Grace & Grounding: The Gospel of Healing
Waves Keep Coming, But I'm Not Drowning
By Shereá Denise
Blood pressure high cuz you worry too much.
And you cry every night, forgettin' that you’re so loved.
You gotta believe even when it's hard and you can't see.
He ain't never said it would be easy.
Waves keep comin', but I'm not drownin'.
Waves keep comin', but I'm not drownin'.
Why you gotta stress about it?
Havin' faith is knowin' that you'll never doubt Him.
He said He would never leave you.
Let it go and let Him work it out.
(Don't you stress about it now.)
Song – Don't Stress by Madison Ryann Ward
The last few months have been filled with excitement, improvements, and frustrating setbacks. Each day I learn something new - about my body, about my mindset, about what healing entails. Much of my time and many of my thoughts have centered around faith and external validation. While separate concepts, their interconnectedness have been hinted at since my first Grace and Grounding post.
In October and November, I really began considering two questions: What am I willing to sacrifice for my healing? Do I have more faith than I give myself credit for? Honestly, the answer to the first question changes depending on how much pain I am in. For me, there is still a form of desperation that comes with being in immense pain. As for the latter, I am almost certain that the answer is yes. I still pray regularly, find comfort in gospel music, read scripture, and do my best to be honest and trustworthy. After watching a very thought-provoking Instagram reel, I have adopted the language that my faith is brewing.
I have acknowledged that I trust God more and more each day, but there is still a part of me that wants to rush and/or control outcomes, especially with my body. While I have continued to research aspects of my health and possible treatment options, for several months I have not had the time nor felt the need to conduct constant research about my health or my symptoms. It was enough to make it through each day and deal with the physical and emotional toil that came with the difficult moments, days, and weeks.
My last true “rabbit hole of research” introduced me to the Intoleran DAO Mini, intended to support the DAO enzyme that breaks down histamine in food. Since I started taking the medication in October, I have experienced fewer gastrointestinal issues and some weight gain. Though I still have flare-ups, they are oftentimes predictable. My joint/muscle pain and bladder pain are not as impacted by the medication, so I am still sorting through how to best address those issues.
I also began intentionally considering changing some of my medical providers, recognizing that my time has come to an end with some of the members of my medical team and that they have served their purpose. In my opinion, they cannot provide me with the best care on this leg of my journey and relationship does not override care.
In sorting through my thoughts to create a plan for how to move forward, I also had to consider how I am using my experience with what appears to be a chronic illness. Though I initially thought my experience was intended to help others, I now realize that it is actually intended to help me. Some recent sermons around peace and around the process to producing our promise have been very enlightening. Sarah Jakes Roberts shook my world when she said, “Your process is not producing your promise, it’s producing the version of you that can step into your promise.”
Her words made me reevaluate my perspective on some recent experiences and on my health challenges, confirming some thoughts from the last few years about my health being used to get my attention and to break some unsustainable habits. They also helped me become more comfortable with the idea that these challenges are for a purpose and not for punishment. Removing the idea of punishment also removed the idea of fault. Do I have responsibilities not to allow my health to return to how bad it has been? Yes, but that does not mean that every setback or flare up necessarily means that I have done something wrong and that pain is the consequence.
“Give yourself permission to be upset that things don’t look the way you hoped they would. Stop forcing gratitude before grief. Stop forcing manifestation before mourning. Stop forcing strength before support.”
–@blackgirlseen
Over the last few months, I have also found myself drawn to the word steady. There is something about the concept of steadiness that I find soothing in light of all of the turbulence that has come with my health for the last (almost) five years. At some point while writing this post, it dawned on me that worry and steadiness cannot truly coexist. I was also reminded of some posts on Instagram that described the difference between anxiety and intuition. The post said that anxiety often comes as a loud and urgent question, while intuition is a whispered knowing.
“You worry too much for someone who God has never failed."
–Amy Klutinoty
My intuition often cautions me about doing too much, about being still and quiet. It is easier to follow this guidance on days when I am already not feeling well. Though there are still times when I worry that my protection and advocacy for myself will be seen as a problem. I am still learning to be honest with (myself and) others when I am not at my best AND to not feel guilty about it or to concern myself with how it may be received. This was brought home during Regina King’s interview with Angie Martinez and in a post shared by Michell C. Clark about the use of the phrase “I’m fine.”
““I’m fine” became the lie we tell so people don’t have to actually see us.
Somewhere along the way, you learned that honesty about your exhaustion was an inconvenience. That naming the weight you’re carrying would make you a burden. That admitting you’re drowning would somehow make other people uncomfortable—so you translated your truth into something smaller. Something more palatable. Something that doesn’t require anyone to show up for you in ways they’ve already proven they won’t.
But here’s what happens when you compress your reality into a two-word answer: you start believing the lie yourself. You start thinking maybe you are just tired. Maybe if you just slept more, meditated harder, practiced more gratitude, the ache would go away. You gaslight yourself into thinking the problem is your inability to cope, not the conditions that are genuinely impossible to thrive in.
The truth is, you’re not tired—you’re depleted. There’s a difference. Tiredness is solved by rest. Depletion happens when you’ve been pouring out more than you’ve been replenished for so long that you don’t even remember what “enough” feels like.
And the hardest part? Admitting that feels like complaining. Feels like ingratitude. Feels like you’re not allowed to name what’s wrong because other people have it worse, or because you should be grateful for what you have, or because you’ve been conditioned to believe your needs are negotiable.
They’re not. You’re allowed to be struggling and grateful. You’re allowed to want more and appreciate what you have. You’re allowed to need support without it meaning you’ve failed.
Stop translating your truth into something smaller just because the full version makes people uncomfortable.”
–@michellcclark
I was reminded - yet again - of my initial Grace and Grounding post. The idea of not looking like what you have been through seems anti-steadiness. Maybe because it requires us to establish a facade that gives the illusion of steadiness, the illusion of control.
In December 2025, I began exploring how control continues to surface as an area of challenge for me. In her video about 10 Daily Habits that changed her life, Dr. Nina discusses how the need to control everything is anxiety masquerading as productivity. That statement forced me to confront something that I already subconsciously knew: Being in control makes me feel safe. I recognize that control is an imitation of power (Thanks, Sarah Jakes Roberts!), but I also recognize that what bothers me most about these health challenges is the fact that I have limited control over what happens. While I can genuinely say that I still have faith and hope, it would be dishonest if I did not own the fact that I still feel extremely defeated and overwhelmed at times. These feelings are most noticeable when something happens that is outside of my perceived level of control. No matter how proactive I attempt to be, there are still difficult days. I have learned to navigate through most of the daily pain without being consumed by it, but I still struggle not to nitpick over health problems that arise throughout the course of the day or to push through the nighttime panic that sets in as I attempt to go to sleep.
I recognize that I actually have very limited control over most things happening around me, but it’s the lack of control over things happening within me or to me that are my biggest hurdle. I have read quite a bit of guidance about control and actively implemented using various practices to identify and reroute efforts to control what is beyond my control, but I still have my moments where what seems most defeating is my inability to control or predict what my body may do and why.
I have also continued to sit with how the desire for a diagnosis may be connected to control, external validation, or confirmation, and how it speaks to my personal fears about my own mortality, terminal diseases, and chronic illnesses. I try not to sit in the mortality space for too long, but I would be doing myself (and each of you) a disservice if I did not acknowledge how this almost five year battle has included ongoing thoughts about whether or not this (whatever this is) will truly be the death of me, whether it will get worse, whether it will last the rest of my life. Those thoughts can be terrifying. They can also be exhausting.
In prior posts I have written quite a bit about mindset. In the last several months, I had to shift from striving solely for a positive mindset to also striving for what Michelle Shapiro calls a healing mindset. I did not realize how often I may have been trapped in a victim mindset until seeing some of her posts on Instagram. Reading “Healing starts when I say SO, and I say it starts RIGHT NOW!” reminded me of prior messages I had seen about how everything we need we already have. My prayers changed and started including requests for help in understanding the answers that are within me. I also had to recognize what was actually beyond me and where I needed to be more specific and direct in my requests for assistance from providers.
“Your well being matters, and honoring your limits is an act of strength.” –Dr. Tamesha Rhyne
As I prepared for 2026, deciding to transfer my care after finding a different Primary Care Physician and a new OB/GYN, I also prepared for healing. I sorted through my running log of daily symptoms, identifying trends and specific questions that I wanted answers to. I resorted back to doing my own research, but this time about very specific questions to see what I could do versus what a provider would have to assist me with. While sorting through everything and organizing my thoughts, I realized that it was possible that my prior requests of providers had been too vague and my trust in them too broad. I also realized how the last four years of symptoms, tests, and setbacks proved useful in helping me hone in on what I needed help addressing or understanding.
It was not lost on me that these efforts and habits could also help me on the other side of these health issues. This notion was solidified while I watched Teyana Taylor’s interview with Angie Martinez on the In Real Life Podcast. Teyana said, “The weight I thought was punishment was preparation.” That made me wonder what I was being prepared for while also considering what I have been through that prepared me for this.
“The finish line is for the ego. The journey is for the soul.” -Anonymous
So many members of my friend group were discussing similar symptoms and health issues with me. While they varied in how extreme they were, so many of them seemed to involve histamine, inflammation, and nervous system dysregulation. Too many of us tend to “thrive” in chaos and are just learning how to truly rest. Some of these tendencies connect to the career paths we have chosen, others to our childhoods and upbringings. I think several of us felt called to the carpet while watching an Instagram reel about millennial blind spots. Truthfully, so much of what had been forced on us regarding success, laziness, and achievement came home to roost in that reel. There were things instilled in our generation that may have been taken to an extreme. We had gone from wanting to be productive members of society to tying our self-worth to how productive we are on any given day. Now several of us were trying to unlock the cheat code for the Soft Girl Era, not solely from a place of luxury and deservedness, but also from a space of experiencing health issues that seemed to demand that we learn to relax, relate, and release. Word to Whitley Gilbert!
In the midst of connecting these thoughts and digging through the ever-growing number of healing-focused accounts on social media, I found my perspective shifted yet again. The black and white post simply said: “Rest is the evidence that you trust God's timing more than your own effort. It's faith expressed through stillness.”
This took me back to my questions about my faith, but also back to the words of Dr. Anita Phillips that I shared in other posts. It added nuance to my initial thoughts about stillness, about trust of something or someone other than myself, and about control, forcing me to consider where all of the concepts intersect. I saw how my own refusal to rest was worsening my health and my mindset while also demonstrating to my GAAU (Word to Eve!) that I did not trust them aside from what I specifically asked them for despite the fact that they had continued to show up in ways that I could not fathom, imagine, or request.
Keeping my thoughts on trust, I recognized that I also needed to find some form of trust that this particular path, that this particular life, that this particular assignment is for a reason other than punishment, other than frustration.
“And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us…” –Hebrews 12:1
I wanted to believe this was about something bigger, but also appreciated all that I had learned about myself during this particular part of my journey. Much of what I learned in the last five years, I would have never considered or explored if I had not been well. My priorities, my discernment, and my boundaries have all changed - in large part - because of my health and what I physically and/or emotionally cannot commit to or handle.
“Holding it together is often a form of turning away from pain. When emotion is avoided instead of felt, the nervous system stays subtly activated, constantly bracing & scanning to keep the feeling contained.
Energy that could be used for repair, rest & regulation gets diverted into suppression.
Over time, that chronic effort to keep emotion from moving is what creates dysregulation; not because the feelings were too much, but because they were never allowed to pass through.
Your nervous system doesn't need more discipline, control, or constant self-management.
It doesn't need you to try harder to stay regulated or to perform healing in a 'perfect' way.
It needs permission to feel what's been held back, to soften the grip, to stop oracing against your owr inner experience & to turn towards the pain & emotions your body has been carrying, giving them some space to move.
When you allow that, you're not making things worse; you're letting the system complete something it's been postponing in the name of survival. The breakdowns you've been atraid of are otten che body's attempt to come back into balance, not evidence that something is wrong with you.
Sometimes the most regulating thing you can do is stop holding yourself together and let yourself be with what’s already there, trusting that your body knows how to release without being managed.”
–Dr. Sarah Campbell
My hope had been to end this series after a few posts, thinking that I would be diagnosed with something and given a treatment plan that would resolve the symptoms, the pain, and my frustration with the two. That has not happened. As I conclude this twentieth post, I am also considering concluding this series. While there have been times when the posts have helped me process everything, there have also been times when writing these posts has been yet another task for an already worn out mind and body.
I hope these posts have proven useful to those battling an ongoing issue of any sort. I hope you are reminded that you can absolutely look like what you are going through without fear of that meaning something about your worth as a person. I hope that you find people and spaces that will support each stage of your healing. Know that - whether I continue writing about Grace and Grounding - you owe both to yourself. Give yourself grace - regardless of a diagnosis or lack of one. Recognize that some aspects of the need for a diagnosis are rooted in the need for external validation, the need to name what makes you move through life differently from other people. Ground yourself as best you can - knowing that taking care of yourself (especially on the more difficult days) means more than taking medication and and running to the next doctor's appointment.
Wishing you well on your journey. Wishing you peace in the storm. Wishing you faith that is unshakable. Wishing you healing.
–Shereá Denise
God sees your heart.
I know you're in the dark, but
It's a part of life.
Things will get better.
Things will get better.
You overthink.
You're overwhelmed.
Give yourself space
And time will tell.
Things will get easier.
Things will get better.
I think you're stronger.
Things will get better.
Oh, things will get better.
God will never fail you.
Oh, things will get better.
Oh, things will get better.
Things will get better.
Song –Things Will Get Better by Cleo Sol
Read Part Nineteen: The Hard Questions
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