Imitation Game

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Not all comforts bring peace. 

When pain feels too sharp to bear, when grief sits heavy, when betrayal shatters your trust, when the future fades into fog, it’s only human to reach for something that takes away the hurt - something that promises escape. For some, it’s food, scrolling, or another drink. For others, it’s isolation, anger, control, or the familiar cloak of shame. These are what I call dark comforts - illusions that feel safe because they’re predictable; the kind that whisper peace while quietly inviting us to disappear.

The enemy is clever. He doesn’t always tempt with wild sin; sometimes, he simply offers comfort that keeps us from healing. He whispers, “You deserve this.” “It’s too hard to face.” “No one will understand.” And so we build shelters out of things that can’t hold us. This “comfort” becomes our refuge - but also our perpetual prison.

When we numb ourselves with distraction, we delay our healing. When we hide in shame, we disconnect from love. When we cling to bitterness, we forfeit peace. Every dark comfort is an imitation of what God offers freely - rest, security, belonging, hope.

It is written in Psalms:


“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1


The question is not whether we’ll seek shelter, but where we’ll find it. Before anything else - if you’re walking through grief, heartbreak, trauma, or loneliness - I need you to hear this: God is not indifferent to your pain. He doesn’t minimize it, and neither should we.

He saw Hagar crying in the wilderness and called her by name (Genesis 16:13).
He wept at Lazarus’s tomb (John 11:35).
He bore the full weight of sorrow on the cross.

So when I talk about turning from false comforts, I’m not saying “just get over it” or “have more faith.” I’m saying: Bring it to Him instead. Because He is strong enough to hold what you can’t.

That might look like going on a quiet prayer walk when anxiety rises instead of reaching for distraction. Or opening His Word when your mind starts to spiral, asking Him to remind you of what’s true. It could mean sitting in stillness and letting tears fall in His presence instead of hiding behind the mask of, “I’m fine.” Or praying for exposure - asking Him to reveal the roots beneath your reactions, even when it hurts.

God never asks us to pretend the pain isn’t real - only to stop letting it drive us toward destruction. The enemy’s goal isn’t just to make us sin - it’s to make us settle. To keep us living in survival mode instead of growing in spirit. He wants us so accustomed to darkness that we recoil at the first glimpse of light.

Jesus said,


“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  John 10:10


Dark comforts steal life in slow motion; they promise control but create chains. They feel like an escape but lead to deeper captivity.

Lies like:

  • If I ignore it, it will go away.

  • If I isolate, I won’t get hurt again.

  • If I stay busy, I won’t have to feel it.

  • If I punish myself, I’ll finally deserve forgiveness.

When God Calls You Out of the Shadows

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah runs for his life. Exhausted and afraid, he hides in a cave, begging God to let him die. He’s spent, broken, and done. And yet, God doesn’t rebuke him; He meets him there.

God provides food, rest, and finally a whisper - a still, small voice calling him out.

“Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’”  1 Kings 19:13

That same question comes to us in our “caves.” Not as condemnation, but as an invitation. What are you doing here? Why are you clinging to what cannot heal you? When God asks questions, it’s not because He needs answers - it’s because He wants to awaken us to what we’ve settled for.

The truth is, walking with God is harder than hiding with our comforts. Healing requires honesty- exposure. Forgiveness requires humility. Growth requires surrender. But that’s where freedom lives.

Real comfort doesn’t numb the pain - it redeems it. It draws us nearer to the Father. It teaches us that our worth isn’t found in performance or control, but in being His beloved. So when the next wave of pain comes and you feel yourself reaching for distraction or old habits, pause. Ask: What am I really needing right now?

  • If it’s rest, ask Him to be your rest.

  • If it’s love, ask Him to remind you that you’re seen.

  • If it’s control, ask Him to show you His sovereignty.


Every temptation to run from God is also an opportunity to run to Him. It takes courage to choose light when darkness feels safer. It takes faith to believe God can handle the full story - not the edited, “perfect” version, but the tears, the anger, the doubt.And He can.

David poured out every emotion before God - fear, rage, despair - and yet God called him “a man after My own heart.” Not because David was perfect, but because he kept bringing his heart back to the One who could heal it.


“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”  Psalm 139:23-24


That’s what walking out of dark comfort looks like. Letting God search you. Letting Him see what you’ve been hiding. Letting His light enter the spaces you thought were too broken to touch. At first, it might feel like loss - to lay down the habits that once helped you survive - but what you’ll find in their place is peace that doesn’t disappear when the night comes.

The peace of knowing you are not alone. The peace of knowing your pain is not wasted. The peace of knowing the Comforter Himself dwells within you.


“And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, for he dwells with you and will be  in you.  John 14:16-17


When you turn away from false comforts, you make space for the real One.


Closing Prayer

Lord, You see the places where I’ve run to everything but You. The lies I’ve believed about safety, control, and shame. Forgive me for trusting what cannot heal me. Teach me to walk with You in honesty, to find comfort in Your presence, and to rest beneath Your shadow. Replace every false refuge with Your peace. In Jesus’ name, amen.

 
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Run to the Father