on earth. 

Someday soon, hope eternal will reign. It's our forever home, in a place where circumstances will cease. 

Agape, Amber

Photo Credit: ©Guillaume de Germain/Unsplash

amber ginter headshotAmber Ginter is a teacher-turned-author who loves Jesus, her husband Ben, and granola. Growing up Amber looked for faith and mental health resources and found none. Today, she offers hope for young Christians struggling with mental illness that goes beyond simply reading your Bible and praying more. Because you can love Jesus and still suffer from anxiety. You can download her top faith and mental health resources for free to help navigate books, podcasts, videos, and influencers from a faith lens perspective. Visit her website at