Growing up Christian, I’ve held onto my faith as an anchor through many seasons. Yet, it wasn't until I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome at 30 that I really understood prayer, stillness, and meditation on the Word. This diagnosis threw me into a new world of mindbody healing, which, in many ways, fleshed out my beliefs and more clearly defined my relationship with Christ to be stronger, softer, and more real. Not just a belief but a presence.

This process is opening my eyes to deeply ingrained beliefs I hadn’t questioned—beliefs I had unknowingly absorbed from well-meaning messages over the years from church, community, and culture. Think the 'good girls don't' messaging, the 'if you're not healed it's because your faith isn't strong enough' idea, don't be a victim (suppress it), non-mainstream medicine is woo woo and possibly demonic, and many other ideas from various places.

Many of these ideas, several rooted in a “power through it” mindset, contributed to emotional repression, which eventually manifested as chronic pain and fatigue. As I delved deeper into mindbody healing, I started to see that I had mistaken rigidity for resilience and control for faith.

It hasn’t been easy, and I still wrestle with the challenges, but I’m slowly whittling away at these engrained 'core beliefs' and replacing them with biblical truths. I’m sharing my journey because I know there are others out there with the same struggles who are also searching for a way to heal, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Along with growing in my prayer life and the presence of Christ, my confidence in my conversations is growing. Some of the practices I’ve explored have made me feel as though I’m crossing invisible lines within the church community. Certain methods might seem “woo-woo” or unconventional to some Christians, but after prayer, seeking guidance from our church community, and wrestling with these doubts myself, I am confident that God led me to these methods as part of His healing plan for me.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5)

Before, when I was locked in trauma and dysregulation, an authentic connection with Christ felt almost out of reach. People would say, have you prayed about it, and I would think, 'sure, that's gonna help.' Verses prescribing stillness and meditation seemed... Irrelevant. Because when I'd try it all I'd hear were my scary racing thoughts.

In learning to face my pain instead of fighting it, and in working through layers of emotional and physical healing, I’ve begun experiencing an intimacy with Christ that I never knew was possible.

“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28)

In my pain, I’ve learned to see healing as less about fixing and more about surrendering, about trusting that God’s rest is there even when my body and mind feel weary. And I've got to say, it's really freaking hard. Pardon my french.

Through all of this, I’ve come to realize that healing is deeply personal. Not every practice I’ve used or encouraged others to use will resonate with everyone—and that’s okay. Conviction guides my practice, my message, and my confidence in the tools God's given me that have helped me get to where I am now (not cured but leaps and bounds beyond needing help cutting my own food).

There will always be those who question or even disapprove of my approach, and I respect that. We are all on unique journeys with God, and I can only speak to what He’s revealed to me through my experience. Healing is not a one-size-fits-all formula; it’s an invitation to walk with God in a way that brings us closer to His love, however, that may look in each of our lives.

If there’s one thing I hope to share with anyone walking through chronic pain, it’s that Christ’s healing is real. It's messy and hard but there is a path. It may not look the way we imagined, or follow our timeline, but if we can let ourselves feel instead of fighting, if we can soften instead of doubling down on control, we create the space for God to work within us. Healing with Christ might mean surrendering in ways we’ve never considered. It might mean letting go of the need to understand everything, learning to rest in His presence, and trusting His timing, however slow or unpredictable it may feel.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18)

This journey I’m sharing comes in the wake of a month filled with setbacks, days where healing felt distant. I understand that healing doesn’t always feel bright, shiny, or immediately rewarding even with Christ as our guide. It’s a process—a path we walk step by step, not a one-time 'we're cured' event (as I repeat this to myself over and over again). There are highs and lows, moments of clarity, and times of doubt. But with each small step, I am reminded that Christ walks beside me, offering grace for each day. Healing takes time, and sometimes it’s about finding peace in the journey itself, trusting that God is working within us.