Healing, Wholeness, and the Word: Why Spiritual Health and Physical Health Are Connected

A conversation with Dr. Alex Walzel

In a culture obsessed with optimization, recovery tools, longevity protocols, and “biohacks”, it’s easy to believe that health is something we can engineer into permanence. But Scripture gives us a deeper framework: the body matters, the spirit matters more, and the two are not disconnected.

This blog is inspired by a podcast conversation with Dr. Alex Walzel. We cover physical healing, spiritual healing, and how they intersect.

 Staying Anchored in School: Success Without Idolatry

Seasons of intense training, whether chiropractic school, graduate education, or early professional life, have a way of revealing what truly anchors us. The workload is heavy. Expectations are high. Comparison is constant. And if we’re not careful, our sense of worth can quietly become entangled with grades, credentials, or performance.

Dr. Wazel speaks candidly about this tension. The pursuit of excellence itself is not the problem. Scripture calls us to diligence and faithfulness. The danger lies in what we believe excellence is for. When success becomes the destination rather than a means of stewardship, even good pursuits begin to hollow us out.

The corrective is not apathy, but surrender. You still study. You still give your best. But your identity is no longer tethered to outcomes. Instead, your work becomes an offering—an act of worship rather than a referendum on your value.

Anchors matter in seasons like this. Time in the Word, even when it feels inconvenient. Prayer that reflects dependence rather than routine. And Christian community—brothers and sisters who remind you who you are when pressure tries to redefine you.

Without spiritual health, academic or professional success eventually rings hollow. But when a career is surrendered to Christ, even the hardest seasons are infused with meaning—because they are connected to eternity.

Scripture’s Honest Diagnosis: Sin Does Not Stay “Spiritual”

Modern conversations often treat sin as an abstract, purely internal matter—something confined to belief systems or moral categories. Scripture refuses to compartmentalize it that way.

Psalm 32 gives us an uncomfortably honest picture. David describes the physical toll of unconfessed sin: bones wasting away, vitality drained, groaning that does not stop. This is not poetic exaggeration meant to sound dramatic. It is a sober description of what happens when guilt, shame, and rebellion remain hidden.

The Bible consistently ties inner realities to outer consequences. Anxiety weighs the heart down. Envy corrodes joy. Suppressed guilt does not remain neatly contained—it leaks into the body, relationships, and daily life.

Yet the passage does not end in despair. The path forward is clear and merciful: confession, repentance, forgiveness, restoration. Not as punishment—but as freedom. Scripture does not expose sin to shame us; it exposes sin to heal us.

Why Scripture Keeps Talking About Bones

As the discussion moves into Proverbs, the imagery becomes even more tangible. A glad heart is called “good medicine.” A broken spirit dries up the bones. Jealousy is described as rottenness to the skeletal system itself.

This language resonates deeply when you understand the body. Bones are not inert structures. They are living tissue that are vascular, responsive, constantly remodeling. Scripture uses physical language because we are embodied creatures. What we harbor internally affects how we function externally.

Jealousy and envy are highlighted not because they are particularly flashy sins, but because they are quietly destructive. They isolate us. They distort calling. They turn gratitude into comparison and joy into resentment. And over time, they erode peace from the inside out.

Across the breadth of Scripture, the pattern is consistent: God’s ways lead to life. Sin leads to decay. Repentance leads to restoration.

The Word Heals Because Jesus Is the Word

Psalm 107 states plainly: “He sent His word and healed them.” This verse takes on profound depth when read alongside the opening of John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word… and the Word was God.”

The Word is not merely instruction. He is a Person. Jesus Christ is the Word made flesh—the means by which God addresses humanity’s deepest sickness: separation from Himself.

This reframes the entire conversation about healing. Physical healing matters. Relief from pain matters. Restoration of function matters. But these are not ultimate. The truest healing is reconciliation with God – deliverance from spiritual death and restoration into right relationship with Him.

Clinical care can support the body. Only Christ can resurrect the soul.

God’s Definition of Recovery Is Deeper Than Optimization

Isaiah 58 introduces language that feels strikingly modern: recovery, healing, light breaking forth. Yet the context could not be more countercultural.

God ties recovery not to self-enhancement, but to humility, obedience, generosity, and true worship. Fasting is addressed—not as a performance or a strategy, but as a heart posture. A laying down of self in order to be reoriented toward God and others.

This is where many well-intended spiritual practices go astray. Fasting, prayer, and discipline can subtly morph into tools for control, image management, or self-improvement. Isaiah confronts this directly. God’s concern is not metrics—it is transformation.

Physical benefits may come, but they are not the point. Communion with God is.

Longevity, Fear, and the Illusion of Control

As the conversation turns toward modern longevity culture, an underlying tension becomes apparent. The desire to preserve health at all costs is often driven by something deeper than stewardship, it is driven by fear.

Fear of decline. Fear of loss. Fear of death.

That fear is understandable in a world without resurrection. If this life is all there is, then longevity becomes security. Control becomes salvation.

But the gospel offers something radically different. Christ does not promise escape from mortality—He promises victory over it. The Christian does not deny the body’s limits. The Christian lives in hope of redemption.

This reframes health entirely. We care for the body as a gift, not a god. We refuse to worship longevity. And we anchor our hope not in control, but in Christ—who has already defeated death.

A Biblical Framework for Healing and Wholeness

Scripture gives us a balanced, life-giving framework:

The body matters. We are embodied souls, and our choices affect our physical lives.

The soul matters more. True healing begins with reconciliation to God.

The Word is central. Scripture exposes, restores, and directs.

Repentance leads to freedom. Hidden sin drains vitality; confession restores life.

Health is stewardship, not identity. We pursue wellness to honor God, not to escape mortality.

Christ is the ultimate healer. Clinicians serve; Jesus saves.

A Final Word of Encouragement

It is a gift to study the body, to refine clinical skill, and to help people move and live with less pain. But it is a greater gift to speak of Jesus and His Word.

If you feel burdened – spiritually exhausted, anxious, or weighed down by hidden sin—the invitation of Scripture is not condemnation. It is mercy.

Confess. Repent. Turn to Christ.

He sent His Word and He heals.

And for clinicians, students, and professionals alike: pursue excellence. Build skill. Serve people well.

But never forget the point.

All of it is unto the Lord.