Healed People Heal People
We have all heard the expression, “Hurt people hurt people.” And we all recognize how true that is. Whether we witnessed it in a bully on the playground or a CEO who takes their anger out on employees, it is not hard to see that wounds, when left unattended, do not remain contained. They tend to spill over into our relationships, often in ways we don’t fully understand. Another common way of saying this is that “pain that is not transformed is transmitted.” Whether we realize it or not, we tend to transmit whatever our interior state is onto those around us. Recently, on a private retreat, I was reflecting on this insight, and I realized that if this is true, then the opposite must be true as well: Healed people heal people. Just as we transmit the brokenness that we do not face onto others, we can transmit the healing that we experience to others as well.
St. Francis de Sales, whose spirituality is marked by a profound confidence in the gentleness of God, expresses this beautifully: “The divine love does not use violence; it acts with a sweet, gentle, and powerful force” (Treatise on the Love of God). If this is how God acts toward us, then it is also how healing takes root within us. We are not transformed by harshness, by shaming ourselves for our past actions, but by a patient and persistent compassion.
Over time, many of us come to recognize that our lives carry traces of earlier wounds—moments where love was absent, when there should have been kindness, but there was dismissiveness or rejection. These experiences often give rise to deep-seated beliefs about ourselves, about others, and even about God. Without realizing it, we may begin to interpret the present through the lens of the past.
And yet, the Lord does not remain distant from these places. He gently invites us to bring them into His presence. Even painful memories can become places of encounter, where what was once marked by fear or confusion is gradually illuminated by the steady light of God’s love. Bringing these parts of our lives that we prefer to keep tucked away in our memory into conversation with God is the path to healing.
In that light, we start to see more clearly—not only our own woundedness, but also the woundedness of others. We begin to understand that the people who have hurt us are always carrying burdens of their own. This does not excuse what is wrong, but it does open a new possibility: the possibility of compassion. From experience, I have learned that at the bottom of every memory and every situation, it is only compassion that heals. We may say that “time heals all,” but that is not entirely true. Time does heal many things, but unconditional love is what truly heals all.
If unhealed wounds can spread harm, then healed wounds can become sources of grace. A heart that has encountered the tenderness of God is gradually changed by that encounter. It becomes more capable of patience, understanding, and mercy. In a world that often feels marked by cycles of hurt, this transformation matters. In fact, the greatest gift we can give to the world may be to allow Christ to transform our hearts. This is rarely dramatic. It unfolds quietly, often hidden from view. But it is real.
Healed people heal people.
Mr. Matthew Trovato, OSFS
Oblate Seminarian