Where I Started

I’m the second of six kids, raised on a farm in eastern Washington in a “Christian” home where my dad used the Bible coercively for his own purposes. He defined “Respect” and “submission” as “obedience.” And then justified and excused his rages and destructive behavior because we weren’t “respecting” him.  Perfection equaled compliance, conforming, and hiding. He did not see us as separate people with feelings, thoughts, or perspectives of our own. And he made our world smaller if we did not conform.  When he was angry, he took away what he knew we loved or wanted or needed.  The message I internalized was that I was only valuable for what I did, how well I obeyed.  I was taught never to say aloud what I wanted or loved.  I was taught not to ask.  And I was taught that it was totally up to me to protect my own heart.

When I was 16, I left and never looked back. Although I never left God behind and can’t tell my story without including Him. I remember feeling a bit like it was me and God against the world.  Feeling really alone in a lot of ways, I was also finally free to live and think and speak.  I saw that it was God who rescued me.  It wasn’t my courage (I did NOT feel courageous) nor my foresight (I was 16- my brain wasn’t even fully developed yet!).  It was God, moving in a very counter-Christian way (This certainly didn’t look like “honoring” my father!) to set my path according to Him.

Where Complacency collided with reality

After high school, I left WA for TX, where I finished a bachelor’s degree in psychology, got married, and made a life around my (now ex-) husband’s career climb. That took us from TX to MI to NC, where I also began life as a stay-at-home mom.  Life was good!  At least, I thought we were on the right track.  I thought the hard things we’d worked through were truly worked through, and the things we were ignoring were simply issues we would address eventually.   I believed that God was the center of our lives and if all else failed, we’d both turn to Him to help us find the way through.  That was how I had always experienced God, and trusted it would always work. (I still do!!  But, I’ve learned to redefine what “work” means.)

As the years of marriage set in, I had realized that we were disconnected and mostly only co-existing for a long time.  But, I had chalked it up to the season we were in.  He traveled a lot. My hands were full managing the home and two little boys.  I knew this was a normally difficult season for families, and expected us to survive it and reconnect on the other side.  I thought we were still committed to the values we professed (God, the sacredness of marriage, living a life growing, learning, and collaborating). There came a day, though, that he began saying textbook divorce-oriented statements. “I don’t love you anymore.”  “I was too young to know what I really wanted when we got married, and you’re not it.” “We’ve never been emotionally connected.” “You’ve never really known me.” “I’ve found someone who’s a better fit for me.”   He moved from complaining about my habits and behavior to criticizing how I thought, to eventually condemning who I was as unfit for him – with no room for me to speak into or question what he had decided.

I did everything I knew to do to change the trajectory of our marriage. I worked harder to meet his expectations and change the things he didn’t like about me. Taking a fierce inventory of my own character, I worked to eradicate anything that wasn’t true to who I knew God was calling me to be. I prayed harder, sought counsel, and asked my church leadership to help redirect us. I read every book and listened to every podcast I could about marriage, relationships, communication, and crisis.  Most of my time felt absolutely alone and with no idea what tomorrow would hold.

In the process,  I struggled chaotically to find footing and purpose. My heart physically, literally, hurt every day for the six years between that first moment I learned he wanted out until the day I signed his divorce papers, granted five days after our 19th anniversary.  I wrestled with fear and panic, with faith, with God’s goodness, with why it mattered to keep pressing forward.  I wasn’t even sure what “pressing forward” meant!

But God…

But, God (love it when He ‘buts’ in!) saw fit to deeply shape my trust in Him through all this.  Having my feet knocked so completely out from under me compelled me to be on my face before Him, learning to spend every moment desperate for His hope and steadfastness.  He sent mentors to speak truth and hope to me, and awakened me to the daily reminders of His sovereignty.

I did want to give up! Sometimes it was hard to see why I shouldn’t take everything I could and run! I was incredibly close to a mental breakdown.  My feisty, rebellious side wasn’t tolerating any of this well.

But, God kept working to shape my character to be a better reflection of His, making me ask the hard questions about how I could still honor him in all this, and what it would look like to be a conduit of grace and mercy.  And I kept finding Him holding me even when I felt like I was falling into an abyss.

Walking out Redemption

The truly surprising part is that I thought redemption would mean a reconciled marriage.  And a story of overcoming the ugly underbelly of our selfishness to rise strong and beautiful together.  But God’s idea of redemption was even bigger – to expose a love grand enough to cover every bit of my longing without my healing hinging upon another person.  I had to learn that healing didn’t have to mean my husband came home.  It did mean leaning hard into what I knew to be good, and right, and true, and then taking the next right step forward.  And it meant that I had to let God be God and trust my times to His hands.

The walk of redemption also means we have not “arrived” until we’re standing face to face with our Creator.

I finished up my Master’s Degree in professional counseling hoping that my scars could help speak healing to your open wounds.  I’ve learned to navigate the nuances of foolishness, emotional and verbal abuse as well as the secondary abuse that came from well-meaning, but naive, counsel of trusted advisors and friends.  I had to struggle through depression, panic attacks, hopelessness, worthlessness, grief and redefining what it meant to trust God so I could put to it to words for those with silenced hearts. 

Now as a Trasformational Life Coach, my passion is to help you see a way through your own pain and grief. To add stability and integrity to your daily life and establish a path of wisdom and joy in spite of the sorrow.  Whether you are single or married, an individual or couple, I work to help you add healthy depth to your relationships and create space for you to grow in your own giftedness and passions. My mission is to be a minister of God’s grace to you so that you may find the strength to put one foot in front of the other to journey purposefully and steadfastly through the life God has laid out before you.

My boys are grown and have launched into their own adult lives now.  I’m a grandma, and married to a man who appreciates the adventure as much as I do.