allison elaine writes

There is a longing inside every one of us.

We try to fill it with day-to-day things—relationships, work, accomplishments, comfort, distraction. And for a time, those things satisfy. They give moments of happiness, relief, or stability.

But their satisfaction is temporary.

When the pains of this world surface—loss, disappointment, trauma, unmet expectations—the happiness fades. What once felt sustaining begins to feel thin. And we’re left with a sense of lack that circumstances alone can’t explain.

It’s often in that space that a deeper longing emerges—the longing to be healed.

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?”
— Psalm 42:5

The Tools—and Their Limits

There are many tools available to help us heal, and I genuinely believe God has given us many of them as part of the equation. Counseling. Community. Education. Medication. Boundaries. Self-awareness. Trauma-informed care.

These tools matter. They can be incredibly helpful and, at times, life-giving. I’ve seen them support real growth and relief in countless lives—including my own.

But healing is still a journey.

And while these tools can help us understand our pain, manage symptoms, and move forward, they cannot fully heal what is broken at the deepest level of our being.

They bring support—but not transformation.
Relief—but not restoration.

“I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”
— Ezekiel 36:26

This is the difference.

Tools can assist.
But only God can regenerate.

Tools can inform the mind.
But only Christ can remake the heart.

A Shelter Unlike Anything Else

What if—no matter what you’ve been through or what you’re currently facing—you could experience peace that doesn’t disappear when circumstances change?

What if joy didn’t depend on everything going well?

What if you had strength to endure suffering while feeling sheltered, protected, and deeply cared for?

This is what a daily, surrendered walk with Jesus offers.

When we turn our lives over to Christ—dying to ourselves and being regenerated through the power of the Holy Spirit—we enter a refuge unlike anything else. Hardship doesn’t vanish, but we are no longer exposed and striving. We are held.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped.”
— Psalm 28:7

This is not temporary relief.
This is transformation.

Why Do We Resist What We Know Is There?

I often wonder why so many people—especially those who know this kind of life exists—resist leaning fully into it.

Why do we keep running like hamsters on a wheel, cycling through tool after tool, hoping the next one will finally make us feel whole?

Is it pride—our desire to remain in control?
Is it pain—the fear of surrendering what has already hurt us?
Is it timing—the belief that we’ll turn to God later, when things are calmer or clearer?

Often, it’s not unbelief.
It’s self-protection.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”
— Proverbs 3:5

My Own Resistance—and God’s Grace

For me, it wasn’t readiness that led me to Jesus.

In my own flesh, I never would have surrendered my life to Him. I was stubborn. I was rebellious. I wanted control.

It took an encounter with the Holy Spirit to soften what I never would have given up on my own.

And in the kindness of God, the very traits that once resisted Him—my stubbornness, my intensity—are now things He uses for His glory. What once pushed against surrender has become an anchor in my faith. What once fueled rebellion now fuels a deep love and longing for Him.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:17

This is the power of regeneration.
This is what only God can do.

The Longing Has a Name

The longing we feel was never meant to be filled by the things of this world. They were never designed to carry that weight.

The ache for healing, safety, peace, and belonging points beyond tools, strategies, and self-effort. It points us toward something eternal—toward Someone.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28

When we stop running—when we finally surrender—we discover that the longing itself wasn’t the problem.

It was the invitation.

A Gentle Invitation

If you’ve been doing all the “right things” but still feel empty…
If the tools have helped but haven’t healed…
If you’re tired of striving and managing and holding it all together…

You don’t need another solution.
You need a Savior.

Not a one-time decision, but a daily surrender. A life continually placed in His hands.

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’”
— John 7:38

The longing you feel is not a failure.

It’s a holy sign pointing you home.