To Help You Heal

Pain changes us. But it doesn't have to change our hearts.
That's the truth I want to sit with today — because I think a lot of us have experienced a moment where something hurt us deeply and without even realizing it, we started to shut down. The walls went up. We became more guarded. Less open. And we told ourselves it was necessary.
And maybe it was, for a season.
But here's what I've learned: when we put up a wall to keep the pain out, it keeps everything out. It keeps people out. It keeps love out. And it keeps God out too. I know that because I've lived it.
This week I want us to step into the Easter story differently. Not from the end — not with the resurrection already in view — but scene by scene, moment by moment. Because when we read Jesus's story knowing how it ends, we can unintentionally bypass the very real pain he felt as a human being.
He was betrayed by someone close to him. Denied by one of his closest friends. Abandoned by the very people who said they would stay. Publicly mocked and crucified.
From a human perspective, those are exactly the moments where we would expect anger. Bitterness. A desire for retaliation.
Instead he said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
He didn't deny what was happening. He didn't pretend it didn't hurt. But he didn't let the pain turn into hardness either.
Love stayed.
And I think that's the invitation for us too.
Now — I want to be clear about something, because this comes up every time I talk about forgiveness. Forgiveness and boundaries are two very different things and we have to walk two very different paths with them. If you've experienced abuse or you're in a relationship that is consistently harmful, I am not asking you to keep your heart open to that person. That's not what this is about.
This is about what happens inside of us. The internal choice. Choosing not to become bitter. Releasing the offense we're holding onto. Allowing God to heal what has hurt us and keeping our hearts open to Him — even when it's His own people who caused the pain.
Because here's the truth: if love doesn't stay, the pain stays. And pain turns into bitterness. And bitterness quietly shapes who we become — until we're more defined by what hurt us than by the healing God offered us.
You can have strong boundaries and still have a soft heart.
I've walked some very painful roads. The aftermath of the Amish schoolhouse shooting. Feeling misjudged and misunderstood. Having the whole world looking on. Maybe you can find yourself somewhere in Jesus's story too — betrayed, denied, abandoned, or publicly criticized. He knows what that feels like. He sees your pain. And because he walked through pain far greater than anything I'll ever know, he has the ability to meet us right there in ours.
He came as a healer. And that's what he wants to do in those places where we know pain — bring healing so that love can stay and flow through us.
We don't have to let the things that hurt us harden us. The cross shows us that. Love doesn't disappear in the midst of suffering. It can stay. And that is the very place where healing begins.
Questions to sit with this week:
Are there places you've shut down in order to protect yourself?
Has pain made you more guarded than you want to be?
What would it look like to invite God into those spaces instead?
Join me next week for the final episode in our Easter series — we're going to talk about the truth that resurrection is a pattern. Not just a one-time event, but something we can see over and over again in our own lives.

 
Have you ever noticed that fear gets louder at night?
During the day we stay busy — moving from one task to the next, staying distracted. But at night, when the house gets quiet and the distractions fade, our thoughts get louder. The what ifs start to surface. What if something goes wrong? What if this never changes? What if I can't handle what's ahead?
I think the disciples knew that feeling too.
After Jesus died on the cross, everything went silent. There were no miracles. No signs of hope. Just that heavy, uncertain space between what had happened and whatever was coming next. And unlike us, they couldn't see ahead to Sunday. They were just living in the rawness of it.
That's the space I want to talk about today — because most of us have been there. And I believe there's a truth we can pull from the Easter story that changes everything:
Silence is not the same as absence.
God was working in that space for the disciples, and he's working in that space in our lives too. But fear thrives in uncertainty. When we don't have answers, our minds are really good at filling in the gaps — and if you're anything like me, your brain goes straight to worst case scenarios.
Here's what I've found to be true though: when we turn toward God, the situation may not change immediately, but something inside us does.
There are things we can reach for in those quiet, fearful spaces that make all the difference:
Prayer — just talking to God honestly about what we're afraid of
Scripture — reminding our hearts of what is true
Worship — letting someone else's words become our own
The silence might still be there. But we're no longer alone in it.
One of my favorite places to turn is the Psalms. David doesn't hold anything back — whatever he's feeling, he brings it to God. In Psalm 4, written during one of the most desperate seasons of his life, he closes with this: "In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone, God, make me dwell in safety."
That's not the words of someone who has all the answers. That's someone who has learned to trust God in the silence.
So if fear tends to show up for you at night — or really any time the uncertainty gets loud — I want to encourage you to pause, take a breath, and speak honestly to God. Maybe open up to Psalm 4. Read the context. Build a practice that helps you turn toward him instead of spiraling inward.
The disciples thought the silence meant everything was over. But resurrection was already on the way.
If you're in a quiet season where God feels distant, I hope you'll hold onto this:
Silence doesn't mean absence. God is still present, even in the dark.
Questions to sit with this week:
When does fear tend to show up most for you?
What thoughts fill that silent space in your mind?
What could change if you invited God into those moments?
Join me next week as we continue our Easter series and explore one more truth from the story that changes everything.

In this week’s episode of To Help You Heal, we continue our Easter series by exploring a powerful truth: surrender is not the same thing as defeat.
 
Last week we talked about the reminder that our circumstances do not tell the whole story. Just as the story of Easter looked very different on Friday than it did on Sunday, our lives can hold chapters that feel final but are not the end of the story.
 
This week we turn our attention to one of the most honest and human moments in Jesus’ journey—the Garden of Gethsemane. Knowing what was coming, Jesus prayed with deep honesty: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup be taken from me.” In that moment we see that honesty with God is not a lack of faith. Jesus did not pretend the suffering wasn’t real, and he didn’t hide his fear. He brought the truth of what he was feeling directly to God.
 
But his prayer didn’t end there.
 
Jesus continued, “Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
 
This moment shows us what surrender truly looks like. Surrender is not giving up, denying pain, or pretending that something doesn’t hurt. Instead, surrender is trusting God with the outcome when we cannot control what happens next.
 
In our own lives, we often find ourselves praying similar prayers—asking God to change a diagnosis, repair a relationship, shift a circumstance, or answer a prayer in the way we hope. Yet sometimes the answer doesn’t come the way we expected. In those moments, we face a choice: will we continue trying to control the outcome, or will we surrender it to God?
 
Culturally, surrender often feels like losing. But the story of Gethsemane reveals something very different. Jesus surrendered not because he stopped caring and not because the pain disappeared, but because he trusted God beyond what he could see in that moment.
 
Surrender is not defeat. It is alignment with God and trust that He is still working—even in situations that look difficult or confusing to us.
 
Practically, surrender can look like:
 
Releasing the need to control every outcome
Continuing to move forward even when we lack clarity
Allowing God to shape the story instead of forcing our own ending
 
 
Surrender does not mean we stop praying or hoping. It simply means we recognize that we are not carrying the weight of the situation alone.
 
As you reflect on this episode, consider these questions:
 
Where in your life might you be resisting surrender?
What outcome are you trying to control?
What might it look like to trust God with it instead?
 
 
If you find yourself in that tension between wanting something different and learning to surrender, you’re not alone. Jesus stood in that same place in the garden. He understands the weight of that moment, and he meets us there.
 
Next week in our Easter series, we’ll explore another powerful truth from the story: silence does not mean absence.

This week on To Help You Heal, we begin a new series leading up to Easter by exploring one powerful truth: your circumstance isn’t the whole story.
 
Easter reminds us that what looks final often isn’t. Good Friday was real. The cross was brutal. It was public, humiliating, devastating. From every human perspective, it appeared finished. If the story had ended there, it would have looked like defeat.
 
But it didn’t.
 
At the same time, we don’t rush past Friday to get to Sunday. We don’t minimize the suffering. We don’t pretend the pain didn’t happen. The cross mattered. The grief was real. The silence between Friday and Sunday was heavy.
 
And that space — that silence — is where many of us live.
 
Maybe you’re in a season that feels final.
A diagnosis.
A betrayal.
A broken relationship.
Burnout.
A loss you didn’t see coming.
 
It’s easy in those moments to let a circumstance become your identity. To assume this chapter is the entire book. To quietly believe, “This is just how it is now.”
 
But resurrection teaches us something deeper: just because we can’t see movement doesn’t mean nothing is happening. Between Friday and Sunday, God was still at work — even when no one could see it.
 
The hope of Easter isn’t instant change. It’s the assurance that God is still writing the story.
 
There may not be overnight transformation. There’s no two-day shipping on redemption. But what feels permanent may not be. What looks like loss may still carry the possibility of restoration.
 
This week’s invitation is gentle but powerful:
 
Where have you labeled something as over?
What circumstance have you allowed to define you?
What would shift if you believed this isn’t the final word?
Where might God still be working, even in the silence?
 
 
We won’t skip the hard parts. We won’t deny the reality of Friday. But we also won’t stop the story too soon.
 
If you’re in a Friday season, the silence does not mean it’s finished.
 
Your circumstance is real.
But it is not the whole story.
 
Join us next week as we continue this Easter series and talk about why surrender is not the same thing as defeat.

In this final episode of our series on fun, we explore what happens when joy becomes intentional—not occasional. The goal was never just to add something light to your schedule. It was to help you remember something about yourself.
 
Fun isn’t extra. It’s fuel.
 
When joy is present consistently, you become less reactive. You recover from stress faster. You build emotional flexibility and resilience. It doesn’t deny that life is hard—it strengthens you for the hard things. When fun is part of your life, difficult moments don’t feel permanent. You remember there’s something on the other side.
 
This week invites an identity shift: what if fun isn’t a place you visit, but something you’re allowed to be? Many of us default to being serious, responsible, or driven. But you don’t have to lose your focus or determination to be light. Joy can live alongside your strength.
 
We also talk about the trap of turning fun into another self-improvement project—scheduling it so tightly that it feels like pressure. Instead, think small and sustainable. Micro-joy. Ten to twenty minutes if you can. Even ten to twenty seconds counts.
 
Fun doesn’t have to be impressive, productive, or shared online. It can be simple, imperfect, even a little ridiculous. What matters is consistency. Small moments of joy create a ripple effect in how you show up—as a parent, partner, friend, or leader.
 
You don’t have to wait for life to calm down. You don’t have to earn joy. Creating space for fun isn’t escaping your life—it’s living more fully inside it.

In this week’s episode of To Help You Heal, we continue our series on fun by moving beyond the question of why fun faded and into something more personal:
What actually feels fun to you now?
 
Because here’s the truth—fun can’t be forced.
 
We can schedule time on the calendar. We can tell ourselves we’re going to “have fun.” But we can’t pressure ourselves into joy. And sometimes, before we can add fun back into our lives, we have to rediscover what it even looks like in this season.
 
What was fun at 16 or 22 or even five years ago, might not feel the same anymore. Identity shifts. Seasons change. Responsibilities evolve. And so does fun.
 
This episode explores:
 
Why trying to “go back” to old versions of fun can create frustration
How identity shifts (motherhood, marriage, career, loss, trauma) reshape what feels enjoyable
Why curiosity—not pressure—is the starting point
How fun begins with noticing, not performing
The difference between scheduling joy and forcing it
 
 
Instead of asking, What should I do for fun?
This episode invites you to ask: What am I curious about?
 
Marie shares practical ways to rediscover fun through three simple categories:
 
1. Quiet Fun
Reading, walking without headphones, rearranging a room, baking just because you feel like it.
 
2. Expressive Fun
Painting, writing, dancing in your kitchen, trying a new recipe, creating something without an outcome attached.
 
3. Relational Fun
Coffee with a friend, a game night, sending a voice memo, playing pickleball with your kids—laughing without keeping score.
 
If fun feels awkward right now, that’s okay. It’s not immaturity. It’s relearning. You’re rebuilding a muscle.
 
 
✨ The 20-Minute Experiment
This week’s invitation is simple:
Choose one thing you’re curious about.
Do it for 20 minutes.
No productivity.
No posting.
No outcome required.
Afterward, ask yourself:
Did I feel lighter?
Did time move differently?
Would I do that again?
If yes—add it to your fun list.
If not—try something else.
 
This isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about remembering there’s already fun inside of you—beneath the responsibilities.
Next week, we’ll wrap up this series by exploring how fun actually changes your brain, builds resilience, and becomes sustainable—not seasonal.
 
Thanks for spending these 10 minutes here.
Come back next Tuesday for another episode of To Help You Heal.

In this week’s episode of To Help You Heal, we continue our series on fun by asking an important and often overlooked question: Why did fun disappear in the first place?
 
Most of us don’t intentionally decide to stop having fun. It doesn’t leave suddenly or dramatically. Instead, it gets crowded out—by responsibility, grief, caregiving, stress, survival seasons, or the quiet pressure to be serious and “hold it all together.”
 
In this episode, we explore the barriers that slowly push fun to the margins of our lives and why understanding those barriers matters if we want to bring fun back in a sustainable way.
 
We talk about:
 
Why fun often feels optional, irresponsible, or out of reach
How survival mode makes joy feel unnecessary or frustrating
The guilt many of us feel about enjoying ourselves when others are struggling
The myth that maturity requires seriousness
How disappointment or loss can make fun feel risky or unsafe
Why these patterns aren’t failures—but adaptations that once protected us
 
 
Fun doesn’t disappear because something is wrong with you. It fades because your nervous system learned how to survive. And while those adaptations were necessary at one time, they can quietly begin to limit us later on.
 
This episode also explores how laughter and smiling are powerful tools for healing—helping reduce stress, calm the nervous system, boost resilience, and reconnect us with ourselves. Fun isn’t frivolous. It’s restorative.
 
Rather than forcing joy or adding another thing to your to-do list, this episode invites you into awareness—a gentle noticing of when and why fun became complicated.
 
Reflection questions for this week:
 
When did fun start to feel complicated for you?
What season of life taught you that you had to be serious to survive?
Is there a part of you that feels it’s risky to enjoy things now?
 
 
You don’t need to fix anything. You don’t need to force joy.
This week is simply about noticing—with curiosity and compassion.
 
Next week, we’ll go deeper and begin rediscovering what actually feels fun to you now—not who you used to be, but who you are today.
 
Thanks for spending these ten minutes with me.
Come back next Tuesday for another episode of To Help You Heal.

We’re kicking off a brand-new series, and for the next four weeks, we’re talking about something that often gets pushed to the bottom of the list as adults: fun.
 
In this episode, we start with an important question—why does fun matter so much, especially when life feels full, heavy, or serious? Many of us treat fun like a reward we earn after everything else is done. But healing isn’t only about working through hard things. It’s also about reconnecting with what makes us feel alive.
 
Fun isn’t irresponsible.
It isn’t frivolous.
And it isn’t something you have to earn.
 
Fun plays a powerful role in healing because it helps regulate our nervous system, restore creativity, build emotional resilience, and reconnect us to ourselves and others. Laughter lowers stress. Play creates space to breathe. Enjoyment reminds us who we are beneath all the responsibility.
 
In this episode, we talk about:
 
Why fun often fades during seasons of stress, grief, caregiving, or survival
How adapting to hard seasons can quietly become our new normal
The emotional and physical cost of living without joy or play
Why fun is a form of regulation—not indulgence
How fun doesn’t have to be loud, social, expensive, or productive
We also explore the quiet signals that fun might be missing—like feeling disconnected from yourself, moving through life on obligation, or thinking, “I just don’t feel like myself anymore.”
Fun can show up in simple ways: creativity, movement, curiosity, playfulness, rest, or moments that help you lose track of time and feel more like yourself again.
This episode isn’t about forcing joy or adding more to your plate. It’s about awareness—gently noticing what’s missing and making room for what brings life back in.
 
Reflection questions to sit with this week:
When was the last time something felt light or genuinely enjoyable?
What did you used to enjoy before life felt heavy?
Where might fun be quietly asking to come back into your life?
Approach these questions with curiosity, not pressure.
 
Come back next week as we continue this conversation and explore how to make space for fun without adding more to your life—just more alive.
Ten minutes.
Every Tuesday.
To Help You Heal.

In this final episode of our series on starting the new year more gently, we bring everything together—not to create more plans or pressure, but to talk about how we live differently because of what we’ve already noticed.
 
Over the past few weeks, we’ve slowed down. We’ve paid attention to what doesn’t fit anymore. We’ve listened to the questions and ideas that keep coming back. And now the invitation is simple—but powerful:
 
What would it look like to carry this posture forward into the year ahead?
 
This episode isn’t about goal-setting or taking action. It’s about integration—allowing awareness to shape how we live, how we choose, and how we care for ourselves moving forward.
 
I share honestly from my own experience—what it looks like to resist the pressure to have everything figured out, to give myself permission to stay in discovery, and to make small, quiet changes that actually create consistency and vitality over time.
 
We talk about:
 
Why awareness changes us, even before we act
How small, gentle shifts lead to longevity
Letting unresolved things stay unresolved without rushing clarity
Creating space without immediately filling it again
Choosing how we want to feel and letting that guide our decisions
 
 
This episode is a reminder that you don’t owe anyone an explanation for what’s changed inside you. You can let what you’ve noticed quietly influence where you say yes, where you pause, and where you protect your energy.
 
Reflection questions to carry with you:
✨ What do you know now that you didn’t know before?
✨ Where do you feel quieter, clearer, or more honest with yourself?
✨ What would it look like to live from that place—without rushing it?
 
You don’t need everything resolved.
You just need to stay connected to what you’ve already discovered.
 
Thank you for walking through this series with me. I hope it’s given you something meaningful to carry into the year ahead—something gentle, sustainable, and life-giving.
 
Come back next Tuesday for our next conversation.

In week three of our New Year series on To Help You Heal, we’re talking about the thoughts, questions, and nudges that keep resurfacing—and why they matter more than we often realize.
 
Last week, we explored letting go of what no longer fits. This week builds on that by turning our attention to what remains: the ideas you keep circling back to, the questions that won’t quite leave you alone, the thoughts you’re quick to dismiss as impractical, unrealistic, poorly timed, or even selfish.
 
In this episode, I invite you to see those recurring thoughts differently.
Repetition isn’t random—and it doesn’t mean you’re stuck.
It’s often a sign of growth.
 
We talk about:
 
Why recurring thoughts and questions deserve curiosity, not pressure
How our brains try to protect us from change by talking us out of new ideas
Why January’s quieter pace can bring these nudges back to the surface
How to explore what keeps coming up without needing to act on it
 
 
I share a personal story about listening to a persistent nudge that once felt impractical and ill-timed—and how giving myself space to explore it changed everything.
 
This week is not about making decisions.
It’s about noticing.
 
You’ll hear practical ways to engage these questions gently, including:
 
Why low-level activities (like walking, showering, or folding laundry) can help clarity emerge
How curiosity opens doors that pressure shuts down
Simple breathing techniques to calm anxiety when exploration feels uncomfortable
 
 
Reflection questions for the week:
✨ What keeps resurfacing for you lately?
✨ When does it tend to show up?
✨ What might it be trying to tell you?
✨ What happens if you stop arguing with it and simply listen?
 
Recurring thoughts don’t demand immediate action.
They ask for honesty and attention.
 
Join me next week as we wrap up this series by talking about orientation before movement—learning where you’re headed before deciding how to get there.