Ask someone how they’re doing, and the answer often comes quickly.
“I’m fine.”
Sometimes that’s true. But often, it’s a signal that something has gone quiet inside. “I’m fine” can mean:
I’ve learned how to cope.
I don’t want to talk about it.
I’m tired of wrestling with this.
I’ve accepted things the way they are.
Spiritually, that kind of answer can be dangerous. Not because it’s hostile to God, but because it can reflect settled resignation. A slow adjustment to conditions that are not healthy, not holy, and not what God desires.
Jeremiah confronted this kind of shallow reassurance head-on:
“They have treated my people’s brokenness superficially, claiming, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.”
(Jeremiah 6:14, CSB)
Calling something “fine” does not make it whole.
Comfort Can Hide Decay
The Bible repeatedly warns that comfort can mask serious spiritual problems. People don’t usually drift because they reject God outright. They drift because nothing feels urgent anymore. We must not forget what Jesus said to the church in Laodicea:
“Because you say, ‘I’m rich; I have become wealthy and need nothing,’ and you don’t know that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.”
(Revelation 3:17, CSB)
These Christians weren’t hostile. They weren’t persecuted or panicked. They were comfortable. And that comfort blinded them. Feeling fine is not the same as being faithful.
When Sensitivity Fades
One of the clearest signs of spiritual trouble is not open rebellion, but dullness. Our conviction becomes quieter. Our prayers may become routine. Our bible reading informs the mind but no longer confronts the heart. A seared conscience doesn’t ache anymore. It feels… fine.
The psalmist describes a way of life lived without God in view:
“In all his thoughts, there is no room for God.”
(Psalm 10:4, CSB)
Not because God is denied, but because He is no longer consulted.
God Does Not Ask for Polite Answers
God never asks His people to manage appearances. The Psalms are filled with prayers that are raw, unsettled, and honest. Fear is admitted. Confusion is spoken. Weariness is not hidden.
David prayed,
“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my concerns. See if there is any offensive way in me; lead me in the everlasting way.”
(Psalm 139:23–24, CSB)
That prayer leaves no room for “I’m fine.” We see the same encouragement in the New Testament. Here’s what the writer of Hebrews said:
“Encourage each other daily, while it is still called today, so that none of you is hardened by sin’s deception.”
(Hebrews 3:13, CSB)
Deception does not always feel dangerous. Often, it feels settled.
A Better Measure
Instead of asking whether we feel fine, Scripture pushes us to ask better questions:
Am I still tender toward God’s word? (Psalm 119:36)
Am I quick to repent when convicted? (2 Corinthians 7:10)
Am I attentive to God’s presence, or merely religious in habit? (Isaiah 29:13)
“I’m fine” may preserve comfort. But honesty invites renewal. And God works powerfully with hearts that are open, even when they are tired, uncertain, or exposed. Especially then.
Our minister preached a sermon a while ago about "I'm fine." He warned us not to use "I'm fine" as a shield from other members of the family of Christ. The sermon came just before the congregation reshuffled our family groups.
The sermon made a tremendous difference for the congregation. We are more open about our struggles. Before I led my first family group get-together, I sent the members a link to a congregation singing "God's Family." When the preacher's mom asked what Bible study we were going to do, I said, "We aren't going to do one. We know how to do devotionals and Bible studies. For our family group, we're doing something different: we're going to talk to each other. We're going to get to know each other.
It worked: we are much closer, much more intimate. Our Sunday family group meals are what family Sunday dinners used to be. We pray for each other, of course. But we also check on each other routinely. We laugh, we cry, we hug. We are a Church family. It's been a real blessing for my wife, who had almost given up on the Church. Now her closest friends are fellow Christian women.
All because we stopped using "I'm fine" as a shield....
Thank you for this message!
Often our peers aren't truly interested in how we are doing. The question, "how are you" is asked but without expecting an in-depth answer.
Having struggled with health issues for many years, (some of those years my attendance only reached the 25% mark in the tracking software), I learned to say, "I'm fine" because when I answered with how I REALLY was, mind you after a very long absence, there was an inability to cope with the unexpected information. I learned to say, "I'm here" - meaning I am better enough to leave the house, but not doing very well. It was more honest from me, and allowed them to explore further if they were interested.
I was told by an older, well-meaning woman, that I should really just say "I'm fine" and leave it at that (a generational coping method, I know). But I told her, if the ONLY conversation I ever have with my brethren is when I am able to be at the building - then I have no avenue for help with bearing the burden that is so overwhelming.
Sometimes - "I'm fine" is as much a surrender to the lack of concern from others (including spouses) as it is a surrender to the state of things.
We can learn to bear up under the weight alone by trusting in the Lord. We can fill the gaps by trying to be for others the thing that we have needed and not gotten. But there will always be a void that is left if the warning signs for such responses are not recognized by both ourselves and those around us.
Brethren who work to understand what others are going through - to really hear them and find ways to be there the way they are needed will grow a much stronger body of Christ in a local area. Burdens needs to be met with prayers and scripture. You never know how best to apply them if you don't know what is really going on in someone's life.