A New Legacy of Healing Can Start With Youনমুনা

The Pain We Inherit

Let’s be honest, none of us volunteered for this life.

You didn’t sit in some cosmic waiting room with Jesus, sip heavenly espresso, glance down at earth, and say, “Yeah, I’m good to handle relational trauma, spiraling debt, panic attacks, and existential dread. Sign me up.”

Nope.

You were born.

You cried.

You breathed in air for the first time.

You landed in a family with its own stories, patterns, and wounds, just like the rest of us.

And from that moment on, the world began shaping you.

Your childhood felt “normal” because you didn’t know anything different.

Maybe you noticed your friend’s parents seemed a little more affectionate, or less angry, or more involved, but you figured, “I guess every family’s got their thing.”

What you didn’t see was what was happening beneath the surface.

Unhealed trauma.

Chronic stress.

Marriage tension.

Parents emotionally unavailable or too controlling.

The silent wounds passed down from generation to generation, like invisible smoke in the air. You breathed it in before you had words for it.

Richard Rohr says, “What isn’t transformed is transmitted.” (1)

In other words, if we don’t heal it, we’ll pass it on.

And that “normal” you grew up with?

For many of us, it wasn’t normal. It was broken.

Beautiful in places, sure—but broken too.

And when brokenness goes unaddressed, it grows.

It mutates.

It either repeats itself in you or flips the script so hard you’re still reacting to the same thing, just from the opposite direction.

Culture offers two options when dealing with our pain:

1. Makes your pain your identity.

2. Pretends it didn’t happen.

Neither option heals you.

One keeps the wound open; the other buries it so deep it numbs you.

But here’s the truth: behind every act of hurt is a story of being hurt. And the only real way out of the cycle is through it, with Jesus.

See, what made Jesus magnetic wasn’t just his wisdom or his miracles.

Those were amazing, yes.

But what left people stunned was something deeper: his authority (Mark 1:22). Not in a “do as I say” kind of way. In a “this guy can actually change things” kind of way.

This is important because, hidden inside the word authority is the word author.

Jesus is the Author.

He doesn’t just give you advice; he rewrites your story.

Think about Peter.

He started out as Simon—impulsive, reactive, always putting his foot in his mouth. But Jesus looked at him and said, “You’re Peter. The rock.”

New name.

New identity.

New future.

Or think about Israel’s story.

Generation after generation, they blew it.

Failed tests in the wilderness. Gave in to idols.

Lost the plot.

But then Jesus comes.

And in the wilderness, where Israel gave in, he stood firm (Matthew 4). Where they broke the covenant, he fulfilled it. Where they ran, he stayed faithful.

Jesus didn’t just teach a better way. He became the better way.

And now, he invites you in.

You don’t have to stay stuck in the same cycles of fear, addiction, defensiveness, and shame.

You don’t have to be the product of your past forever. In Christ, the old story loses its grip.

Jesus is the author now.

The only question is, are you willing to let go of the pen?

Because here's the promise, “...If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come. The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NIV)

You get to choose.

Keep repeating the story you inherited.

Or surrender the script to Jesus—and let him write something new. Something whole. Something free.

Prayer

Jesus, You are the Author of my story. You see the wounds I carry, the patterns I repeat, the lies I’ve believed. Take the pen out of my hand and write something new. Heal what was broken in me. Redeem what was stolen from me. And lead me into the freedom of being fully alive in You. Amen.

Reflection

Take a few moments to reflect on and journal the following questions:

1. What is a pain from your past that you’ve continued to hang on to?
2. What is a tangible step you can take today to surrender your pain to God?

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(1) Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps