When Honesty Feels Unsafe

I lie frequently, and it feels like I have no choice.

The truth is, I’m not okay. I’m not well. However, it’s often easier to pretend that I am.

When asked this very simple question, "How are you", I often respond by saying that I’m okay or I’m holding on. If the conversation is in person, I add a smile to complete the illusion, even though my body is aching or my head is spinning. To my fellow Christians, I often feel the need to add that I’m trusting God to see me through this.

Don’t get me wrong. I do trust Him, and I do believe I will be healed. But presently, I’m not well. I think this is where the tension lies.

I know I’m not the only pretender. Many people give responses they think others want to hear instead of responses that are true, not because they want to be dishonest, but because honesty sometimes comes with consequences.

Over time, we get silenced into sharing less than what we truly feel. Sometimes, what causes us to hold back shows up as quick advice, as spiritual correction, or as familiar phrases such as“there’s a bush for that", “just pray about it", or “don’t claim that over your life".

I understand that these words of advice come from a good place. I also know that culture and learned behavior has it's role to play. However, the impact can be the same: we learn that telling the truth invites commentary we don’t have the mental capacity to handle in that moment.

So we soften our words. We choose what sounds faith-based over what is honest. We also adjust our behavior.

And sometimes, all a person really wants then, is the freedom to share without regretting it afterwards. They want to say how they are actually doing and be met with presence and listening, not remedies and fixing.

Faith doesn’t require pretending. Trusting God does not mean denying the present moment. Believing in healing does not cancel the reality of pain. Hope does not demand that we erase what we are currently living through.

I believe that you can trust God and still say that you're in pain. You can believe in healing and still admit that, at the moment, you are not okay. That isn’t weak faith. It’s honest faith. The kind that doesn’t perform strength or rush the process. The kind that brings the unfiltered self into God’s presence and says, "This is where I actually am".

I’m still learning how to be honest. Even now, I’m still learning how to respond without defaulting to what feels safest.

Maybe pretending isn’t about being fake at all. Maybe it’s about protecting what little energy we have left. Maybe it’s about survival.

I trust Him and I am not well. Both can exist at the same time.