After surviving a traumatic event, I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, and depression. I grew up in the Evangelical Church so I heard people speak, countless times, about how they experienced “peace beyond understanding” in their moment of crisis. I’m happy for them. But when tragedy struck my life, all I felt was abandonment. So I did not run through the church doors in search of recovery. I ran to the wilderness.
And Jesus met me there.
My story isn’t unique. I am a part of, what Rachel Held Evans calls, a ‘generation of John the Baptists following a generation of Zachariases’. Despite growing up in the Church, we’re more often found in the wilderness.
That’s what I write about. I write about my still-happening struggle with God and how He never ceases to show up and wrestle with me. Through people and meals and global explorations, He affirms that He is unintimidated by my questions and unfazed by my doubts. In fact, He welcomes them.