When Mental Illness and Faith Collide: Things can get a bit Psychotic

A stained glass window outside my church

I remember the first time my mental illness and faith collided.

I was 20 years old and wholeheartedly believed demons were after me. I was lying on the floor in my grandma’s kitchen with a giant knife against my arm and weeping uncontrollably—not wanting to give into the voices that all screamed in unison “Do it! Kill yourself. You deserve to die.”

Thank God I didn’t hurt myself. Instead,...


Nicotine and Grace: An Angry Reflection with a Graceful Conclusion

I almost didn’t post this blog. It’s never flattering to be vulnerable with the world but, at times, it is quite necessary. My hope and desire in this piece is for you to be challenged, encouraged, and moved to action. 
I can relate to habits hurting others. At the height of my drinking, I hurt more than my fair share of people; from clients to students, coworkers, and family. I know what it’s...