Kellie Alexander

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn about healing is that there comes a point when I have to stop looking at what everyone else did and start looking at what I am going to do with what happened to me.

That doesn’t mean what happened wasn’t significant. It doesn’t mean people didn’t hurt me. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t betrayed, disappointed, rejected, abandoned, or treated unfairly. Some of the things we’ve experienced really were wrong, and pretending otherwise isn’t healing. In fact, sometimes healing begins when we finally have the courage to tell the truth about what happened.

But there is a difference between acknowledging what someone did to you and continuing to give that person responsibility for the direction of your life.

And that distinction can be incredibly difficult to see when you’re hurting.

When blame becomes a way of staying stuck

When we’ve been deeply hurt, it can feel natural to keep returning to the circumstances surrounding the wound. We think about what someone said, what they did, what they should have done differently, or what they still haven’t done. We imagine how different our lives might be if that person had made better choices.

Sometimes we even convince ourselves that we cannot truly heal until the other person acknowledges the damage they caused.

But what happens when they never do?

What happens when they never apologize? What happens when they don’t understand your perspective, refuse to take responsibility, or continue making the same choices? What happens when the person you are waiting on has no intention of giving you the closure you believe you need?

If your ability to move forward depends on someone else finally doing the right thing, you’ve given that person tremendous power over your future.

They may have hurt you, but now you are allowing them to determine whether you heal.

And that, my friend, is a prison.

And the heartbreaking part is that the person who hurt you may not even realize they still have the keys.

Taking responsibility doesn’t mean taking the blame

I think this is one of the most important distinctions we can make when we’re talking about healing.

Taking responsibility for your life is not the same as taking responsibility for what someone else did to you.

You are not responsible for another person’s choices. You are not responsible for their dishonesty, cruelty, addiction, betrayal, rejection, anger, or inability to love you well. You don’t have to carry guilt for someone else’s behavior.

But there comes a point when you have to take responsibility for your own choices.

You have to decide what you will believe about yourself because of what happened. You have to decide what kind of relationships you will participate in going forward. You have to decide what boundaries are necessary. You have to decide whether you will continue rehearsing the same painful story or begin allowing God to write something new.

That is not blame.

That is agency.

And I believe God cares deeply about restoring that sense of agency in us.

God doesn’t ask us to remain trapped in our old thinking

Romans 12:2 tells us, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — His good, pleasing and perfect will.”

I’ve read that verse many times, but I think we can easily overlook how active that instruction really is. Renewing our minds means that we cannot simply allow our thoughts to run unchecked forever. We have to learn to recognize the beliefs we developed through our experiences and compare them with what God says is true.

If rejection taught you that you are unwanted, what does God say about your worth?

If betrayal taught you that nobody can be trusted, what does God say about fear, wisdom, boundaries, and relationships?

If disappointment convinced you that your future is over, what does Scripture say about God’s ability to redeem what has been lost?

The goal isn’t to deny our experiences. The goal is to stop allowing our experiences to become the ultimate authority over our identity and our future.

What happened matters.

But what happened doesn’t get the final word.

There are things in your life you simply cannot control

This has become one of the deepest lessons God has been teaching me: I am not responsible for the things I cannot control.

I cannot control what another person thinks about me. I cannot control whether someone understands my heart. I cannot control whether they apologize or whether they ever recognize the pain they caused. I cannot make another person change, love me differently, choose me, or see a situation the way I see it.

And spending my life trying to control those things is exhausting.

It keeps me focused on a job I was never given.

It keeps me focused on the problem instead of the Problem Solver.

It puts someone else in the driver’s seat of my thoughts.

I can only control what I do with my response. I can choose whether I continue feeding resentment. I can choose whether I establish a boundary. I can choose whether I seek wise counsel. I can choose whether I allow bitterness to become part of my identity. I can choose whether I continue believing something simply because it is familiar or whether I will allow God to challenge that belief with His truth.

That is where responsibility begins.

Not with pretending that the past didn’t happen, but with recognizing that the past no longer has to dictate every decision I make today.

Biblical healing isn’t about pretending everything is fine

Sometimes Christian women hear the word “healing” and immediately feel pressured to forgive, move on, be grateful, and stop talking about what happened.

I don’t believe that’s what biblical healing looks like.

Jesus never required people to pretend they weren’t hurting. Scripture is filled with people who cried out to God in grief, confusion, anger, fear, and disappointment. God is not intimidated by the truth.

You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.

You don’t have to call something good because you’re a Christian.

You don’t have to reconcile with everyone who has hurt you.

You don’t have to give someone access to you simply because you’ve forgiven them.

Healing can include grief. It can include anger. It can include boundaries. It can include difficult decisions and seasons of uncertainty.

But healing should eventually begin moving us toward freedom rather than keeping us permanently defined by the person or circumstance that wounded us.

Eventually, the question has to change

There is a question that can keep us trapped for years:

“Why did they do this to me?”

It is a legitimate question. Sometimes we need to wrestle with it. Sometimes we need to understand our history and acknowledge the patterns that contributed to our pain.

But eventually, another question needs to become more important:

“God, what do You want me to do with my life now?”

That question changes everything.

The first question keeps your attention on something you cannot change. The second puts your attention on something you can participate in.

You may not have chosen the loss. You may not have chosen the betrayal. You may not have chosen the rejection or disappointment. You may not have chosen the circumstances that brought you to this particular season of your life.

But you still have a life to live.

And you still have choices to make.

Your story is not finished

Taking responsibility for your life doesn’t mean pretending that your wounds don’t exist. It means refusing to let those wounds become the only thing you can see when you look at your future.

Maybe your past explains why certain things are difficult for you. Maybe it explains some of your fears, your reactions, your beliefs, or even the ways you have learned to protect yourself.

But your past does not have to become your permanent identity.

God is still capable of renewing your mind. He is still capable of restoring what has been broken. He is still capable of giving you wisdom for the next decision and strength for the next step.

You don’t have to figure out your entire future today.

You simply have to become willing to take responsibility for the part that belongs to you.

Release what you cannot control. Tell the truth about what happened. Bring your pain to God instead of burying it. Examine the beliefs you’ve carried because of your experiences. Establish the boundaries you need. Take the next faithful step.

And then take another one.

Eventually, you may look back and realize that the thing that happened to you is still part of your story, but it is no longer running your life.

That is the kind of healing I want to pursue: not pretending, not blaming, and not staying trapped, but allowing God to renew my mind while I take responsibility for the life He has placed in my hands.

A question to consider

Is there an area of your life where you are still waiting for someone else to change, apologize, understand, or take responsibility before you allow yourself to move forward?

What might happen if you stopped asking, “When are they going to change?” and began asking, “God, what is my responsibility in this, and what is the next faithful step You are asking me to take?”

That may be where your healing begins.