It seems to me that many have been taught a version of the gospel that focuses more on our lack than on our belovedness. And when our faith roots itself in this chronic sense of lack, it breeds limiting beliefs that we carry deep into our bodies, our emotions, and our relationships.

We say “God’s will be done” while still trying to control the entire narrative. We want the outcome we’ve planned, the tidy story with the faithful ending. But I wonder… is that really trust? Or is it fear cloaked in spiritual language?

We see this kind of engagement in many cultures today monks chanting, Muslims reciting aloud, Indigenous people expressing prayer in movement. Their spiritual practices aren’t just intellectual; they’re fully embodied. And yet, in Western Christianity, we’ve often misunderstood meditation as a quiet mental process, separating the body from faith.

Healing often feels like death and it is. It's the death of the false identity, the survival self, the one who had to protect, perform, or please to feel safe. That part of us crumbles. And it feels like a loss. But it’s actually freedom.

Too often, we ask for change, but we don’t embody the ask. We don’t align our hearts, thoughts, and actions with what we say we want. But if we want to receive fully, we must be clear in our asking, intentional in our focus, and willing to step into the identity of someone who is truly open to transformation.

While Buddhism offers release through detachment and cultivated awareness, Christianity offers a relational awareness. We are not asked to become empty, but to become full, filled with Christ.

Today, we often find ourselves living in single room dwellings, isolated from extended family and community. We are busier than ever, with calendars full and minds overwhelmed. And in the midst of this rush, we have lost the art of presence not just being in the same room, but truly being with each other.

And yet, so many of us grow up in Christian circles where we are taught rules. Structure. Guidelines. Expectations. There’s often a checklist of behaviours and moral standards designed to help us be "more like Christ," but in reality, it can often do the opposite. When we fall short which we will we feel shame, guilt, or embarrassment. We hide. We perform. We try harder. But these are the very things Christ came to set us free from.

Our orphaned parts — the fearful, the ashamed, the angry, the hurting — are not barriers to our relationship with God.
They are reminders that we were never meant to navigate life without Him.

It’s only now, through healing and research and through a deepening connection with my body, spirit, and the Word that I’m beginning to understand what music was truly designed to do. Music wasn’t supposed to be ritualistic or obligatory. It was always meant to move us. To restore. To connect. To awaken.

ATP begins at the very first stage of life, at the moment of conception. The mitochondria, often referred to as the “powerhouse of the cell,” provides ATP, the essential energy required to sustain and spark new life.

Not only does this energy sustain life, but it also influences our environment and shapes the connections we have with others.

The struggles of today’s youth go beyond the pressures we knew. It is no longer about high school cliques or fitting in; it is bigger, more relentless. Social media and technology dictate their sense of self-worth, shaping their connections and identity.

This statement encapsulates a foundational principle of naturopathy: the belief in a "vital force", an unseen yet undeniable energy that sustains life and drives the healing process.

What resonates deeply with me is how this principle also affirms the existence of God, the ultimate source of life and healing.

Transformation requires faith in the process. Christ assures us that we are never alone, just as a therapist provides a safe and supportive presence for those navigating their healing.

The cardiovascular system is responsible for delivering oxygen and nutrients throughout the body, without which, we cannot survive. In the same way, Jesus’ blood brings spiritual life and renewal.

Without blood, our bodies would perish, just as without Jesus’ blood, there is no atonement or spiritual life.

Just as we inherit our mitochondria from our mothers, Christ was born also from a woman, yet He was conceived by the Holy Spirit. This profound truth highlights the Jesus was born with purpose, even within the womb. He was fully human through His birth from Mary, yet made also by the Spirit. In the same way, when we choose to have Christ within us, we become a new creation, born again, not of the flesh, but of the Spirit.

For many Christian women, this expectation can be crushing. If we follow life’s stages, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, marriage, motherhood, and eventually grandparenthood, what happens to those who don’t fit that mold?

Do they still feel whole? Do they still feel "enough"?

The world does not equip caregivers to process these emotions. There is no roadmap, no real guidance on how to navigate this journey.

And because of that, we lose ourselves. We over-serve, over-function, and become consumed by meeting the needs of others. We believe that if we do more, give more, sacrifice more, then maybe, just maybe it will be enough.

The past does not define us. We can wipe the slate clean, not through striving or self-sufficiency, but by developing awareness by sitting with discomfort, acknowledging our struggles, and leaning into self-compassion