Mine is a Story of Healing, not Hurt

Sometimes healing begins long before we have language for the hurt. Sometimes God starts restoring what we don’t yet know how to name.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” - Psalm 147:3

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me. I didn’t understand why I felt unworthy, why shame seemed to follow me, or why I cried so often feeling misunderstood.

I lived in a fog of confusion, not knowing why I sought worth in the ways I did, why my sense of identity felt fragile, or why I couldn’t talk to anyone about the ache inside me. God was quietly holding me through it all, even when I didn’t understand what I was carrying or how to ask for help.

And then, slowly, things started to shift. Not in a single moment, but through a series of gentle nudges, honest conversations, brave prayers, and moments of clarity that helped me finally name what had been buried for years. I even began to see freedom and peace slowly emerge where there had once only been pain.

While training to teach trauma-informed yoga, I thought my purpose was to help other women heal, but God started to reveal the plans for my own healing too. In being vulnerable with a friend, I found someone who had walked a path similar to mine, and I finally felt seen. Going through therapy, I slowly learned how to carry my story without shame and to embrace the healing God was bringing into my life.

With the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I’ve learned to forgive. I have found a peace that has slowly, but faithfully, been restoring me from the inside out. I’ve come to see how faithfully God has been tending the hidden parts of my heart. How to not linger in the past, but to testify to what Jesus has been rebuilding in the places no one else could see. All while His healing touch has reached corners of my heart I didn’t know how to reach on my own.

Through whispered prayers.
Through tear-soaked journal pages.
Through moments when I finally let myself be seen by safe people.
Through the gentle presence of God in the places I once felt abandoned.

If you’ve ever felt lost, misunderstood, or burdened, I hope this reminds you: He sees you too.

He knows the wounds beneath your silence. He knows the ache beneath your strength. And restoration is possible. Knowing Him, it’s already beginning, even if you can’t see it yet.

This is not a story of brokenness.
This is a story of the One who restores.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” – 2 Corinthians 1:3-4