Healing is messy. Growth is uncomfortable. And when the two collide without God's direction, they don't simply stretch you— they can unravel you. About a week ago, I came across a Facebook post that knocked the wind out of me. "Real healing never needed an audience." Those six words dismantled me. Not because they condemned me, but because they carried the kind of wisdom that demands silence before it grants complete comprehension. I had to pause. I had to sit still. I had to seek God with my whole heart and ask the difficult question: "Lord... am I allowing You to transform me, or have I unknowingly turned my testimony into a performance?" Stepping away at the height of my discomfort uncovered something far greater than I expected. It exposed the real obstacle. Me. I kept postponing the inevitable because I desperately wanted to edit the version of myself that required vulnerability to be seen. But healing refuses to be airbrushed. When you've spent yea...