Jacob was left alone, and a Man wrestled with him until daybreak....Then He said, “Let Me go, for day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let You go unless You declare a blessing on me.” 

So He asked him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” And He said, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have struggled with God and with men and have prevailed.” - Genesis 32:22 

Healing, thought of as acts of the supernatural, is more often felt as a powerless process. Prayers in church, a plea that God’s will be done, and waiting for the miraculous often cultivates feelings of powerlessness to do. Healing communes with the supernatural, though more often than not, it’s a journey of wrestling.

God wants to heal our heart. He’s most glorified when His creation is fully alive. He wants freedom for you more than you do. However, framing healing as an act of instantaneous triumph breeds disappointment. 

“God, heal me,” I prayed thousands of times. I declared bible verses, fasted, worshipped in tears, and kneeled for three years in desperation. I was disciplined, yet disconnected. I continued to experience massive pain coupled with feelings of doubt and aloneness. “If He can, why not for me?” - a question fueled with limitless freedom was my trap of pain and confusion. Either something was wrong me with me or something was wrong with the God I believed in.

I believe God heals swiftly and exactly, I’ve seen it. Those are special monument-building moments. I also believe God heals slowly and gently, I’ve walked it. 

We grip to instantaneous healing for fear of feeling the depths. We think going around the mountain is less painful than up and over. It’s a lie - internal pain always catches up and projects outwardly. Disappointment leaks from unfilled desires of momentary fixes. 

The truth is God loves the journey. It’s messy. It’s rich, wild, and anything but simple — much like adventure. 

The walk of emotional healing is an explosion of cosmic color. It’s an exchange of resistance for flow. It’s a joining of competing feelings into works of vigor and vim. It connects joy inside of grief and grief inside of joy. 

Above all, the journey is relational - its where we learn how to do relationship. Much like a reckoning to wrestling, it’s an invitation to combat what we’ve shoved and numbed. It’s a grappling of our belief systems and their rooted origins. It’s an engagement to brawl pain from foe to friend. Here in our battle ground we find our fight. Each scuff, though a baby step from sidelines, marks hard fought wars of justice for the little kid inside still feeling powerless, out of control, and scared. 

Wrestling means skin-to-skin contact of profound molding. It feels like the spark of awe between a potter’s gentle hands and his creation. 

The process means He gets to hold us while we punch, wipe tears as we weep, and show up where pain fused our eyes to blindness. The wrestling isn’t us against Him, it’s us and Him against voices of common enemies like shame, self hatred, and self judgement. 

His thoughts towards us are good and number more than grains of sand. He speaks the language of love. Knowledge of being loved pales to the transformative substance of feeling loved. It’s in the tenderness where “shoulds”, “ought tos”, and “didn’t dos” are exchanged for radical freedom and acceptance. 

Healing is a process. Healing is a relationship. Healing is love woven in richness, depth, and power relentlessly inviting us into sacred grounds where pain and grace coexist. 

You don’t need to believe in God to find healing, though He enhances it infinity. Think of being 35 when you first put on a pair of glasses. Suffering didn’t mean blindness, yet suddenly life sharpens into vibrance. The person in the mirror becomes human. Healing not only magnifies immediate surroundings, but also casts vision forward. 

What does it come down to? 

Where pain exists so do the cravings of unconditional love and compassion. It’s a journey of unconditional love and compassion.

The process isn’t a trail of butterflies, rather the rawness of being inside the cocoon and the ache of breaking free— no longer a caterpillar, but not yet a butterfly. Somedays my win was making my bed. Other days just getting out of the bed was my scuff mark. For a full week staying in bed to intentionally sit with pain was a big win. 

Where freedom outweighs costs, worth is found. Transformation looks like radical connection to the heart, the self, God, and people. It’s here we grab hold of courage - the act of wholeheartedly participating in our lives. Authenticity echoes our steps as gusto accompanies our lifted chins and vulnerability leverages relationships into new depths. Though we’ll never “arrive”, pain sweetens, accented by comfort, love, and compassion. 

Here’s to awaking to freedom and life. Though not for the faint of heart the invitation extends to all. 

Guest Writer: Carly Caprio

Carly found a path to true transformation and emotional healing after drowning in unhealthy pain for most of her life. She’s now passionate to see others walk in the same freedom. She also enjoys extreme mountain climbing and skiing. One of her life dreams is to bike from Canada to the tip of South America.