How To Be Brave When You Don’t Feel Brave | Therapy & Theology with Lysa TerKeurst

Recently, I had the opportunity to join another podcast and reflect on just how drastically my life has changed over the years. Looking back even four, five, or ten years, my current life is something I never anticipated. It’s different, yes, but as we discussed in the previous episode, different can actually mean something really wonderful. For those of you who’ve been following my journey, this might sound familiar. But for anyone new, here’s a quick update: I recently got remarried.

During the podcast, my good friend—who was interviewing me—asked, “Alright, Lisa, be honest. Is it truly as wonderful as it seems?” She then shared a story about a friend who married in her 40s. This friend told her, “I love being married, but honestly, there are challenges. It’s not always as perfect as it seems.” So, my friend was curious about my experience, and I told her, “Actually, it is as good as it seems.”

Getting remarried, especially to a wonderful partner in a healthy relationship, has been as fulfilling as I always hoped. But here’s the important part: this new relationship doesn’t magically fix everything within me. The parts of me that were broken before—the ones that need healing—still require work. The beauty of a loving relationship doesn’t erase those inner wounds because true healing is an inside job.

This brought me to the topic I want to explore today: inner resilience. We often talk about brokenness, healing, relationships, and how our perspectives evolve, but today I want to focus on what happens when someone’s been deeply hurt, betrayed, or had their trust broken multiple times. When pain limits our outlook, it can feel like we’re living a life constrained by past hurts. That’s exactly where I was a few years back. I couldn’t imagine the future because, honestly, I didn’t want the one I saw.

Back then, before meeting Chaz, dating, or envisioning the possibility of a fulfilling life, I felt overwhelmed by hurt. I had unintentionally shrunk my life down to fit around my pain. I vividly remember a moment on vacation at the beach with two friends. We had planned a fun day by the shore, and I was getting everything ready, including my little cooler with ice to keep my drinks cold. When I tried to get ice from the ice maker, though, it jammed. As I stood there, unable to get any ice, I suddenly felt an irrational wave of anger. I found myself muttering, “If he hadn’t betrayed me, we’d still be together. He’d fix this ice maker, and I’d have ice.”

I knew my reaction was over-the-top, yet I couldn’t shake it. My anger bubbled up over something as trivial as ice, but then it hit me: what if I could fix it myself? That question turned into action. I tried Googling instructions to repair the ice maker but quickly realized written instructions wouldn’t help me much. Then, I discovered YouTube tutorials. I thought, “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s already broken.” So, I watched the video, and here’s what happened next…