I was drawn to counseling out of a desire to offer others something I have deeply longed for myself: a safe, compassionate place to be known, to make sense of our stories, and to encounter God in the places that have shaped and wounded us. As I experienced the value of being deeply seen and accompanied in my own life, I began to recognize a desire—and eventually a calling—to offer that same kind of presence to others. That calling led me to pursue training that would help me care wisely for the whole person and to walk alongside people as they explore their stories, grieve what has been lost, and move toward greater freedom, healing, and formation in Christ.

I love the sacred privilege of being invited into someone’s story and getting to witness what happens as they begin to see themselves, their relationships, and even God with greater clarity. Some of my favorite moments are when something that has felt tangled begins to make sense, when someone finds words for what they have carried for a long time, or when they begin to recognize that there might be another way of being. I love watching people grow in freedom, connection, and a deeper awareness of God’s presence with them.

My approach is never rushed or merely corrective, but companioning—walking alongside those who are weary or seeking hope. To steward souls in this way is not only a privilege but a joy.

I try to live with an awareness of my own limits and pay attention to what is happening within me. Solitude, silence, prayer, time in Scripture, walking, and being outside help me stay grounded and attentive to God. I also intentionally seek out art and beauty—music, poetry, good writing, creating, and the beauty of the natural world. These things help awaken something in me that can easily become muted by the weight of caring for others. I value honest relationships where I can be known and cared for, along with rhythms of rest and reflection. And I am continually learning the importance of receiving care myself, rather than always being the one offering it.

I am especially drawn to the intersection of story, trauma, attachment, relationships, and spiritual formation—understanding how our experiences have shaped the ways we relate to ourselves, others, and God. Much of my training has grown out of that curiosity, including Narrative-Focused Trauma Care (NFTC-I), Level 2 Certified Christian Trauma Care Provider (CCTCP-II), Trust-Based Relational Intervention (TBRI), and the Confessional Communities Training Program. I am also a Certified Enneagram Coach, which has given me another helpful lens for exploring the ways we adapt, protect ourselves, and relate to others.

I have a particular interest in relational harm and repair, including destructive relationship patterns, coercive control, and domestic abuse. My training as a Men of Peace Advanced Trained Facilitator/Partner has deepened my understanding of these dynamics and the kind of careful, wise care they require.

What ties all of these interests together for me is a genuine curiosity about people and their stories. I love helping someone become curious about why they respond the way they do, how those responses once served them, and what greater freedom, connection, repentance, and wholeness might look like as they move forward.

I have been deeply shaped by the writings of Augustine, Herman Bavinck, Henri Nouwen, Curt Thompson, Jim Wilder, Aundi Kolber, Diane Langberg, and Brad Hambrick. Their words have helped me think more deeply about God, people, and the work of healing. I also turn often to poets like Denise Levertov, Mary Oliver, Malcolm Guite, George Herbert, Scott Cairns, Christian Wiman, and Micheal O’Siadhail, who remind me to pay attention to beauty and mystery in ordinary life.

Music and art also nourish me. Some of the musicians I most enjoy are Jon and Valerie Guerra, The Brilliance, Young Oceans, John Mark Pantana, Taylor Leonhardt, and Jonathan Ogden. Artists whose work I delight in include Rothko, Rembrandt, Makoto Fujimura, and Sylwia Perczak—along with a growing list of others whose creativity draws me closer to God’s beauty.

A few resources that have been especially meaningful to me include A Still and Quiet Mind by Esther Smith, a book that has shaped the way I think about my inner life, and The Lord Is My Courage by K.J. Ramsey, which has been a healing companion in facing pain inflicted by the Church.

I don’t think of faith or spirituality as something I integrate. It is life and breath, warp and woof. I try to cling to Jesus moment by moment, seeking to abide in Him and keep my heart turned toward Him throughout the day. The Scriptures are where I hear His voice most clearly, so I immerse myself in them daily, letting His Word shape how I live and love. Prayer, examen, and Scripture reading are not simply practices but a way of life for me—woven into my relationships, my work, and even the ordinary places of my day.

I pray the Daily Office, journal often, and am currently working through the Ignatian Exercises, which have been both deeply challenging and profoundly life-giving.

For me, fixing my eyes on Jesus helps me remember my belovedness. I am His, and He is mine. Faith is not something set apart from life—it is the very way of life itself.

I love creativity in many forms—making and viewing art, reading and sometimes writing poetry, and soaking in music (listening only, for now!). Good food, lingering at an art museum, and time spent with beauty in its many expressions bring me joy. I also enjoy movies and shows that capture the depth of the human experience—stories where characters, shaped by their past and their environments, are reaching toward something redemptive.

As I shared above, I’ve known the disorientation of spiritual abuse, having had to leave a church family I once thought I would spend the rest of my life with. That loss was excruciating and taught me a great deal about the nature of people, pastors, and the Church. Yet in the midst of it, the Lord drew me closer to Himself, strengthening my dependence on and hope in the Risen Christ.

Through this journey, I’ve learned greater humility, patience, and kindness toward those who are suffering. I’ve also learned what it means to stand firm in the convictions God has given me, while seeking to walk in gentleness and kindness. Recovery has been a long road, but I can say with gratitude that I continue to experience healing and restoration each day.

Well, I am human, so there are certainly times when I don’t “handle it” well. When I feel stress beginning to rise, my first impulse is often to react quickly—but I’ve learned that this rarely serves me well. Instead, I try to slow down, acknowledge where I am, and ask what the Lord might be inviting me into in that moment. The more I practice this, the more natural it becomes. Seeking wise counsel and processing with a trusted friend also helps me re-align my heart toward Christ’s.

These are the same practices I often invite my counselees to explore:

• What is your body experiencing right now?

• What are you feeling emotionally?

• What thoughts are leading to those emotions?

• How might the Lord be inviting you to respond?