The Wounded Healer: My Journey from Pain to the Wonder of Jesus' Kept Promises

You might have noticed something different about my blog.

The header now reads: "The Wounded Healer."

That's not a marketing decision. It's not a brand strategy.

It's the most honest thing I can say about who I am and what I do.

I'm not the expert who has it all figured out. I'm not the teacher with perfect answers. I'm not the relationship guru with a flawless marriage to prove my methods work.

I'm the wounded healer.

Someone who's been broken, is still healing, and is using those wounds to help others heal.

And if you're going through the worst time of your life right now, I want to tell you my story. Not because it's dramatic or impressive.

But because I want you to know: life after your worst times can be even better than you ever imagined.

November 2022: When My World Fell Apart

In November 2022, my worst fear became reality. After 28 years of marriage, it was going to end.

And I thought my life was over.

Not just my marriage. My identity. My ministry. My future.

I'm the son of Dr. Gary Smalley, one of the most recognized names in Christian marriage ministry. I'd spent 30 years following in his footsteps, helping couples transform their marriages, teaching people how to love well.

And I couldn't save my own marriage.

The shame was crushing. The fear was paralyzing.

I was certain ministry was over. Who would trust a divorced marriage counselor? Who would take advice from someone whose own life fell apart?

I thought God was done with me.

But I was wrong.

The Escape Plan: Running to Florida

In November of 2022, I had a plan.

I was going to run away from everything.

I'd move to Florida. Sell roofs. Leave ministry behind. Start over where nobody knew me or my story.

It seemed like the only option. Ministry was clearly over. My credibility was shot. My heart was shattered.

So I headed toward Fort Myers, Florida, ready to disappear into a new life.

The job was lined up. The plan was set. I was going to sell roofs and leave my past behind.

But God had other plans.

Stranded in Destin: When God Says "Not Yet"

The roofing job fell through.

Not delayed. Not postponed. It just... never happened.

And there I was, stranded in Destin, Florida for an entire month with no job, no plan, and no idea what to do next.

I was furious. I felt abandoned.

"God, I'm trying to move forward! I'm trying to start over! Why are You blocking this?"

But in that stranded month, something shifted.

God whispered: I'm not blocking your escape. I'm redirecting your path.

And He prompted me to call Justin and Lauren Stone—friends I hadn't spoken to in years.

The Stones: Being Taken In When You're Broken

I'll never forget that call.

"Justin, God told me to call you. I'm in Florida, and my life is falling apart. I tried to get a job here, but it didn't work out. I just... I don't know what to do. I remember you guys have a spare bedroom; would you be open to me coming and staying for a bit to get my feet back under me?"

Justin's response changed everything.

"Come to Colorado. Stay with us. Take the time you need to heal."

They took me in.

Not because I had it together. Not because I could offer them anything.

But because that's what the body of Christ does—we carry each other when we can't walk.

Living with the Stone family was profoundly healing. They saw me at my worst—broken, confused, grieving—and they loved me anyway.

They didn't try to fix me. They just gave me space to heal.

And in that space, God started doing what only He can do.

Lebanon: Healing Through Serving

While I was with the Stones, another opportunity emerged.

A chance to go to Southern Lebanon and work with Syrian refugees.

I didn't feel ready. I didn't feel qualified. I was still healing from my own wounds.

But God doesn't wait until you're perfect to use you.

So I went.

And serving refugees who had lost everything—their homes, their families, their countries—gave me perspective on my own losses.

These people had real trauma. Real devastation. And they kept going.

They reminded me that pain doesn't disqualify you. It equips you to comfort others with the comfort you've received.

I wasn't there as the expert with answers. I was there as a fellow wounded person learning to let God heal us together.

Saved From War: When God Protects Even When You Don't See It

Then war broke out between Israel and Hezbollah.

And I had to evacuate. Immediately.

I left everything in my apartment—all my belongings, all my stuff—and flew out with just what I could carry.

No plan. No destination. Just faith that God knew where I was going even if I didn't.

I ended up flying to Ethiopia with literally no idea what I'd do when I got there.

But God was already three steps ahead.

Ethiopia: Ministry When You Least Expect It

My sister was heading to Ethiopia at almost the exact same time I arrived.

Coincidence? Not even close.

She connected me with Ordinary Hero ministry—an organization serving orphans, widows, lepers, and abused women in Ethiopia.

And suddenly, I had purpose again.

Not the ministry I planned. Not the platform I built. Not the credibility I thought I needed.

But real ministry. Serving the broken and forgotten.

Working with orphans who'd lost their parents. Sitting with widows who'd lost their husbands. Serving lepers who'd been cast out by society. Listening to abused women who were learning to hope again.

These weren't people impressed by my credentials or my father's name.

They just needed someone who understood suffering. Someone who'd been broken too.

And that's when I realized: My wounds weren't disqualifying me from ministry. They were preparing me for it.

Colorado: Living in a Bus Down by the River

When I returned to the States, the Stones offered me something incredible.

"Live with us. Rent-free. In 'The Bus.'"

The Bus (also called a Schoolie) is a converted school bus—basically a tiny RV parked on their property in the mountains of Colorado.

If you'd asked me at any point in my life if I'd be content living in a converted school bus, I would have laughed.

But it was perfect.

Living simply. Serving the Stone family. Healing in the mountains.

It was exactly what I needed.

And here's the humorous part: I was literally living in a van down by the river. (If you know the old Chris Farley SNL sketch, you get it.)

But I was more content in that bus than I'd been in years.

Because I'd finally stopped running. Stopped trying to control outcomes. Stopped demanding life look a certain way.

I was just... healing. And serving. And trusting God.

And for the first time in years, I had peace.

Texas: The Life I Never Imagined

Now, at 52, I'm living in Texas with my youngest son David, his wife K'leigh, and my 2.5-year-old grandson Remington.

They asked me to move with them.

I didn't pursue it. I didn't manipulate it. I didn't even suggest it.

But the person I'd become through healing was someone they wanted around.

They wanted my help. My presence. My encouragement.

After three months, it's proving to be one of the most joy-filled seasons of my life.

I get to help them. Serve them. Play with my grandson. Be present in their lives.

And I get to do more ministry than ever before.

Because I'm not married, I can get up and go wherever God leads, wherever I'm needed.

I don't have to manage a dying relationship. I don't have to walk on eggshells. I don't have to pour energy into trying to fix what I couldn't fix.

I'm free. Not just free from marriage. Free to actually live the calling God gave me.

What My Wounds Taught Me

Here's what I've learned through this journey:

Lesson #1: God Doesn't Abandon You Even When You Try to Run

I tried to escape to Florida to sell roofs.

God stranded me there and redirected my path.

He wasn't punishing me. He was protecting me.

Because the life I was running toward was smaller than the life He had planned.

When you're in your worst season, it feels like God has abandoned you.

But He hasn't. He's redirecting you toward something you can't see yet.

Lesson #2: Your Wounds Become Your Ministry

I thought my divorce disqualified me from ministry.

But it actually qualified me for a different kind of ministry—ministry to the wounded, the broken, the ones who are barely hanging on.

The people who need me most aren't the ones looking for perfect answers from perfect experts.

They're the ones looking for hope from someone who's been in the pit and found a way out.

My wounds aren't my shame anymore. They're my credibility.

Lesson #3: Life After Your Worst Times Can Be Even Better

If you'd told me in November 2022 that my life would be better in a few years, I wouldn't have believed you.

But it's true.

Not because my circumstances are perfect. Not because I got everything I wanted.

But because I'm finally authentic. Finally honest. 

I love ministry more now than ever before because I'm not pretending anymore. I'm just showing up as a wounded healer, helping other wounded people find healing. And that's more satisfying than anything I did before.

Lesson #4: God Keeps His Promises Even When You Can't See How

Jesus promised He would never leave me or forsake me.

When my marriage ended, I didn't believe that promise applied to me anymore.

But He proved it.

In Destin. In Lebanon. In Ethiopia. In Colorado. In Texas.

Every step of this impossible journey, He was there.

Not preventing the pain. But walking through it with me. Redirecting my steps. Opening doors I couldn't see. Providing people to carry me when I couldn't walk.

God keeps His promises. Even when you can't see how. Even when it doesn't look like you expected.

Why "The Wounded Healer"?

So why did I name my blog "The Wounded Healer"?

Because that's the most honest description of who I am. I'm not the expert who has it all figured out. I'm the guy who's been through hell and is still learning what it means to let God heal me.

I'm not teaching from a place of arrival. I'm teaching from a place of ongoing transformation.

And the resources I create now? They come from my wounds:

Rise - My 12-step recovery curriculum came from my own journey of addressing my signature sins and learning that I was powerless without God.

Letting Go In Love - This course came from learning to release control and trust God with outcomes I couldn't manage.

The Narcissism Scale - Understanding the toxic dynamics that contribute to relationship breakdown came from my own experience navigating unhealthy patterns.

Marriage Breakthrough Experience - Helping couples find breakthrough came from discovering that transformation happens faster when you stop trying to change your spouse and start working on yourself.

Every resource I create now is stained with my own blood, sweat, and tears.

Not because I'm special. But because that's what makes them real.

The Message for You

If you're in the worst season of your life right now, I want you to hear this:

God hasn't abandoned you. Your wounds don't disqualify you. Life can be better on the other side of this.

I know it doesn't feel that way right now. I know you can't see how.

But I'm living proof that God keeps His promises.

He saved me from myself when I tried to run to Florida. He gave me family in the Stones when I had none. He gave me purpose in Lebanon when I felt useless. He protected me from war when I didn't even know I needed protecting. He gave me ministry in Ethiopia when I thought ministry was over. He gave me healing in Colorado when I thought healing was impossible. He gave me joy in Texas when I thought joy was gone forever.

Every single step, He was faithful.

Not by preventing pain. But by being present IN the pain. By redeeming what was broken. By using my wounds to help others heal.

And He'll do the same for you.

Your worst season is not your final season.

Your wounds are not your disqualification—they're your preparation.

Your pain is not wasted—it's being redeemed into something beautiful.

Trust Him. Even when you can't see how. Even when it doesn't make sense.

He's keeping His promises. Even when you can't see it yet.

An Invitation

I don't know what wounds you're carrying right now.

I don't know what pain has broken you or what losses have devastated you.

But I know this: God can use your wounds to heal others.

Not someday when you're perfect. Not after you have it all figured out.

Right now. In the midst of your healing.

Because the world doesn't need more experts with perfect answers.

The world needs more wounded healers—people who've been broken and are learning what it means to let God put them back together.

Maybe that's you.

Maybe you're reading this and thinking, "My life is falling apart. I thought God was done with me."

He's not.

He's redirecting you. Preparing you. Healing you.

And your wounds? They're going to become your ministry.

Not because you're special. But because that's what God does with broken things.

He doesn't waste our pain. He redeems it.

Resources Born From My Wounds

If my story resonates with you and you're looking for help on your own healing journey, these resources came directly from my wounds:

Rise: 12-Step Recovery Curriculum - Learning to address signature sins and surrender to God's power instead of relying on willpower.

Letting Go In Love Course ($17) - Releasing control and trusting God with outcomes while loving well.

Marriage Breakthrough Experience - 4-hour intensive creating immediate breakthroughs when your marriage is in crisis.

Explore all resources: smalleyinstitute.com/store

Text me at (303) 435-2630  or email [email protected] - I'm here to help.

Remember: You're not disqualified by your wounds. You're being prepared by them. God doesn't waste pain—He redeems it. Your worst season is not your final season. Trust Him. He's keeping His promises even when you can't see how.

What wounds are you carrying that God might be preparing to use? Share in the comments—your story might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today.