"I'm rowing backward into the future."

As the child of itinerant evangelists, I spent my first six years moving every one to two weeks. That early nomadic existence shaped my nervous system and my vocation. I learned the territory of displacement before I had language for it.

I also witnessed and experienced spiritual abuse within toxic religious communities. I saw how systems weaponized scripture to control rather than liberate. I watched authority figures exploit vulnerability under the banner of spiritual care. I felt the disorientation of being told that my perceptions were signs of rebellion rather than accurate assessments of harmful dynamics.

These exposures gave me pattern recognition that no academic training could replicate. I learned to distinguish between genuine spiritual formation and manipulative spiritual control. I developed sensitivity to the gap between stated religious values and actual relational practices. I understand the unique grief of leaving communities that claimed to offer belonging but demanded conformity at the cost of dignity.

I understand adaptive patterns from lived experience, not theory alone. My authority to guide others through religious trauma terrain comes not from having avoided harm, but from having traveled the path between captivity and freedom without abandoning my spiritual hunger.

I no longer seek permission from gatekeepers whose contracts with my calling have expired. I speak from earned authority in domains where I once sought approval from institutions that could not recognize what I carried. I have completed the journey from institutional dependency to vocational ownership—and I guide others across that same terrain.

This shift did not happen through dramatic rebellion. It happened through quiet, persistent building. I created platforms I own rather than waiting for platforms controlled by others. I developed language for realities that official frameworks could not name. I built a practice that serves people my origin communities dismissed as too broken, too angry, or too far gone.

I work at the intersection of trauma recovery and salutogenic practice—focusing not on what is wrong, but on what supports the origins of health and wholeness. I integrate vocational discernment with nervous system regulation. I name spiritual abuse without requiring clients to abandon their spiritual hunger. I help leaders build authority from liminal locations rather than waiting for traditional institutions to grant them permission.

My work occupies multiple territories simultaneously—a natural extension of dwelling in liminal space myself.

As Senior Faculty and Director of Organizational Programs at the Arizona Trauma Institute, I help organizations see what they have grown accustomed to ignoring: the gap between their stated trauma-informed values and their actual relational practices. I name misalignments that leadership has normalized. I build accountability structures that prevent value-practice drift. This work serves institutions attempting their own journey between aspirational identity and integrated reality.

Through Making Space to Heal, I walk alongside individuals navigating the terrain I know firsthand. I guide people through religious trauma recovery without requiring them to abandon spiritual hunger. I coach leaders building authority from liminal locations rather than waiting for traditional gatekeepers to grant permission. I support those displaced between worlds as they learn to dwell in third space as legitimate territory rather than temporary exile.

Through Finding Everland: A Trauma-Informed Journey Through the Psalms, I offer a map for those traveling between the old country of inherited religious trauma and the not-yet-arrived territory of integrated faith. The book guides readers through the first forty-one Psalms as a framework for healing from spiritual abuse—not toward escape or denial, but toward sustainable ways of living authentically after devastating harm. Finding Everland is testimony from someone who has traveled this terrain, not theory from someone who watched from a distance.

Through I Was Loved: 10 Statements I Hope My Child Can Say About Their Childhood, I address prevention rather than recovery alone. The book responds directly to leaders of the ACEs movement who asked, "How can we prevent adverse childhood experiences before they occur?" I provide parents with ten guiding principles designed to ensure their children will one day say with certainty—"I felt safe and secure, I was encouraged to explore and learn, I was listened to, and my feelings were respected." This work extends the salutogenic framework into family systems, helping parents create environments that build resilience from the beginning rather than requiring repair later.

This work across multiple territories requires both formal training and lived experience. I hold credentials that institutions recognize:

• BS, Applied Management
• MCS, Master's in Counseling
• DPTh, Doctorate in Practical Theology
• DAAETS, Diplomate American Academy of Experts in Traumatic Stress (Traumatology)
• CTRLC, Certified Trauma and Resiliency Life Coach

These matter. They open doors. They provide language. They demonstrate rigor.

But my deepest qualification is this: I dwell in the liminal space with you. I know what it costs to leave old countries without clear destinations. I know the disorientation when familiar landmarks disappear, and new ones have not yet emerged. I know the unique grief of honoring origins you must also refuse. I know how to build a life in third territories—not as temporary waiting rooms, but as legitimate dwelling places.

I do not guide from distant expertise. I guide as a companion who has traveled this terrain and knows its patterns. I will not rush you toward false arrival. I will not require you to demonize what you left or idealize what you seek. I will walk the middle territory with you, naming what others have missed or dismissed, until you develop the authority to lead from your own liminal location.

This is the work I do. This is the terrain I know. This is the stance I offer.