About Me

I believe God is big enough for our questions, our mess, our anger, our grief, and the parts of our stories that still do not make sense.

That belief has shaped both my personal journey and the way I sit with people in the counseling room.

My faith has not been a journey of having all the right answers. It has included wrestling, questioning, learning, unlearning, and discovering that God often meets us in places we never expected to find Him. Because of that, I have a special place in my heart for people who love God but are also carrying complicated feelings about faith, church, or things that have happened in their lives.

One of my favorite Scriptures is Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” I love the simplicity of that promise. It does not tell us to hurry up and stop hurting. It tells us where God is when we are hurting—close.

I am also drawn to Romans 12:2 and the invitation to be transformed through the renewing of our minds. As someone who loves both psychology and theology, I am fascinated by the ways our brains learn, adapt, protect us, and heal. I don’t see science and faith as enemies. For me, understanding the brain gives us another beautiful window into understanding how wonderfully and intricately God created us.

So yes, we may talk about Scripture in my office. We may pray. We may talk about grace, forgiveness, identity, purpose, boundaries, or what it means to trust God again.

But we may also talk about why your amygdala keeps pulling the fire alarm when there isn’t a fire.

We might talk about trauma, attachment, neurodivergence, relationships, family patterns, nervous systems, or why you intellectually understand something but your body apparently did not get the memo.

And sometimes, we may simply sit with the fact that something hurts.

I believe there is a place in Christian counseling for lament. There is room to say, “God, I don’t understand this.” There is room for anger. There is room for grief. There is room for doubt. There is room for the person who has experienced church hurt, spiritual abuse, shame-based teaching, or the kind of theology that made them afraid to ask questions.

You will never hear me tell you to “just pray it away.”

Prayer matters deeply to me—but I also believe God gave us brains, bodies, relationships, wisdom, medicine, community, and people who are trained to help us understand what is happening inside of us.

I am not interested in forcing my faith onto anyone or giving you a list of Christian answers to memorize. I am much more interested in getting curious with you about your story: What happened? What did you learn from it? How did your brain learn to survive it? What do you believe about yourself because of it? Where is God in all of this? And what might healing look like now?

You are more than a diagnosis. You are more than your trauma. You are more than the worst thing that has happened to you.

And you do not have to have everything figured out before you walk through my door.

Bring your story. Bring your questions. Bring the messy parts.

We’ll start there.