Saturday Silence: Trusting Jesus in the Waiting Between Hurt and Healing

In my last blog post, "Can Christians Benefit from Therapy," I explored a question that many Christians quietly wrestle with: Can followers of Jesus really benefit from therapy? My hope was to gently dismantle the misconception that faith and counseling are mutually exclusive. We walked through how therapy—when rooted in truth and used as a tool rather than a replacement for God—can actually serve as a powerful means of transforming grace. Rather than pulling us away from our dependence on Christ, it can lead us into deeper self-awareness, healing, and intimacy with Him. When guided by biblical wisdom and paired with prayerful discernment, therapy can help believers confront strongholds, process pain, and ultimately grow in Christlikeness. It’s not a substitute for the Holy Spirit’s work—but it can be a space where His work is invited, witnessed, and embraced.

I still wholeheartedly believe that’s true. But what I didn’t dive into in that post is something I’ve seen come up time and time again—especially with Christians who are already in faith-based therapy. They’ve taken the brave first step. They’ve jumped the initial hurdle of wondering whether Christian therapy is even compatible with their faith, and they’ve come to see it as a meaningful, Christ-centered tool for healing.

But then, as the weeks go on—after yet another session spent crying over old wounds, voicing deep frustrations, or sitting with painful memories—a new, quieter question starts to emerge: Is this actually helping?

That’s the tension I want to speak into today.

This post is for the moments when you're doing all the right things—you’re showing up to Christian therapy, you're being honest, you're praying through the process—and yet, it still feels like nothing is changing. It’s for the weeks when you leave your session wondering if anything is actually shifting, or if you’re just picking at scabs that never seem to heal. In the sections that follow, we’re going to unpack why this feeling is so common, what it might be revealing, and most importantly, how God is very likely still be working—quietly, gently, and powerfully—even when it feels like nothing is happening at all. Because sometimes, the silence is where the most sacred work begins.

Why It May Feel Like Therapy Isn’t Working

1. You’re in the messy middle.

Many of you may have heard the phrase: “Recovery isn’t linear.” And honestly—it couldn’t be more true. Progress in therapy is rarely a straight upward climb. Most people begin therapy at a point of deep struggle, often when life feels unmanageable and they're already stretched beyond their limit. As they begin opening up, gaining insight, and learning new tools, a sense of hope starts to return. Things slowly begin to feel lighter. But then—almost inevitably—they hit a snag.

That snag is what I like to call the in-between space—you’re no longer where you started, but you’re also not where you hoped you’d be. It’s a place of tension and uncertainty that can feel deeply discouraging and often people stop here missing the fruit that is about to bud. Here’s the truth about the in-between space: this space isn't a failure. It’s not a sign that therapy isn’t working. It’s actually a normal, necessary, part of the healing process. And it is often where the real work begins—beneath the surface, where God is forming something new even when you can’t yet see it.

2. You’re touching core wounds.

Another reason you might find yourself wondering, “Is this even doing anything?” is because healing from deep wounds often unfolds slowly. The truth is, the deeper the hurt, the more tender and layered the unraveling tends to be. If your sessions feel consistently heavy or even repetitive, it doesn’t mean you’re stuck—it likely means you’re working through long-held beliefs, past trauma, or patterns that have been part of your story for a long time. And those things don’t change overnight. They require safety, consistency, and time—often more time than we’d like—to gently and faithfully untangle.

3. The fruit is growing underground.

Much like a seed buried deep in the soil, real change often begins in the unseen places. When you plant a flower, you don’t expect it to bloom the next day—you water, wait, and trust that growth is happening even when nothing seems to be breaking through the surface. The same is true in the process of healing. Just because you don’t see obvious transformation yet doesn’t mean that God isn’t tenderly at work in your heart.

In fact, some of the most important shifts—like emotional awareness, softened defenses, new patterns of thinking, and Spirit-led conviction—often happen quietly, underground, unseen. These changes are in the inner roots of your soul forming strength and stability before anything blossoms above ground. This invisible progress deeply matters. And while it is not as satisfying as quick results, this is often the most lasting kind of growth—this growth is the kind that can sustain you for the long haul and not just fix your symptoms for a moment. This is the kind of change that leads to lasting transformation—not just temporary relief. And in this tender, often uncertain space, we’re invited to do what children of God are called to do: trust His faithfulness. Even when the process feels slow or messy, we can cling to the promise that He who began a good work in us will bring it to completion (Phil. 1:6).

So if you find yourself in the middle—where things feel more like chaos than completion—take heart. God is not absent in the waiting. His work is still good. His hand is still steady. And even when you can’t yet see the fruit, you can trust that He is fully in control, gently shaping you from the inside out.

4. You’re avoiding something—maybe without realizing it.

We all have defense mechanisms—those internal strategies we’ve picked up over time (usually starting when we were little), to protect ourselves from pain. Sometimes they show up as overthinking, humor, distraction, or even spiritualizing our emotions. And often, without even realizing it, we find ourselves dancing around the very thing that needs to be faced. Not because we’re weak or unwilling, but because certain wounds carry so much underlying fear, shame, or uncertainty that we just can't access them yet: they are too well protected by our defenses. 

When this happens, therapy can start to feel “stuck.” You may keep circling the same topics or avoiding certain conversations altogether. But this isn’t a sign that you’re failing—it’s actually better seen as a clue. A gentle invitation. The avoidance may be revealing just how tender and important that area is—and how much care and safety it will take to walk through it. Sometimes the greatest breakthroughs begin with simply recognizing what we’ve been afraid to face and trusting that God (and our therapist) will meet us there with grace, not condemnation.

5. Outside factors are weighing heavily.

Finally, we can’t ignore the truth that therapy, as powerful as it is, is still just a tool. It’s not a catch-all or a fix-all. We are whole beings—body, mind, and spirit—and each part of us affects the others in profound ways. Sometimes what feels like emotional or therapeutic “stuckness” is actually rooted in something physical or circumstantial.

Chronic stress, lack of sleep, spiritual dryness, or underlying health issues—such as high levels of cortisol, hormone disruptions, low iron, or nutritional deficiencies—can all significantly impact your ability to feel emotionally well. You might be showing up and doing the work in therapy, but if your body is exhausted or your soul feels disconnected from God, it can be hard to experience noticeable progress.

That doesn’t mean therapy isn’t working—it just means your whole self might need additional support. Healing is not compartmentalized. God created us as integrated beings, and caring for your physical health, nurturing your spiritual life, and inviting safe, therapeutic connection are all part of the same redemptive process. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back and ask, What else might my heart, mind, or body need right now to heal well? 

So What Do We Do in the In-Between?

So regardless of why you might find yourself in this in-between space—whether it’s the slow pace of untangling deep wounds, or the silence that feels like God is distant, or the physical and emotional weight that makes progress feel impossible—you’re truly not alone. If you’ve found yourself asking, “Is this even working?” know that question doesn’t disqualify your healing. It reveals your deep longing for wholeness. And that longing is beautiful and sacred.

This space—where things feel unclear, uncertain, or unfinished—isn’t wasted. God is still present in it. He’s not frustrated with your pace. He’s not withholding healing as punishment. He is gently and patiently forming something eternal in you, even when it feels like nothing is happening.

So take a moment relax and breathe. Stay rooted. Don’t rush the process. The in-between, like the cross on Good Friday, is not the end of the story—it’s often where the deepest, most beautiful parts of your story begin to unfold. 

When Silence Feels Like Abandonment: Remember the Easter Story

As we think about this place and the slow, often invisible process of healing, I can’t help but think of Easter weekend.

Good Friday was the day of unimaginable pain—when Jesus suffered and died, and hope seemed to be forever extinguished. But perhaps even more difficult for the disciples was Saturday—the day in between. The waiting. The silence. The unbearable stillness when it seemed like God was no longer moving, no longer speaking, no longer near.

That Saturday held no visible miracle. No parting of the sea. No thunder from heaven. Just silence. And yet, it was in that space—between death and resurrection—that God was carrying out the most sacred, world-changing work of all.

The same is often true in our lives. We may be in a “Saturday season”—where grief has come, but the resurrection hasn’t yet revealed itself. And like the disciples, we may wonder if everything we hoped for has fallen apart. But God is still moving. Still faithful. Still working behind the scenes.

The silence doesn’t mean nothing is happening. It may mean everything is happening—just not in the way we expected. 

If you or someone you love is looking for Christian counseling—and lives in Illinois—please don’t hesitate to reach out. You can contact me at Tessa@finishwellgroup.com or call me directly at 331.267.5005.  Or if you are in other states, such as Florida, Colorado, Tennessee, Georgia or Virginia, we have excellent therapists on our team, that would love to offer you a Christ-centered place for healing.  

Blessings on your transformation journey.