Stop! Look! What's Beneath the Surface That's Good For You?

 

There’s something about a quiet kitchen at night. A pot steaming gently on the stove. The smell of garlic rising. Ginger sliced thin. A ritual you can’t quite explain, but somehow it feels… right.

Maybe you’ve started doing this too—going back to roots, literally. Teas made from lapacho bark. Onions soaking in honey. Cat’s claw steeped slow. It’s not about trends. It’s something deeper. Ancient. Like your body is remembering something your mind forgot.

You begin to ask: Why do these things matter? Why now?

No one ever tells you that the journey to health can feel spiritual. That caring for your body stirs up something in your soul. That brewing a tea can make you want to cry for no reason at all.

But maybe there is a reason.

Because as you stir, you start feeling a question rise—what am I really trying to heal?

You start to see the small choices—drinking ginger instead of soda, choosing rest over rushing—as more than self-care. You wonder if they’re whispers. Invitations. Maybe even… prayers.

There’s a different kind of hunger behind all this, isn’t there?

Maybe that’s why a verse echoes in the quiet:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Rest. Real rest. The kind no supplement can offer. The kind no cleanse can reach. The kind that goes past your bones and straight into the places you've been hiding.

And just like that, the direction shifts. You’re no longer reaching for wellness—you’re reaching for Him.

“I will give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

That’s what this is. That’s what your body’s been aching for. Hope. Not the kind you scroll past online, but the kind that breaks chains. The kind that speaks when the night is silent. The kind that walks with you into tomorrow.

So tonight, let the tea steep. Let the silence linger. Let the questions rise.

Because beneath the surface of every search for healing… is a soul longing to come home.