Before you heal someone, you must ask them if they are willing to give up the things that made them sick. People cry out for change, yet cling to the very patterns that keep them unwell. They seek healing, but refuse to part with the habits, the identities, the attachments that sustain their suffering. A man drowning in a river may scream for rescue, yet grip the stone pulling him under. He does not see that his struggle is not against the current, but against himself. One cannot be freed from suffering while still clutching the very chains that bind them. You see, suffering, too, is familiar. It is a well-worn groove in the mind, a rhythm one has danced to for years. And though it may be painful, it is known. And the known, no matter how unbearable, is often preferred over the terrifying vastness of the unknown. But healing is not an addition. It is a subtraction. It is not something you gain, but something you release. To step into wellness, you must leave behind the version of yourself that was comfortable in sickness. So before you ask for healing, ask yourself this. Am I ready to let go of who I was, to become who I am meant to be?
The Illusion of Wanting to Be Healed
Before a soul can be healed, it must first decide if it truly wishes to be free. Many cry out for deliverance but still clutch tightly the very pain that poisons them. They say they want peace, yet they cradle bitterness. They say they want change, yet they build altars to their old ways.
It is like a man drowning in a river who cries for rescue, yet grips the very stone that drags him beneath the surface. He believes the current is his enemy, but it is his own grasp that holds him captive. So it is with us. Our struggle is rarely against the world, but against our own unwillingness to let go.
Jesus asked a man at Bethesda, “Will you be made whole?” (John 5:6, LSV). It was not a rhetorical question. It was an invitation. Because before healing can come, there must be a willingness to surrender the identity formed by suffering.
The Familiarity of Suffering
Suffering, in its strange way, becomes familiar. It is a rhythm the soul learns to dance to — painful, yes, but predictable. Like a worn path trodden daily, the mind returns to it because it knows the way. The unknown, even when it promises freedom, feels like a threat to what little stability remains.
The Apostle Paul wrote, “Put off the old man, which is corrupt through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind” (Ephesians 4:22–23, LSV). Healing requires precisely this, a death to what is familiar. To be made new means releasing the version of yourself that found comfort in your chains.
Healing Is Subtraction, Not Addition
Healing is not something we gain; it is something we release. The world teaches that wellness is about accumulation, more knowledge, more effort, more doing. But the kingdom of God teaches the opposite. “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23, LSV).
To follow Christ is to unlearn the reflexes of the old life. It is to lay down the weapons forged in fear, the walls built in pride, and the habits that once felt like protection but now serve as prisons. Healing is not a reward, it is a resurrection. And resurrection always requires a burial first.
The Price of Becoming Whole
You cannot be freed from suffering while still holding on to the chains that bind you. You cannot walk in light while guarding the shadows that once gave you comfort. To be healed is to risk everything familiar. It is to trade what you know for what God knows about you , a truth far greater than your pain.
Healing demands surrender. It asks you to look into the mirror and say, “I am willing to lose who I was, so I can become who I am meant to be.” And in that surrender, the Spirit of God does His quiet, eternal work reshaping, renewing, and redeeming every broken piece into something beautiful, whole, and free.
Final Reflection
So before you ask for healing, pause. Ask yourself: Am I ready to let go of who I was? Because the moment you release what was never meant to stay, Heaven rushes in to fill the space you once called pain.