Abiding: the key to healing
We live in a culture that prizes movement — progress, productivity, and the next measurable outcome. Yet, the deepest work of the soul is not movement, but staying. To abide is to remain present — grounded, connected, aware, and surrendered. It’s the art of staying in the place where life flows.
The Simplicity of Being Grounded
Abiding begins with something profoundly simple: awareness. In spiritual and psychological language alike, awareness is the muscle we develop through grounding — returning again and again to the body, to the breath, to the moment. In Christian language, this is life “in Christ.” It’s what Jesus meant when He said, “Abide in Me, and I in you.”
To abide is not to try harder; it is to stay connected. It’s the recognition that the branch does not have to “make” sap flow — it simply stays attached to the vine. The nourishment is already there. We don’t produce love, peace, or patience — we stay near to the Source that provides them.
The Challenge Is Not Connecting — It’s Remaining
It isn’t difficult to have a spiritual experience or to find a few moments of peace. Most of us can ground ourselves, breathe, or feel connected to God — at least momentarily. The real challenge is remaining there.
Abiding is the sustained awareness of the Presence of God and the inner self. In therapeutic terms, it’s the ability to stay unblended — to notice when we’ve been pulled into a part of ourselves (anxious, reactive, controlling) and gently return to the center. Abiding, then, is the spiritual practice of differentiation — staying aware of our inner landscape while choosing to live from the calm center of the soul.
Abiding as Daily Bread
Abiding isn’t a one-time revelation or a single retreat experience. It’s daily bread. Just as the Israelites gathered manna each morning, we are invited to draw fresh nourishment from God every day. Yesterday’s peace won’t sustain today’s storm. The practice of abiding is daily, moment by moment — a rhythm of returning.
Morning routines, prayer, breath, awareness — these are ways we gather spiritual nourishment. And when we forget, we simply return. That’s the mercy of abiding: we’re always one breath away from reconnecting.
Knowing Yourself to Know God
Abiding also involves curiosity about our own story. We can’t truly know God without knowing ourselves, because our story is the place where God meets us. To abide is to stay long enough within our own lives to see what drives us — the fears, compulsions, and wounds that shape our reactions.
It’s not indulgent to know your story; it’s holy work. Awareness of your parts — the anxious one, the striving one, the fearful one — allows God to meet them with compassion. As we learn to abide, these parts lose their grip, and our responses begin to change. Healing happens not by willpower but by presence.
Abiding in the Everyday
Abiding is not mystical escapism — it’s embodied spirituality. It’s what happens when you take a deep breath instead of reacting, when you sit quietly before rushing to fix, when you listen instead of defend. It’s a lived awareness that God is near and that you are not alone.
And like any discipline, it takes practice. We work out this muscle of awareness every day. In the words of one wise counselor, “To abide is to stay unblended and aware — aware of my parts, my story, and God’s presence in the middle of it all.”
Abiding isn’t just what makes us peaceful. It’s what makes us whole.

Comments by rforde