Healing Is a Journey: Understanding Identity in Christ Through a Trauma-Informed Lens

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NKJV)

Dear Sister,

There’s a question many of us have carried quietly. And for some of us, it didn’t even begin in our own thoughts. It came from the voices around us.

“Maybe I don’t have enough faith.”

I didn’t come to that conclusion on my own. It was spoken over me. It came from people who believed that if I was still struggling, still processing, still tender in certain places, then I must not truly believe God healed me.

If you’ve heard something similar, I want to pause here. That message carries weight, and it can wound deeply.

The Cross Was the Destination, Not the Starting Line

The Cross was not the beginning of healing. It was the destination.

What Jesus accomplished there was finished. Healing was secured. Identity was established. Restoration was made possible fully and completely.

When Scripture tells us that we are a new creation in Christ, it is not pointing to something we are striving toward. It is naming something that already is.

What we are walking out now is not unfinished work. It is the lived reality of what was already secured.

When healing is framed as something we must prove by how little we struggle, faith quietly turns into performance. That was never God’s design.

When Struggle Was Misread as Lack of Faith

I was told that if I truly believed, certain reactions wouldn’t still surface. That if I trusted God enough, certain emotions wouldn’t still appear. That if healing was real, I wouldn’t still need time.

Here is what I’ve come to understand.

Struggle does not mean healing failed. Struggle often means the wound is being taken care of.

Sometimes it feels like someone took sandpaper to a scar. Other times it feels like salt was thrown into an open, healing wound. Trust me, I know and understand. Those moments are not proof that healing didn’t happen. They are part of what many of us, at different levels of healing, face daily.

Struggle does not point to lack of faith. It often points to attention, care, and honesty finally being allowed.

Identity Is Rooted, Not Fragile

Identity in Christ is not rooted in how calm we feel or how strong we appear. It is rooted somewhere far more secure.

It is rooted in the Cross. It is rooted in Christ. It is rooted in the Word of God.

“For you are a holy people to the LORD your God, and the LORD has chosen you to be a people for Himself.” Deuteronomy 14:2 (NKJV)

Chosen does not mean unaffected by trauma. Chosen does not mean untouched by pain.

If it did, much of Scripture would not exist.

Jesus Himself experienced trauma. The Cross was not abstract suffering, it was brutal, public, and deeply personal. Job was chosen and still endured loss beyond explanation. Ruth was chosen and still walked through grief, displacement, and uncertainty.

Being chosen has never meant being spared from pain. It has always meant being held through it.

What Walking It Out Actually Looked Like for Me

What healing looked like for me may look different for you, or it may look similar. Either way, there is room for both.

For me, healing did not mean reactions never surfaced. It meant learning to pause instead of panic. It meant learning to respond instead of react.

Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” I began asking, “What’s the debris here?” “What’s being irritated?” “Holy Spirit, can You help me deal with this?”

Those moments became invitations. Not to question whether God finished the work, but to tend to what needed care.

Healing was not about shutting things down. It was about allowing God to gently show me what still needed attention.

My Moment of Reflection

There was a time when other people’s opinions made me question my own faith. Now, those same moments remind me how secure my identity actually is.

I no longer measure healing by how little I feel. I measure it by how I respond. I no longer interpret tenderness as failure. I recognize it as evidence that something once unattended is now being cared for.

The Story Behind “Rooted in Jesus”

This image was created long before this blog, long before ministry was even on my mind, and long before it ever became a Scripture journal or anything public.

It came from a very personal place.

At the time, I didn’t need another reminder to be strong or put together. What I needed was permission to be honest before God. Completely honest.

I needed to come to Him naked, not physically, but emotionally. Naked with my feelings, my questions, my hurts, my pain, my trauma, and the things I didn’t yet have language for. I needed to stop hiding parts of myself that felt too much, too messy, or too broken to bring into His presence.

What I discovered in that season is something that changed me.

My nakedness before God was not what disqualified me. It was what rooted me.

Being honest with Him, not polished, not guarded, not pretending, is what anchored me in Jesus. That posture is what continues to keep me rooted as I walk this journey of healing. Not perfection. Not progress. Presence.

This image holds that truth for me. It represents a faith that is rooted, not because everything feels resolved, but because everything is brought into the light with Him.

A Small Gift for This Community

As a way of honoring this shared journey, I’d like to give one Rooted in Jesus Sermon & Bible Study Notebook to someone in this community.

If you’d like to be entered, simply leave a comment below. You don’t need to explain yourself or share anything personal. A word, a reflection, or even a simple “I’m here” is enough.

I’ll choose one person and reach out privately.

No pressure. No expectations. Just a gift, offered freely.

You’re welcome to read, reflect, and move on quietly too.

A Quiet Truth to Carry With You

Sister, if you have been told that your struggle means you don’t believe enough, please hear this.

Your struggle does not disqualify you. Your tenderness does not negate the Cross. Your healing unfolding does not mean your faith is lacking.

You are chosen. You are held. And you are walking out what was already secured.

With love,

Minister Jane Coy

Still on the Journey Ministries