Josh Hatcher is the Communications Director at Open Arms Community Church. He is married to Pastor Zoe Hatcher, and leads the Tribe of Lions Microchurch for men. He also is the founder of Manlihood.com
There’s a moment in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indiana stands at the edge of what looks like a bottomless abyss. On the other side is the path forward. Between him and it? Nothing but open air.
He has the instructions. He has the map. But he still can’t see a bridge.
Everything in him hesitates. His instincts tell him to turn back. His eyes tell him it’s impossible. But he remembers the words: Only the penitent man shall pass.
So he closes his eyes. He steps forward. And his foot lands on solid ground.
What looked like nothing was actually a hidden bridge.
Sometimes following God feels like that.
You’ve decided to return. You’ve turned your heart back toward Him. And now you’re standing at the edge of something unfamiliar, unsure where the next step will land.
You don’t feel lost. But you don’t feel certain either.
And that space — right there — is where many of us find ourselves in Lent.
When Returning Doesn’t Bring Instant Clarity
Here we are.
Returning to God doesn’t always bring instant clarity. Sometimes we say, “Here is my heart God, I’m ready to do whatever you want me to do!” and then we’re left feeling, “Now what?”
There have been many times in my life, when I’ve let go of a toxic or harmful behavior or attitude that was between Jesus and me, and I was left sitting confused and unsure. Sometimes, I even went back to those behaviors, because they were familiar, and comfortable.
But God has more for us. He desires freedom, not bondage. And even though it may be unclear what is next, there is a promise from Him to lead us out of the mess we’re in.
God’s Leading Is an Invitation
God’s leading is an invitation. I think of Moses being invited to step up to a conversation with a burning bush. I think of Jesus, being led by the Spirit into the wilderness.
He invites us, and leads us into a deeper relationship with Him. And that leading is where we find the clarity we’re desperate for.
Proverbs 3:5–6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.
It’s not always logical. It’s not always safe. But that leading is purposeful.
The Wilderness Is Formation, Not Punishment
When we think of the 40 days of Lent, we’re reminded of Jesus spending 40 days in the wilderness, fasting, and facing temptation.
It’s important to remember as we enter into this, that the wilderness we may go through isn’t punishment. It is formation.
God uses the spaces in between to form us into His likeness. Lent is us accepting an invitation into that space.
Just because you feel lost in this moment, doesn’t mean you are lost.
What We Laid Down Stays at the Cross
The shame of the sin we laid down, it has been nailed to the cross. It’s no longer our sin or our shame. We don’t have to return to it.
And as we press in, we will find it replaced by the love of the One who is calling us deeper.
This is the time to ask ourselves the hard questions.
Where might God be leading me right now?
What step of obedience is in front of me?
What am I being asked to trust without full clarity?
A Prayerful Posture
As you are reading this, I want you to place your hands in front of you, open as though someone is giving you a gift.
Sit in silence, and breathe in deep.
God, I ask that You would show me what You have for me. What’s next for me? I have turned from my sin, but I feel like I’m not sure where my feet are supposed to go. So direct me. I accept Your invitation. Take me by the hand and lead me wherever You choose. Let’s do this.
Led, Not Lost
What God has for you is an adventure more grand than any Indiana Jones movie. It’s miraculous, and bold, and full of moments where you’ll step over your own abyss, and He’ll make sure your feet are on solid ground.
He’ll continually call out the parts of you that need to be healed and need to be surrendered. He’s a good and perfect Dad. So He won’t let you down.
He will lead you, not leave you lost.
Walk With Us Through Lent
Lent is not meant to be rushed or walked alone. We invite you to slow down and create space for God with us during this season.
Join us for a Lenten Prayer Service on Wednesday evening, and for The Word for Lunch — a short, midday gathering for Scripture and prayer throughout the week.
These simple rhythms are designed to help you return to God, listen for His voice, and be renewed in His presence.
Josh Hatcher is the Communications Director at Open Arms Community Church. He is married to Pastor Zoe Hatcher, and leads the Tribe of Lions Microchurch for men. He also is the founder of Manlihood.com
It’s always the loudest and ugliest that get the most attention. That’s true in politics, online arguments — and it’s especially true when people talk about churches. The online space is filled with commentators who call out celebrity pastors and their $6,000 sneakers and private jets.
“Tax the churches!” they say. Or “Religion is just a business.” or “Churches are always asking for money!”
Believe me, I get the cynicism. A small number of celebrity pastors have abused their influence, and their scandals spread far and wide. But those headlines—shocking as they may be—don’t reflect what churches actually look like in places like Bradford.
What most people don’t see is that the average church in America is not a 5,000 seat media production powerhouse. The reality is much more humble: the median church is about sixty-five people in weekly attendance. A church that reaches 200 in attendance is in the top 10% of churches in America. That means the outlying massive megachurches with their television ministries that are asking you to send them “seed money” are a very small representation of what the church looks like.
A median salary for most pastors in the U.S. is around $45,000 to $55,000 a year—and many make far less, often working two jobs just to support their families. These aren’t CEOs of corporations. They’re community members who work long hours like everyone else, the same people who stand with you on your best days and in your hardest moments.
Most churches don’t have endowments or outside funding—quite the opposite. They survive almost entirely on the generosity of the people who attend and the community that believes their presence matters.
Lately I’ve welcomed a lot of young adults into the faith, and their questions remind me how much we take for granted. One asked me, “Where does the church get the money to do all this? Does the government help?” He couldn’t believe it when I told him the truth: most of what we do is funded entirely by the generosity of the people who sit in our chairs each week—people who give because they love God and love their neighbors, not because anyone twists their arm.
I’ve seen this firsthand at Open Arms Community Church here in Bradford. We’re not a megachurch, not a corporation — we’re a local congregation made up of ordinary people trying to make a difference in the place we all call home.
Living in McKean County is certainly a haven in comparison to other parts of the country where crime and crisis run rampant. We’re relatively safe if you compare the statistics to Philadelphia, for example. But we’ve seen some headlines this past year that have rocked us – so many stories of violence, child abuse, overdose deaths, and families falling apart under the weight of addiction and crisis. No child dreams of growing up to land in prison. No newlywed couple stands at the altar planning for alcoholism or domestic abuse. No teenager imagines their adult life beginning and ending with an overdose. People don’t choose these endings because they want them; they arrive there through layers of trauma, hopelessness, and despair that build slowly over time.
And that is precisely why the presence of a healthy church in a community matters. Churches aren’t just places for religious ritual; at their best, they are places where someone finds help before the crisis becomes the headline. They are spaces where people talk through their wounds instead of acting out of them. A church is where friendships provide accountability before someone makes the decision they can’t take back. It’s where a struggling parent learns skills that bring stability back into a chaotic home, and where an addict finds support through the long journey toward freedom — not judgment. It’s the quiet work of a volunteer talking a teenager out of a terrible decision at 10PM on a school night — work that never shows up on the front page but absolutely changes the outcome.
Much of what churches do is preventative work you’ll never see on the news. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t trend. It happens quietly, behind the scenes, in living rooms, over cups of coffee, in late-night phone calls, in hospital waiting rooms, and in the small, consistent moments where one life influences another. It is the kind of work that reduces despair long before despair becomes destructive. And it is the kind of work that no government program nor nonprofit model can fully replicate, because it depends on relationship, community, and the belief that every person — every single one — is worth fighting for.
People say the church only wants money. But what the church really wants is fewer funerals, fewer broken homes, fewer kids lost to despair, fewer headlines that break our hearts.
So yes, churches ask for support. But not because pastors are living the high life, and not because churches are sitting on piles of cash. Churches ask for support because the work of helping a community heal takes resources: buildings that stay open, staff who can give their time, meals that need to be purchased, programs that need materials, and a hundred other practical needs that make compassionate work possible. The church isn’t asking for money to prop up an institution. It’s asking for partnership to strengthen a community.
A better question to ask might be this: what would happen to a town like Bradford if the churches disappeared? What would happen to the families in crisis, the kids who need mentors, the elderly who are lonely, the people battling addiction, the ones on the edge of despair?
It’s not just the organization doing the work. It’s the people, and the church is the vehicle that allows them to get connected to relationships where people can help each other. Let’s ask the question: If you were in trouble at 11PM, who would you call for help? Many people don’t have someone. But if you’re in a good church, you are in a network of people who have your back.
The church isn’t perfect. No human institution is. But despite its imperfections, it remains one of the last places still committed to stepping into the darkest parts of people’s lives with hope, compassion, and the stubborn belief that redemption is possible. Not for money. Not for prestige. But because we love the place we live, and we refuse to give up on the people who call it home.
If our community is ever going to turn the tide on the despair captured in our headlines, we’re going to need strong families, safe kids, supportive friendships, open doors, listening ears, and the kind of hope that grows in relationship, not isolation. The church is one of the few institutions still fighting for all of that. And for that reason alone, it’s worth supporting.
December 2 is Giving Tuesday. I’m asking that even if you aren’t a part of a local church, that you consider giving to support one. You can give to any of the churches in our community and I know it will make a difference.
If you aren’t sure which church to choose, let me humbly recommend that you give to our Local Impact Fund at Open Arms Community Church. The vision at Open Arms is “Restored Lives in Christ” and “Transformed Community for God’s Glory”. We’re in the fight to make people’s lives better, to make our community better.
My wife listens to a podcast every morning by JD Walt called “The Wake-Up Call”. I have listened alongside her on occasion, and I had the privilege of briefly bumping shoulders with JD at the New Room Conference last year.
I decided to start listening for myself as I’m on a quest for a bit of a mental and spiritual reset. Too much scrolling on my phone has my dopamine levels all out of whack. The current climate on social media has turned toxic, and so my options are watching people I love argue with each other, or the “brain rot” content that occasionally makes you chuckle, but definitely doesn’t build your soul.
This morning’s episode resonated deeply with me, for a few reasons. I’ll start with the end of the podcast first. At the end of each episode JD sings a hymn. Today’s hymn was what he called “The Baptist Fight Song” and while growing up in an old fashioned Baptist Church, I’ve never heard that phrase, but before he said the title, I knew he meant “Just As I Am.”
I was driving while listening, and that song broke open my tear ducts. I’m sure I was all over the road this morning, wiping tears from my eyes as I was transported back to my childhood and teenage years, standing up at the end of sermon, listening to Mrs. Florence Sinsabaugh in her finest polyester dress, as she let the foot pedals on the organ swell, and both hands holding out the long chords, while Judy Youngblood accentuated with the piano. Pastor H.D. Youngblood would lead us in singing, waving his hand to keep the time, and between verses, he’d call us home. Rarely did anyone go up to the altar. But with every head bowed, and every eye closed, hands were raised to pledge commitment to Jesus.
We didn’t applaud much in the Baptist Church, but inside out hearts, we were cheering when Pastor would say, “I see that hand, Thank You Lord.”
We’d usually sing verses 1, 2, and 5, and there was usually an instrumental verse in there too.
1.
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bid’st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come! I come!
2.
Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot;
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
3.
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt;
Fightings within, and fears without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
4.
Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind;
Yes, all I need, in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
5.
Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
6.
Just as I am, Thy love unknown
Has broken every barrier down;
Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
And I was reminded of another very personal story, that has echoed deeply in my family lore. My maternal grandfather was a bad man. The best thing he had ever done was to abandon his family. That may sound like a bad thing, but the truth is, abandoning them was the best thing. I won’t get into telling the story that really belongs to my mother and her siblings. I’ll just say he was a bad man.
Abandoned, my grandmother turned to Jesus, and paved the way for her family. They met Jesus, many of them probably hearing Pastor Youngblood sing Just As I Am, and our family’s direction was changed.
At some point, my grandfather had stumbled into a church, probably drunk. He told the story, “If that preacher would have sang one more verse of Just As I Am, I’d have walked up to that altar.” – But of course he didn’t.
Years later, after leaving a lifetime of pain and struggle in his wake, my grandfather called my grandmother. “Deanie, I’m dying. I have cancer. Would you come out and see me?”
The story I remember is that he was found laying on the ground with a pile of cigarette butts on one side, and a pile of beer cans on the other. The cancer had eaten through most of him, and he was on his way out of this world.
My grandmother went out, and invited the rest of the family.
They didn’t go because they wanted to be with him. They went because they had a mission, to introduce Grandpa Dave to grace. To plead for his soul to be saved.
They preached the gospel, sang songs, and Uncle Mike started playing Just As I Am. When he got to the end of the song, the old man said, “Keep playing.” Grandpa Dave prayed, probably for the first time in his life. He asked for forgiveness for his sins. And in the remaining few days of his life, there was a change. Tiny fruits of the Spirit growing in the small window he had left.
Just as he was. Without a plea, except that Jesus’ blood was shed for him.
————–
The podcast episode was centered around this thought. A woman told JD in conversation, “I don’t want you to think I’m not a good person.”
JD’s response, “You’re not a good person. And I’m not a good person.”
This truth is one we need to grasp fully.
I see it echoed on the social media feed that I’m trying to ignore right now.
Virtue signalling.
Folks pointing fingers at the “evil” they see on the other side.
“Those folks are violating what the Bible clearly commands!”
“Those folks are bigots and hypocrites!”
With the inference that “I’m better.”
We post things on the internet, and say things in conversation because we want others to think we are good people.
“I’m a good person. I don’t condone sin.” “I’m a good person. I hate racism.” “I’m a good person. I love America.” “I’m a good person. I challenge broken systems!”
“I’m a good person. I want justice!” “I’m a good person. I stand with So and So!”
Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these might be good things, to stand up for the oppressed, to long for justice, to support your country, to stand for truth and righteousness.
But the thing is, none of us are good people.
That’s what’s so hard for people to accept. That’s what’s so scandalous about the gospel.
We don’t earn right standing with God by your good deeds.
We don’t deserve to be seen as heroes and martyrs and virtuous.
When Jesus delivered the sermon on the mount, and he said this:
“You have heard that our ancestors were told, ‘You must not murder. If you commit murder, you are subject to judgment. But I say, if you are even angry with someone,you are subject to judgment! If you call someone an idiot,[e] you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if you curse someone,[f] you are in danger of the fires of hell.” -Matthew 5
I’d encourage you to read that whole passage. If I paraphrase what he’s saying,, “You guys are missing the point. In order to earn God’s favor, you have to be better than the commands. The commands say ‘Don’t murder.’ But if you hate someone in your heart or call them an idiot, you’re just as bad. If you lust after a woman, it’s just as bad as having sex with her.”
He’s making a point and establishing his authority, and emphasizng that all of us are not good people.
Paul reiterates it:
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” – Romans 3:23
This is the beauty of it.
He paid the cost for us.
“He himself is the sacrifice that atones for our sins—and not only our sins but the sins of all the world.” – 1 John 2:2
We aren’t good people. We are all sinners, and all of us are short of God’s expectations. And even if we kept the commandments in practice, we’d break them in our hearts.
But thank God!
“But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.” –Romans 5:8
He meets us just as we are, and He makes up for what we lack, so that we can be right with him.
Sometimes, we who He has redeemed forget where we came from. We forget that we’re only right with God because of what Jesus did. We’re not good people. We’re His people. He paid for us. He bought us with His suffering on the cross.
Anything good in us is because God put it there. Even before we knew Him, the good in us was the reflection of His image in us, because He made us. And now that we have surrendered to Him, the good is not because of us. It’s because of Him.
Let us never forget that.
written by
Josh Hatcher
Josh Hatcher is the Communications Director at Open Arms Community Church. He is married to Pastor Zoe Hatcher, and leads the Tribe of Lions Microchurch for men. He also is the founder of Manlihood.com
Maybe you’ve been feeling it lately– that tug in your heart. You can’t quite explain it, but you know God is calling you deeper. Or maybe you’ve been away from Him for a long time, and something in you is saying, “It’s time to come home.”
I know that feeling. I’ve been there. And I want to tell you my story.
I Thought I Knew Him
I grew up in a Christian home. My parents had both walked away from destructive paths and found hope in Jesus.Before I was born, my dad had been an alcoholic and a violent man, but when he met Christ, he never drank again and became known for his kindness. My mom broke free from a similar cycle and chose a new life.
From the time I was in utero, I was in church. I loved church. Sweet and kind people. Warm and inviting organ music. Cookies with the cream in the middle and kool aid. Wooden toys and Jesus coloring pages. Songs and sermons that sweetly comforted me and snuck into my heart. We called all of the older people “Grandpa” and “Grandma” as though they were our own family.
I remember being very young, and lying to my mother. I think it may be the first time she recognized that her sweet little boy could sin. She told me how to pray to invite Jesus into my heart. I would like to think that I was sincere, but I’d find a deeper truth later.
I was baptized as a child shortly after that. I believed in God, I loved Jesus, but looking back, I realize I mostly went through the motions because I wanted to make my parents proud. It was meaningful in its own way, but my heart was still empty. I knew about Jesus — but I didn’t know Him.
The Breaking Point
By the time I was in eighth grade, the loneliness and brokenness had piled up. I was bullied. I felt unwanted. I was angry at myself, at others, and at the world. I carried dark thoughts — thoughts I acted on in ways I’m not proud of, and thoughts I almost acted on in ways I might not have survived.
I decided I was going to end my life. I had every intention of cutting my wrists. But in the middle of those thoughts, a fear gripped me:
What if I don’t really know Him? If I die, will I be in hell? Will I be separated from Him forever?
I knew God was real. But I realized maybe I wasn’t in Christ.
The Night Everything Changed
That night – and in the days that followed – I wrestled with God. I came to a point where I got down on my knees, literally, and told Him I was done running.
I asked Him to forgive me. I told Him I accepted what Jesus had done for me when He died on the cross – that His death paid the price for my sin. I chose to follow Him, to serve Him as my Good King.
And something happened. I can’t explain it any other way – but it was like I stepped out of the darkness into the light.
Peace settled in. Joy I had never known before came alive in me. It didn’t mean I never struggled again, but it meant I never struggled alone.
I told the Pastor at our little country church I wanted to be baptized. He smiled. He had dunked me several years before. But he knew that there had been a change in me. The first time, it was just a bath. This time, it was a commitment – a public declaration of what God had done for me.
Why I’m Telling You This
Here’s the thing: this isn’t about religion. It’s not about rules. It’s about a relationship with the One who made you, who loves you, and who gave His life for you.
Jesus isn’t just an inspiring teacher. He is God in the flesh. He died to pay for your sin, and He rose again so you could have real life – both now and forever.
And He’s calling you. Whether you’ve never known Him, or you’ve been away for years, He’s saying, Come home.
This Is Your Moment
You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t have to clean yourself up first.
All you have to do is turn to Him. Tell Him you believe. Ask Him to forgive you. Trust Him to lead you. He will meet you right where you are.
There are seasons when something inside of us feels… off. You might feel tired, numb, angry, or overwhelmed—and you can’t quite explain why. Maybe you’ve wrestled with anxiety or addiction. Maybe you feel like you’re stuck in patterns you should have broken by now. Or maybe—if you’re honest—it just feels like some part of your soul has gone cold.
You’re not alone.
But more importantly—you’re not without hope.
God specializes in resurrection.
He’s not just in the business of saving your soul for eternity—He wants to heal you here and now, breathe life into the parts of you that feel dead, and restore you from the inside out.
Why Do I Still Feel Broken?
We often try to deal with our emotional pain by managing symptoms. We work harder, eat more, scroll endlessly, escape into porn or alcohol, or throw ourselves into church work while feeling spiritually hollow.
But the problem is deeper than behavior.
In Soul Care, Rob Reimer writes:
“You can’t build a healthy soul on a foundation of lies. The foundation must be truth.”
That truth doesn’t come from self-help clichés. It comes from Jesus—the One who said, “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32, NLT).
Your behaviors are the fruit, not the root. If you want real healing, you have to get to the root—and let Jesus and the Holy Spirit do what only they can do.
How Do I Begin Inner Healing?
Healing isn’t about striving harder or checking off a spiritual to-do list. It’s about surrendering to the process—led by the Holy Spirit, anchored in the Word, and walked out in community.
Here’s how that journey can start.
1. Take Ownership (Confess and Come Clean)
We love to blame others or minimize our own dysfunction. But healing starts with confession—raw honesty before God and others.
“God desires truth in the inward parts.” — Psalm 51:6 (KJV)
You may not be responsible for what happened to you—but you are responsible for how you respond now.
“The Holy Spirit will not heal what you pretend is not there.” — Rob Reimer, Soul Care
Start by naming it. The sin. The wound. The shame. The fear. You can’t fix what you won’t face. But once you name it, you disarm its power.
2. Tell Yourself the Truth (Renew Your Mind)
The lies we believe about ourselves often started in childhood pain and trauma. “I’m not wanted.” “I’m a burden.” “I always mess things up.” These lies aren’t harmless—they become the lens through which we see the world.
“Our lives are shaped by the stories we tell ourselves—and many of those stories are lies.” — John Eldredge, Get Your Life Back
The Bible calls us to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, NLT). This means replacing toxic beliefs with the truth of God’s Word.
As Dallas Willard put it:
“You are what you do with your mind.”
So speak truth out loud:
“I am a child of God.” (John 1:12)
“I am not condemned.” (Romans 8:1)
“I have a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)
Renewal is warfare—and the battlefield is your thought life.
3. Dig Deep (Let the Holy Spirit Heal the Root)
This is the messy part. This is where most people stop—because it gets uncomfortable. But this is where the real work of healing happens.
“Freedom comes when we confess the truth, forgive the offender, and break agreement with the lie.” — Rob Reimer, Soul Care
Let the Holy Spirit guide you through these questions:
When was the first time I felt this way? Ask God to show you. He will. And it may surprise you.
What lie did I believe in that moment? That I’m not safe? Not valuable? Unwanted?
What is the truth, Jesus? Ask Him to speak. Then speak that truth out loud until it becomes part of you.
Did I make a vow I need to break? “I’ll never trust anyone again.” “I have to take care of myself.” Break those vows in Jesus’ name. Let Him rewire your inner world.
As Henry Cloud says:
“We change our behavior when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing.”
Let the Holy Spirit go to the roots. Invite Him into the places you’ve been too afraid to go.
4. Build New Habits (Walk in the Spirit, Not the Flesh)
You can’t experience spiritual freedom while continuing to feed the same old flesh patterns. That means you may need to change your inputs, adjust your schedule, or set new boundaries.
“Spiritual formation is not a passive process. It requires engagement and discipline.” — Dallas Willard
We’re not talking about white-knuckled willpower. We’re talking about forming new pathways—led by the Spirit.
Try this:
Worship first before you check your phone.
Fast from media that pulls you into comparison or lust.
Build margin in your week for reflection and prayer.
Sabbath without guilt—God designed you to rest.
“Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives.” — Galatians 5:25 (NLT)
Freedom isn’t just about saying “no” to sin. It’s about saying “yes” to life with God.
5. Don’t Do It Alone (Let the Body of Christ Walk With You)
You were never meant to heal in isolation.
“Healing happens in the context of safe, grace-filled relationships.” — Rob Reimer, Soul Care
We say it all the time at Open Arms: church isn’t a service—it’s a family. And families carry each other’s burdens.
If you’re waiting to feel “ready,” you’ll wait forever. Start where you are.
“Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” — James 5:16 (NLT)
Let God Breathe Life Into You
Maybe you’re tired of pretending you’re fine. Maybe you’ve been busy doing “Christian things” but feel spiritually hollow. Maybe, like the Pharisees Jesus rebuked, you’ve been focusing on performance while your soul quietly withers.
“Woe to you… you are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones.” — Matthew 23:27 (NLT)
To the people that reject Christ, that’s self-condemnation. But to those of us willing to hear, it’s invitation. Jesus isn’t condemning us for being dry bones. He speaks life into them.
In Ezekiel 37, God took a valley full of dead bones and brought them back to life. How? Through His Word, through His breath, and through His Spirit.
“I will put breath into you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.” — Ezekiel 37:6 (NLT)
That’s His promise for you, too. You don’t have to stay stuck. You don’t have to keep numbing out. Let Jesus put you back together. Let Him breathe on you again.
👣 Are You Ready to Come Back to Life?
It won’t happen overnight. But it starts with one step:
One truth spoken.
One wound confessed.
One lie broken.
One invitation to the Holy Spirit.
And then another. And another.
🔥 Join the Journey
Come walk it out with us. Open Arms Community Church meets Sunday mornings at 71 Congress Street in Bradford, PA. And our network of microchurches meets throughout the week in homes, coffee shops, and honest spaces all over the region.
Maybe you found this because you typed something into Google like:
Why do I feel so lost?
How do I get out of this dark place?
Is there any hope for me?
If that’s the case, I want to tell you something upfront: You are not alone.
A lot of us—more than we’d like to admit—have felt this way. We don’t talk about it, though. We just keep moving, pushing through, acting like it’s all okay while the weight of it presses down harder every day.
Hopelessness isn’t just a modern struggle. It’s something humanity has always wrestled with. Even the Bible captures the depths of despair that people have felt since the dawn of time.
God Understands Your Suffering
Isaiah 53:3 says: “He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces, he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.”
This verse is a prophetic verse that was written before Jesus was born, but is talking about Jesus Himself. He knows what it’s like to suffer. He knows what it’s like to feel rejected, alone, and completely abandoned. Whatever you’re feeling right now, He understands.
When we read about Jesus in the Gospels, we do see Jesus faced with human emotion, including grief, distress, and fatigue. The Bible says that He was tempted in every way that we are, and I’m sure that He felt the feelings that we have felt. He knows. And He CARES.
In Psalm 88:3-4, the writer cries out: “I am overwhelmed with troubles and my life draws near to death. I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like one without strength.”
Have you ever felt that way? Like you’re just barely holding on? Like no matter what you do, the weight of everything is too much?
You’re not the first to feel that. You’re not the only one. Even those closest to God have felt that same crushing darkness. But here’s what you need to know: darkness is not the end of the story.
What Should I Do If I Feel Hopeless?
You might be asking:
How do I get out of this feeling?
What steps can I take to get my life back?
It starts with admitting that you can’t fix it alone. But you don’t have to—because God is right here, and He cares about you.
1. Ask God for Help
One of the biggest lies we believe when we’re struggling is that God doesn’t care. That He’s distant. That He’s too busy to notice our pain.
But that’s not the truth.
1 Peter 5:7 says: “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”
God actually invites us to bring our burdens to Him. He’s not afraid of your pain. He’s not overwhelmed by your emotions. He wants to walk through it with you.
What does this look like?
Be honest with God. Tell Him what you’re feeling—even if it’s messy.
Ask Him for strength. Even if you don’t know what to say, just say, “God, help me.”
Don’t stop reaching out. Prayer doesn’t have to be formal—just talk to Him like you would a friend.
Psalm 34:17-18 reminds us: “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
If you feel hopeless, start here. Ask God for help. He hears you. He cares. And He won’t leave you alone in this.
You don’t have to pray a prescribed prayer, or follow a ritual. Just talk to Him like He’s your Dad. Like He’s in the room. He’s not offended by your emotion, your frustration, even if you’re a bit frustrated with Him. You can tell Him about that, and He can take it. But be willing to know the truth about Him, that He loves you, and wants to bring healing to the parts of you that are hurting.
I think of these lyrics from the song “Talkin’ to Jesus” There’s no wrong way to do it
There’s no bad time to start It don’t have to sound pretty Just tell Him what’s on your heart ‘Cause it’s not a religion ‘Cause it’s more like a friendship Just talk to your Father Like you are his kid
2. Be Careful What You Feed Your Mind
Maybe you’re wondering:
Why do I feel so much worse after scrolling through social media?
Does what I watch and listen to actually affect my mood?
The answer is yes.
There’s a phrase in programming: Garbage In, Garbage Out. If you feed a system garbage, it’s going to produce garbage. Your mind works the same way.
It seems like every few years, I got sucked into the political chaos leading up to whichever election is happening. I can find myself reading every article, watching the news, arguing online.
A few years ago I found myself pretty deep down the rabbit hole. I had really let my mind marinate in division, outrage, and hopelessness.
It wrecked me.
Then, as soon as the election was over, I shut it all off. And you know what happened? I felt peace again.
What are you feeding your mind? If it’s constant negativity, anger, and despair—no wonder you feel hopeless.
Philippians 4:8 reminds us: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
It’s time to replace the noise with truth, hope, and life.
It’s really easy for us to blame a condition, rather than to take responsibility.
I’m not saying that mental health diagnoses aren’t real. (We’ll talk about those things in a moment.) But what I am saying is, we need to make sure that we are thoughtful and careful about what we feed our mind AND our bodies, as they do have a direct impact on how we feel.
Are we eating junk? Are we physically active? Taking a walk? Taking a shower? Getting enough sleep? Listening to the most depressing or angry music? Scrolling on social media and listening to influencers show us how we don’t measure up? Watching the news while it loops through its cycle of outrage and despair?
3. Call in the Pros
If you broke your leg, you wouldn’t just tell yourself to “walk it off.” You’d go see a doctor. But when our mental and emotional health is broken, we tell ourselves to just “push through.”
That’s a lie. Sometimes, you need help.
There is no shame in talking to a counselor, seeing a doctor, or even taking medication if that’s what helps you get back on solid ground. Some of the strongest people you know have done the same thing—you just don’t see it because they don’t talk about it.
If you’re in a dark place right now, reach out. There are people who want to help.
📞 National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988 📞 Mental Health Treatment Referral Hotline: 1-877-726-4727
Even the Bible encourages seeking wise counsel. Proverbs 11:14 says: “Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.”
You don’t have to do this alone.
How Can I Heal from Past Wounds?
Maybe your hopelessness isn’t just about what’s happening right now. Maybe it’s been years in the making.
I didn’t realize how much my past was affecting me until I faced it head-on.
I was in kindergarten at the bus stop. Just a few weeks after school started. Two teenage brothers stood behind me. They stole my hat and threw it on top of a soda machine. Then, they pulled out a little box of matches.
Flick. Hushed laughter. SSSSST!
They put out the match on my neck. Then they did it again. Not just once, but several times over the next week. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I didn’t scream. I just let it happen. I was scared. I was angry. But I also felt like it was my problem.
I had no idea how much that experience shaped me. There are so many lies that I believed about myself and carried with me throughout my childhood and into my adulthood because of what those other boys did at the bus stop. There are actually many experiences in my early life that compounded on top of each other to really create a whirlwind of lies and wounds that I’m frequently taking to my Heavenly Father for healing so that I can learn and grow.
I know folks who say, “When I gave my life to Jesus, He just took all that away in an instant!”
And I’m in no position to argue with their experience. I just know for me, He certainly forgave my sin, redeemed my soul, and gave me a new life, adopted me into His family, and radically changed me when I submitted my life to Him… but it has taken me years to allow Him into the parts of my mind and heart that I didn’t even know were broken and hurting! Jesus and I are walking out a very long and patient journey of healing my deep hurts, and replacing the lies left in the wake of those hurts with His truth.
What lies are you still believing from your past?
Jesus offers healing. Psalm 147:3 says: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
He can do that for you, too.
Let God Heal the Broken Places in You
Sometimes, the wounds of our past keep us trapped in hopelessness. We try to move forward, but the pain lingers. The truth is, we can’t fully step into freedom until we invite God into those broken places—to heal, restore, and set us free.
In December 2023, Eric Eliason preached a powerful message at Open Arms Community Church called “Set the Captives Free.” In this sermon, he talks about how God wants to heal our past wounds so we can walk in true freedom.
If you’re struggling with hurt, trauma, or burdens from your past, this message is for you. Take a moment to watch it—and invite God to bring healing where you need it most.
When you’re struggling, it’s easy to feel like God is distant—or worse, that He doesn’t care. Maybe you’ve prayed before and nothing seemed to change. Maybe people told you to “just have more faith,” and it didn’t help.
But faith is not about pretending everything is fine. It’s about trusting God in the middle of the mess.
Jesus Understands Your Pain
If you’ve ever felt completely alone in your suffering, I want you to know Jesus understands exactly what that feels like.
Jesus, the Son of God, went through deep emotional and physical pain. He knows what it’s like to feel crushed, rejected, and in agony. You are not alone in this.
Isaiah 53:4-5 says: “Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”
Jesus took all of our pain, all of our suffering, and all of our brokenness upon Himself. He didn’t just come to teach us how to live—He came to rescue us from the darkness.
God is the Source of Real Hope
Faith doesn’t mean you’ll never struggle. It doesn’t mean every bad feeling instantly disappears. But faith gives you something solid to stand on when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.
Romans 15:13 says: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”
Real hope isn’t about wishful thinking. It’s about knowing that God is still in control, even when life feels overwhelming.
Hope says: “This pain is real, but it is not permanent.”
Hope says: “God has not forgotten me, even when I feel invisible.”
Hope says: “God can turn this mess into something beautiful.”
What Does This Mean for You?
If you’re in a dark place, here’s what I want you to know:
1️⃣ You don’t have to fix yourself before coming to God. He meets you right where you are. 2️⃣ You can be honest with God. If you’re angry, confused, or struggling—tell Him. He already knows, and He wants to walk with you through it. 3️⃣ You don’t have to do this alone. God designed us for community. Surround yourself with people who will encourage and pray for you.
Psalm 40:1-2 says: “I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.”
No matter how deep the pit feels, God is strong enough to pull you out.
Jesus is not afraid of your darkness. He is the light. And He wants to lead you out of it.
Want to Go Deeper? Watch Our Sermon Series on Overcoming Depression
If you’re struggling with depression, despair, or feelings of hopelessness, you’re not alone—and you don’t have to fight this battle alone.
Back in 2014, Pastor Mike McAvoy led a powerful sermon series at Open Arms Community Church called “Defeating the Dragon of Depression and Despair.” In this series, he dives deep into the spiritual, emotional, and practical aspects of overcoming depression, offering biblical wisdom and real hope.
We encourage you to take some time to watch these messages and let God’s truth replace the lies of hopelessness.
1️⃣ Ask God for help. He hears you and cares for you. 2️⃣ Take inventory of what you’re feeding your mind. Start replacing negativity with hope. 3️⃣ Reach out for help. A friend, a pastor, a counselor—don’t keep this to yourself.
Join Us for Prayer on Monday Night
If you need hope, if you need someone to pray for you, if you just need to be in a place where you’re not alone—join us at Open Arms Community Church for our Monday Night Prayer Meeting. No pressure, no judgment. Just a time to seek peace and healing together.
