The Healing Power and the Journey Isn’t Where You Think It Is
If you’ve been following me for a while and reading my blogs, you’ll notice a theme:
I capture little moments that land, and something in my body whispers, “share this, explore this.”
I’ve only recently begun to recognise that subtle, gentle sensation for what it truly is the Spirit residing within me.
For years, my former Christian self, caught up in organised religion, didn’t know what to do with that sense of Spirit. To be honest, I feared it. I was taught to avoid “experiences” of the Holy Spirit because I didn’t want to be like “others,” who were judged for emotionalism or excess.
But in that fear, I denied the very power of God.
Looking back now, I ask myself:
how can one say they know God or that Christ is within them without acknowledging His Spirit? Not as some far-off mystery of the past, not as something reserved only for worship services, or when prayers are answered according to our will, but here, now, in this very breath.
Jesus Himself promised this:
“And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, to be with you foreverthe Spirit of truth… for He dwells with you and will be in you” (John 14:16–17).
Too often we relegate God’s presence to the “big” moments, miracles, providence, political events. But God is not only in the significant and the dramatic.
He is in every moment.
The deeper question becomes: are we open to Him? Do we only seek Him in worship settings, or only in the Scriptures, forgetting that the Word Himself is alive within us?
This is the quiet danger I’ve witnessed in many religious communities, even with the best of intentions. They shift our focus away from being present with God to being endlessly busy for God, always consuming more input, more teaching, more activity. But when we look at Jesus, who did He encounter? Not the religious elite. Not the ones consumed with ritual and performance.
“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10).
He sat with the tax collectors and the sinners. He met people in the middle of their ordinary lives, right where they were at the table, by the well, on the road. His presence broke into the everyday moments, not just the sanctified ones.
And those who experienced Him most deeply weren’t necessarily those striving to do more for God, but those who were present enough to notice Him.
My world and my faith have expanded in such a way that I can truly say with all my heart:
“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well” (Psalm 139:14).
When you begin to sit with the understanding of energy that it flows through everything, that it is not separate from us, you begin to see the fingerprints of God in all creation. You begin to understand what it means for Him to manifest, not as some abstract theory, but as life itself.
Take emotions, for example. We often reduce them to “human experiences,” fleeting feelings that come and go. But emotions are not just mental states, they are energy. Energy within us, energy between us. They are signals, messengers.
And in His wisdom, God designed them not just for us to feel, but for us to learn, to connect, to heal, and ultimately to encounter Him.
When I sit with this, I am filled with awe. Our emotions so often dismissed or feared are actually one of the ways we are made in His image.
They allow us to witness His power to heal, to forgive, to restore.
They draw us back into the truth that Christ is not just a historical figure to believe in, but a living presence dwelling within us.
Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 13:1, 7–8 come alive here:
“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal… Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends”
We so often hear this passage read at weddings, speaking of love as patient, kind, enduring. But I wonder if we miss the depth. For me, it has shifted from being a passage about doing love to being an invitation into being in love.
Not just knowing about God’s love in my head, but allowing myself to be fully immersed in it, to let it flow through my emotions, my body, my breath.
That is where healing is found. Not only in the places we expect church buildings, sermons, or answered prayers but in the quiet moments when the Spirit nudges us to notice. In the daily rising and falling of our emotions.
In the body that was designed as a temple to house His Spirit.
“Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).
The journey of healing isn’t where we think it is. It’s not in striving to be better, or in reaching some distant spiritual milestone. It’s in recognising that God has already made His dwelling within us.
And when we allow ourselves to sit with that reality, we begin to live not from fear or performance, but from the wholeness of His love.
