With over a decade of experience as a mental health professional, and faith that has roots in my parents and grandparents before me, I’ve walked the hard road of healing while also trying to be a “good Christian.” I know what it’s like to cry out to God for relief, to throw myself into prayer, fasting, and revival—only to feel like something was still missing. I carried wounds I couldn’t name, lived with shame I thought was just part of faith, and wrestled with the fear that maybe I was the problem. Why wasn’t my faith bringing about the healing that God had promised?

My pain, my fears, and my doubts led me beyond religious rituals and into the deeper work of trauma healing—where faith and psychology meet, where the nervous system finds peace, and where true renewal happens. I had spent years believing that if I just prayed harder, had more faith, or surrendered more completely, the heaviness would lift. But healing didn’t come through striving—it came through understanding. It came through learning how trauma lives in the body, how shame distorts our view of God, and how true faith isn’t about denying our wounds but bringing them into the light.

As I began integrating faith with trauma-informed healing, I found something I never expected: freedom. Not the kind that’s preached from a pulpit but the kind that settles deep in your bones—the kind that allows you to breathe again, to feel safe in your own body, and to connect with God in a way that feels healing, not heavy. The more I healed, the more I realized that God had been leading me here all along—not away from faith, but into a deeper, more authentic relationship than I ever thought possible.

Now, I help others do the same. If you’re tired of surface-level answers and are ready for real, lasting healing, you’re in the right place. You don’t have to choose between your faith and your healing—both are possible, and I’d love to walk with you on that path.