What a Chiropractor Can See That an X-Ray Can't
When I first started practicing, when someone came into my office hurting, one of the first questions I'd ask was, "How did you get hurt?" Were you in a car accident? Did you fall? Did you start playing pickleball?
Back then, most people could point to a specific event that caused their pain. Today, it's different. Most people who come into my office aren't dealing with a single injury. They're carrying the weight of modern life. Families. Finances. Deadlines. Expectations. The pressure to succeed in a society that constantly tells us we need more, need to do more, and need to be more. Most of the time, I don't even need to ask what's going on. My patients live in the same world I do. I can see the stress and tension in their faces. I can hear it in their voices. I can feel it in their bodies.
One of the things we learn in chiropractic is what we call the "Three T's"—thoughts, traumas, and toxins (technology is now the 4th “T”). The body is remarkably resilient and can adapt to all these stressors. It absorbs. It compensates. It finds ways to keep moving forward. But only up to a point. Eventually, the body becomes overwhelmed. Symptoms appear. Pain shows up. Illness develops. The body's way of saying, "I can't carry this burden alone anymore."
The more I've practiced, the more I've realized that this reality points to something much deeper than anatomy and physiology. It points to how God created us. The body was never meant to be separate from the soul. Scripture presents the human person as a unity of body and spirit. We are not souls trapped in bodies. We are embodied souls, created in the image and likeness of God. And because of that, the body constantly reveals invisible realities.
A sacrament is an invisible grace communicated through visible matter. God uses physical things to communicate spiritual realities. Water in Baptism. Bread and wine in the Eucharist. Oil in Anointing. Matter becomes a vehicle of grace. The human body works in a similar way. A smile reveals joy. Tears reveal sorrow. A touch communicates love. Words communicate thoughts that no one can see. Physical actions reveal spiritual realities. As a chiropractor, I've seen this countless times. Sometimes people walk into my office carrying burdens they never mention out loud. Yet their bodies tell the story. Their posture changes. Their breathing changes. Their muscles tighten. Their eyes lose a certain brightness. Likewise, I've seen people who are thriving spiritually. There is a peace about them. A presence. A light in their eyes that is difficult to describe but impossible to miss if you’re paying attention. The body reveals what is happening beneath the surface.
Throughout Scripture, the spiritual and physical are constantly connected. Fear causes trembling. Grief causes weeping. Peace calms the heart. Joy strengthens the body—the bones! The invisible becomes visible. As followers of Christ—as spouses, parents, teachers, friends, and healthcare providers—we need to become better at recognizing this reality in one another.
People are often asking for help long before they ever use words. In my experience, sometimes they need advice. Sometimes they need correction—the truth spoken in love. And sometimes they just need a good adjustment and a hug.
There have been times in my practice that after seeing a patient I’ve thought, "That wasn't my best adjustment." Yet the patient got better. I’d ask myself, what got them better—how did they heal despite my crappy work? Was it the conversation? Maybe. Was it that someone finally listened to them? Maybe. I suspect healing is often bigger than we realize. Don’t get me wrong, the adjustment matters. The physical care matters. God created the body to respond to touch, movement, and proper function. But healing ultimately comes from something deeper. It comes from the life God has placed within each person.
St. Paul tells us that we are one body in Christ. What affects one part affects the whole. This isn't just spiritual language; it's reality. What we do matters. The way we speak matters. The way we treat people matters. The things we do in private matter. Our sins wound not only ourselves but others. Our virtues strengthen not only ourselves but others. A life lived with integrity becomes a source of strength for those around us. When we cooperate with God's grace, the Holy Spirit works through us in ways we often don't recognize.
In healthcare, I've learned that sometimes less is more. Sometimes the best thing I can do is remove an obstacle and let the body do what God designed it to do—heal. The spiritual life often works the same way. Sometimes our job is not to force outcomes but simply to get out of the way and allow God to work. To become a conduit rather than the source and remember that Christ is the healer.
If there's one lesson both chiropractic and Christianity continue to teach me, it's this: Love your neighbor (and your enemies). They are carrying burdens you cannot see. Love the person standing in front of you. Listen. Encourage. Serve. And pray for them. Because every act of genuine love strengthens the Body of Christ. And in a world filled with stress, anxiety, division, and loneliness, loving your neighbor may be one of the most powerful forms of healing we can offer.
