Redemption: When Healing Becomes Personal

Welcome to The Joy Prescription—where we explore healing from the inside out, the integration of faith and medicine, and the sacred journey toward wholeness.

Today’s post is a little different.

It’s personal.

Recently, I had the enormous honor and privilege of sitting down with Jiva Tholing. She listened to my story for about 30 minutes—my professional journey—and somehow distilled it down into just a few verses.

After listening, I felt a sense of healing that I didn’t actually know I still needed.

It was just so lovely… to have someone hear my journey and then reflect it back to me in a beautiful verse.

The poem is called “Redemption.” And I’m going to share it with you today. But first, I want to give you the backstory—the context for why it moved me so deeply.

My origin story (as she called it)

When I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a doctor—around second grade.

I began my medical career with the best of intentions. I wanted to help people heal. To walk with them in suffering and through challenges. To give them hope. To truly make a difference.

But early on, I realized something hard:

The system I stepped into wasn’t built for that kind of medicine.

I chose family medicine because I loved people and I wanted to hear their stories. But year after year of seeing patients every 10 to 15 minutes… the schedule was relentless.

There was pressure to produce, to move faster and faster—and it was stifling.

It didn’t leave me time to really connect with my patients… let alone have spiritual discernment in our conversations.

So I took it out on myself.

I skipped meals. I didn’t get my needs met. And all of this in the name of service.

But in doing that…

I betrayed something sacred within myself.

Holy discomfort: the ache that wouldn’t go away

There came a point when I could no longer ignore that quiet ache in my spirit.

When I look back, I call it a holy discomfort—a sign that I was out of alignment with my calling.

Yes, I was handing out prescriptions. And yes, sometimes they were helpful.

But it wasn’t truly helping people heal.

I was merely surviving—not thriving, not flourishing. I didn’t feel I was practicing medicine with my full self. I wasn’t able to show up with the compassion, the wisdom… and treat people the way I believe we deserve to be treated.

That inner conflict took a toll.

And eventually it became a turning point—when I decided: enough was enough.

I took a leap of faith and extracted myself from the conventional model. I had an opportunity to reimagine what practicing medicine could be.

And that’s when I founded Caring for the Body, PLLC in 2019.

I built a practice where I could spend time with people in an unhurried way—truly hear their journey—and incorporate faith and natural healing modalities that take time to explain.

The hinge moment: moonlight, grief, and an invitation

I want to share a moment in my history that was a hinge moment.

It was a time of deep grief—my mom was dying, I was moving out of state from my conventional practice, and there was a lot of turmoil.

My soul was grieving.

I was out on a jog on a cold winter morning. I remember the moonlight above me.

And I got this quiet sense in my spirit that God was inviting me to create a joy prescription for myself—because I did not have joy.

I was burnt out. Lacking meaning and purpose. Going through the motions.

And I received a beautiful invitation: to start walking the walk. To begin incorporating what I had learned over years and decades—about holistic healing through nutrition, physical fitness, scripture, connection… all the things I now get to incorporate into my clinical practice.

That moment became pivotal.

It opened the door to creative endeavors like this podcast… and ministry.

And it also reminded me of something I want to tell you, especially if you’re in a parallel season:

The path won’t always be easy. Entrepreneurship isn’t without challenges. And trying to heal yourself while helping others heal takes courage and fortitude.

But it is worth it.

Don’t betray your soul any longer.

It may be scary… but it will pay off not to suppress that soul cry for something more—something greater.

The poem: “Redemption” by Jiva Tholing

When she shared this poem with me, I cried.

I felt like someone had translated my soul into words.

Here it is:

Redemption
I discovered my heart only by tearing down
what once lived inside it.

By redefining medicine, I found
redemption following heartache.
Repaired my conscience after its injury.

I realized faith is the only answer.
that wholeness is the path to healing.

I learned the journey is difficult but
can be achieved with an open heart.
That an epiphany can be experienced
when I tend to my soul.

What redemption has meant to me

That poem reminds me that healing isn’t just something we offer to others.

It’s something we must seek for ourselves—as practitioners, as healers, as doctors… and as human beings.

Redemption, for me, looked like turning inward and listening to the inner voice that was crying out for a better way.

I’m deeply grateful that now I get to look through the lens of faith and incorporate that into my work as a physician.

And if you’re on any kind of parallel journey, I want you to know:

You are not alone.

The journey toward wholeness is worth it.

It may require you to tear down what is living inside your heart… but on the other side, there is redemption.

Thank you, Jiva, for this beautiful gift.

And thank you, dear listener—this community has been a very special part of my growth, development, and healing.

Until next time, may you experience deep peace, restored purpose, and joy.

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