“Yes, And Amen: How Improv Taught Me to Heal, Hope, and Live

You don’t expect healing to come with a punchline. Especially not when you're face-down in

grief, gasping for air between sobs and survival. But God? He’s the Master of the unexpected.

A couple years ago, I walked into an improv class just looking for a laugh—maybe even to

remember what laughter felt like again. I was deep in my own valley, walking through layers of

trauma and loss that felt like they'd taken a sledgehammer to my soul. But God used the most

unexpected thing—improv comedy—to begin rewiring my mind and heart.

Turns out, healing doesn’t always come in quiet church pews or long therapy sessions (though I

honor both). Sometimes it shows up in a circle of strangers saying “Yes, and…

” to your messy, raw, glorious humanness.

Lesson 1: Say “Yes, And… to Life—Even When It Hurts

In improv, the first rule is "Yes, and...

" It means you accept what’s been said or done, and then you build on it. You don’t reject the scene. You don’t shut down the moment. You step in and contribute.

Sounds like faith, doesn’t it?

Life threw me curveballs I never signed up for. Loss, trauma, betrayal, heartbreak—the kind of

stuff that makes you question everything. But improv taught me not to deny the pain, but to

respond with “Yes, and…”

Yes, this happened. And God is still good.

Yes, this broke me. And I am being rebuilt stronger.

Yes, the story took a turn. And God is not finished yet.

Scripture reminds us in Romans 8:28:

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who

have been called according to His purpose.”

That “yes, and” is a spiritual practice. It’s the holy art of accepting what is and adding to it what

God can do next.

Lesson 2: You Can’t Control the Scene—But You Can Show Up

In improv, there’s no script. You don’t know what’s coming next. You just respond. It’s terrifying

and freeing at the same time. Sound like life yet?

I used to live needing control—plans, backup plans, predictable outcomes. Trauma made me

cling tighter. But Jesus calls us to surrender.

Proverbs 3:5-6 nails it:

“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.”

Improv taught me to lean in, not lean on my own logic. To respond to life with presence, not

panic. To trust that the scene would evolve, even when I couldn’t see the ending.

Lesson 3: Laughter Isn’t a Luxury—It’s a Weapon

Neuroscience now confirms what Scripture’s been telling us for centuries: laughter heals. It

releases serotonin and dopamine, rewires neural pathways, and breaks cycles of fear.

Proverbs 17:22 says:

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

In the darkest days, improv reminded me to laugh. Not because everything was okay, but

because God was still on the throne. It reminded me that joy can coexist with pain. That healing

doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It sneaks in during moments of laughter, connection, and

even goofiness.

Lesson 4: The Power of Presence

Improv demands you be fully present. No dwelling on the past. No jumping to the future. Just

now. Jesus modeled this. He didn’t rush to outcomes—He dwelled with people in the moment. With Mary at the tomb. With Peter on the beach. With the bleeding woman in the crowd.In the hardest seasons, I learned the sacredness of now. Healing doesn’t always come with

giant miracles. Sometimes it’s in the breath you just took. The connection you just made. The

smile you didn’t expect.

Improv is a Glimpse of the Kingdom

What I discovered is this: improv is a picture of grace. Of new mercies every morning. Of

co-creating with God in the messiness of life. Of taking what is, and daring to believe something

beautiful can still be made from it.

And now? I’m not just using improv for my healing—I’m using it to set others free. Veterans,

prisoners, people in recovery, and anyone navigating mental health challenges. We’re teaching

them the same lessons I learned in that first class: You are not your past. You are not your pain.

You are not stuck in a script you didn’t write. With the Holy Spirit as our Director, every moment is an invitation to step into a new scene.

One full of faith.

One full of laughter.

One full of possibility.

Yes, and Amen.

Step Into the Scene God Has for You

Friend, you don’t need to wait for life to make sense before you start living again. You don’t

need all the answers, just a willingness to say “Yes, and…

” to the season you’re in. Healing doesn’t always come in a flash—it often shows up in the small, brave decision to show up, try again, and trust that God is doing a new thing.

If you’re still trying to make sense of a loss or walking through the fog of grief, I want you to

know—you’re not alone. There is hope. There is healing. And there’s a way forward that doesn’t

deny the pain but transforms it.

I’d be honored to walk with you. Reach out to me anytime at Kelli@graceforlivingafterloss.com.

You don’t have to grieve alone—and you don’t have to stay stuck in the scene you’re in. Let’s

write a new one together.