Naming Pain, Honoring Process
This is Week 3 of our “Becoming Whole” series — six weekly reflections on what it means to move toward healing, growth, and greater wholeness. Last week, in Week 2, we explored why the first step in building something new is often slowing down to grieve what’s been lost. We shared real-life stories of people who discovered that acknowledging their loss was the turning point toward restoration.
This week, we’re looking at what comes next — naming what hurts and honoring the process of healing.
The Power of Naming
There’s something profoundly human about putting words to our pain. Research in neuroscience shows that when we label what we’re feeling, it helps calm the brain. Psychiatrist Dr. Dan Siegel, a leading voice in interpersonal neurobiology, calls this “name it to tame it” — the simple act of naming an emotion reduces its power to overwhelm us.
Psychologist Dr. James Pennebaker, whose decades of research helped pioneer the field of expressive writing, echoes this: putting feelings into words improves not only emotional well-being but also physical health. It turns confusion into clarity, and weight into something we can carry with intention.
But naming pain isn’t only about brain chemistry. It’s about dignity. It’s a way of saying, “This matters. My story matters. What I’ve been through matters.”
Naming our pain is the first step, but it’s not the whole story. Once we’ve put words to what hurts, the harder work begins: learning to honor the process of healing itself.
Why the Process Matters
We often think of growth as a straight line — point A to point B. But real healing rarely works that way. It can feel more like a winding path, with moments of progress followed by times we feel like we’re circling back.
Researcher and author Brené Brown, known for her groundbreaking work on vulnerability, shame, and courage, reminds us that vulnerability is not weakness but courage. When we name our pain and allow ourselves to be present in it, we are practicing courage — giving ourselves permission to heal at our own pace, not on someone else’s timeline.
Trauma expert Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, has also shown that unacknowledged pain often resurfaces in the body. Naming our experiences is one way of integrating them so they no longer control us from beneath the surface.
This isn’t just theory—it’s something people live out every day. Here are a few ways naming pain and honoring process have looked in real life.
Stories of Honoring the Process
A young professional came to counseling overwhelmed by anxiety and burnout. On the surface, it looked like work stress. But as they slowed down, they named the deeper pain: perfectionism and the crushing weight of never feeling “enough.” By naming it, they began to set boundaries and rediscover joy in their work.
A parent grieving the loss of a child felt pressure from friends to “move on.” Naming their grief gave them permission to honor their love and loss without apology. Healing, they discovered, didn’t mean forgetting — it meant integrating that love into life in a new way.
A caregiver constantly pouring out for both aging parents and teenage children felt guilty naming their own exhaustion. But when they finally did, they realized their grief wasn’t just about fatigue — it was about lost independence. Naming that loss gave them freedom to rest and to ask for help.
Each of these stories shows that honoring the process isn’t about rushing toward resolution. It’s about creating space for honesty, patience, and compassion.
These stories remind us that healing is rarely quick or simple. So what does it look like, practically, to honor the process in our own lives?
What Honoring the Process Looks Like
Accepting that healing isn’t linear — and not judging yourself when the journey takes longer than expected.
Letting go of comparison — your pace isn’t someone else’s pace.
Creating safe spaces for honesty — whether that’s with a counselor, a trusted friend, a faith community, or in your journal.
Marking small milestones — recognizing moments when you respond differently, feel lighter, or experience a flicker of hope again.
However you begin, it’s important to remember that progress isn’t measured by speed, but by honesty and compassion along the way.
A Gentle Reminder
When we name our pain and give ourselves permission to heal at our own pace, we’re not “stuck” — we’re actively engaging in the work of restoration. This is the kind of healing that lasts, because it’s rooted in honesty, compassion, and patience.
For some, this journey is also deeply spiritual. As we face our pain, many of us find ourselves wondering where God is in the process—and discovering that He meets us there.
A Spiritual Perspective on Healing
For many of us, healing isn’t only emotional or physical — it’s also spiritual. Inviting God into the process means trusting that He meets us in our pain and leads us toward wholeness.
God as Healer
We do what we can in the process of healing — reflection, counseling, community — but we also trust God to do the deep heart work only He can do.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3).
God as Guide
Sometimes we don’t know the next step. Inviting God into the process means trusting His Spirit to gently lead us — whether into rest, reconciliation, or renewal.
“In all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (Proverbs 3:6).
God as Redeemer
When we open our wounds to God, He not only brings healing but often weaves our pain into something redemptive — shaping us with compassion, resilience, and new purpose.
“He will restore the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2:25).
Whether or not you see your healing journey through a faith lens, there are simple, practical ways to begin naming your pain and walking the process this week.
Steps You Can Take This Week
Name what hurts. Write down one area of pain, loss, or struggle you’ve been carrying. Don’t worry about polishing the words — just be honest.
Share it in a safe space. Choose one trusted person (a friend, counselor, pastor, or support group) and share what you’ve named. Speaking it aloud is often where freedom begins.
Give yourself permission to go at your pace. Remind yourself that healing isn’t linear. If today you only have energy to acknowledge your pain, that is enough.
Mark a small milestone. At the end of the week, reflect: Did you notice one lighter moment, one place where hope or clarity peeked through? Write it down.
(Optional faith step) — Invite God in. Pray something as simple as: “Lord, here is my pain. Please meet me here and guide me in the next step.”
Next Week: We’ll take a closer look at why connection changes everything. In Week 4 – We Are Not Alone, we’ll explore how community, presence, and compassion often make it possible for change to take root.
Stay Connected
If you’d like to follow along with New Hope’s work, we invite you to connect with us on social media or subscribe to our email newsletter, The Common Thread. We’ll be sharing regular updates as we continue this journey together.
💙 Join us for Taste of New Hope!
On Thursday, October 2nd from 5–8 PM at Providence Church, enjoy food from local restaurants, a silent auction, and a live auction at 7 PM—all benefiting New Hope’s Counseling Center. Proceeds make counseling more accessible for individuals and families in our community. For more information, visit: Taste of New Hope 2025 | New Hope Community Life Ministry — New Hope Community Life Ministry
🎟 Tickets: $20/person or $60/family
👉 Reserve your spot today »
By Sheila Derr, Executive Director, New Hope Community Life Ministry