If you’ve been following the blog for a while, you know I’ve shared about the healing journey I’ve been on with Jesus—not one of physical healing, but healing of the heart, which is so precious to God.

A.W. Tozer once wrote, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” This journey has been extensive, no doubt, and it continues to challenge my faith. I want to share more of it here because I believe vulnerability leads to breakthrough, and testimony builds faith.

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? I the Lord search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds.” — Jeremiah 17:9–10

This verse has been a sobering reminder of the condition of my heart and my deep need for Jesus.

Last summer, around my birthday, the Lord gave me a word: “Twenty-three will be the year of Jubilee.” At the time, I had only heard the word jubilee in worship songs and wasn’t familiar with its biblical significance.

For a quick overview, the Year of Jubilee is found in Leviticus 25. As God was establishing His covenant laws and setting Israel apart from the surrounding nations, He instructed them to count seven cycles of seven years (49 years). Then, in the fiftieth year, a trumpet would sound on the Day of Atonement, announcing the Year of Jubilee.

During this year, debts were forgiven, land was returned to its original owners, slaves were set free, the land was given rest, and families were restored to their inheritance. It was a remarkable event—something most people would only experience once or twice in their lifetime.

God established the Jubilee to remind Israel that everything ultimately belongs to Him, to prevent generational poverty, and to display His justice and mercy. More importantly, Jubilee was a prophetic picture pointing to Jesus and the freedom we experience through Him today.

Because of the cross, we have been set free from slavery to sin, our debt has been canceled, and our inheritance has been restored. One of the clearest examples of this is found when Jesus reads from Isaiah 61 and declares that the Scripture is fulfilled in Him. Jesus is the fulfillment of Jubilee.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight.”

As sons and daughters of God, we now have access to that inheritance. We get to experience real freedom, restoration, healing, and breakthrough through Him.

One of the most significant lessons I’ve learned over the last eight months is that I have to participate in my own healing. I have to receive and believe God’s heart for me.

It’s one thing to say, “Yes, I want freedom.” It’s another thing entirely to surrender to the process that freedom requires.

Healing is not linear. It takes time because our hearts are delicate. I’ve often thought of it like this: the Father is a skilled surgeon carefully operating on the deepest places of our hearts.

When I first received this word about Jubilee, I had no idea what I was in for. Now, I find myself humbled by the brokenness revealed within me. Yet in the midst of it, I have encountered the compassion and patience of a loving Father. He never accuses but draws me in.

He is not surprised by my wounds. He is not reacting to my brokenness. He was proactive from the beginning, painting the picture of Jubilee long before I ever understood my need for it. Through Jesus, He walks with us through every step of the process.

Throughout Scripture, we see people journeying through seasons of preparation before receiving God’s promises. The process matters because it teaches us how to steward what God wants to give us.

I’ve learned that dependency is often the fruit of surrender.

The same patterns tend to repeat themselves until we fully yield them to God. Facing fears, insecurities, and unhealthy thought patterns is incredibly vulnerable. Sometimes it feels easier to hide from the truth than to confront it. It’s easier to remain in familiar cycles than to put in the effort required to walk in genuine freedom.

Choosing trust. Choosing love. Choosing surrender.

Because if we’re honest, our flesh often defaults to fear, self-protection, and chaos.

“For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” — 2 Timothy 1:7

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.” — 1 John 4:18

Nothing about this process has been easy. There have been plenty of tears, journal entries, difficult conversations, and moments of stretching and growth. I’ve struggled to not walk in self-condemnation because of pride in my own heart, thinking I should know better by now. I have a Father who is rich in mercy and grace, and I have to receive that for myself.

But it has all been worth it because Jesus is worthy of every part of my heart—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

He is making me look more like Him while simultaneously seeing me through the lens of His Son. That truth gives me hope.

He’s not finished with me yet.

And honestly, who knows what year twenty-four will hold?

What I do know is that He is compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. He has been faithful in every season before, and I trust He will be faithful in the seasons still to come. He is the God of all hope.

With love, hav