As someone who made a major career change from the business world to seminary, I have had to ask myself what exactly is my identity and calling? For many years, although I knew deep down that my identity was rooted in being a “child of God,” I had been falsely identifying with my career, job title, salary, travel, etc. As I come towards the end of my seminary journey, I am beginning to understand finally that my true identity lies with my relationships.
In our human nature, we tend to reflect on the negative, the frustrating, the disappointing. We wonder why we feel grumpy, angry, or irritable and often look for detailed, extravagant, sometimes expensive ways to help ourselves feel better. Yet the antidote to our lack of joy can often be found in the simple practice of gratitude. This practice of gratitude is one that is accessible to all yet rarely used in day-to-day life without intentionality.
Feeling discouraged, worn down, or overwhelmed? This blog post encourages a mindful reset by exploring the powerful link between physical and emotional wellbeing. With simple, actionable tips—like moving your body, fueling it well, and getting enough rest—it offers a compassionate reminder to care for yourself holistically during challenging times.
Expressive writing is a powerful tool for emotional healing, offering a way to clarify thoughts and release unspoken feelings. This post explores how journaling can reduce distress, improve physical health, and deepen self-awareness—whether through structured prompts or free-form reflection. Even a few minutes of intentional writing each week can create meaningful shifts in your mental and emotional wellbeing.
Love is a commitment to caring for another person who is just as imperfect as you are. A commitment that requires hard work when difficulty arises. Love means forgiving when hurtful mistakes are made. It often requires a level of sacrifice to self for the good of the other person and the good of the relationship. Here are some concrete ways to put love in action amidst difficulty.
Amid the quiet rhythm of a daily walk, this reflection explores how the changing seasons mirror the inner transformations we often overlook. With gentle observations and spiritual grounding, it’s an invitation to slow down, breathe deeply, and notice the beauty—and the divine presence—woven into everyday life.
Written by Megan Farcas, LMHC CMHIMP (Clinical Supervisor, Senior Clinician)
When I was a kid, it was hit or miss whether or not I would make my bed. Oftentimes the driving force behind a made bed was my parents' reminding. This was in turn sometimes met with a sarcastic comment, “Why, I’ll just get in it again?!" Into my teenage years, I started to make my bed more often because I liked the aesthetic. While working over the summer cleaning houses, one of my responsibilities was to make the beds and to make them look like a swanky hotel. I liked the look and started to replicate it at home. By time I made it to college, making the bed was essential. Space in my dorm room was all the space I had to study, hang out with people, and grab an occasional meal.
Since then, through the ever-busyness of life, I began to realize how this simple task impacted me. It was more than the aesthetic; it was the sense of feeling unfrazzled, unrushed, and productive. I realized that, in the mornings when I took a few minutes to make my bed, I felt more grounded, more prepared with a sense of determination for the day ahead. Its a way to signal to myself that the night is over (no matter how tired I may still be!) and that a new day is beginning. It gives me a moment to pause, to create order, to refresh. Sometimes while I make the bed I find myself becoming aware that I’m unconsciously giving myself a little pep talk for the day ahead. Preparing for potential stressors, reminding myself that I can handle things even if they are messy, just as I am tidying up this messy bed.
In 2014, Admiral William H. McRaven gave a commencement speech at the University of Texas at Austin which went viral with millions of views. It contained the premise, "If you want to make a difference in the world, start by making your bed." The thrust of his speech: taking small steps and accomplishing small tasks leads to a sense of pride, helping you work towards another task and another and another. In the end, you realize that small habits matter as they support larger habits. Similarly, in his book, The Power of Habit, Charles Duhigg notes that making your bed every day becomes a habit that can lead to further positive decisions over the day and a determined sense of taking charge. Over time these habits instill a confidence in taking charge that leads to a stronger skillset in tackling other important habits.
So, do you make your bed? Can you spare a few minutes to orient yourself with a sense of pride and productivity?
Now to be clear: this doesn’t necessarily mean that your bed is made perfectly. There are plenty of days mine is thrown together quickly before I'm on to the next thing. Nor is there any magic to this. Just because I make my bed doesn’t mean I am able to successfully accomplish everything in the day ahead. There are days when I make my bed with a real sense of motivation only to have the day end feeling unproductive with many tasks left undone. But on those days I still have an inviting, intentionally made bed to climb into to close out the day and prepare for the next one.
Written by Day Marshall, LMHC (Senior Clinician)
Very often in counseling sessions, I hear from clients a form of the sentiment, “I know that God is all powerful, loving and good, but I doubt He is like that with me.” This is related to experiences that point to feeling forgotten by God, or overlooked by Him, or worse, being punished by Him for not being ‘X’ enough. Recently in my personal study of the Word, I was looking deeply at the book of Ruth, and the plight of Naomi struck me as echoing what my clients often express.
Faced with the difficult decision to move from Bethlehem with her husband and two sons due to famine, Naomi’s family settled in Moab. During that time, all of her men died, and she only had her two daughters-in-law left. Naomi heard that after 10 years abroad, “the Lord had paid attention to His people’s need and provided food,” so she headed home. It is here we see Naomi’s expressed belief about God’s view of her: “my daughters, my life is much too bitter for you to share, because the Lord’s hand has turned against me.” Again, when Naomi arrived at Bethlehem, she expressed, “Call me Mara, for the Almighty has made me very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty...the Lord has pronounced judgment on me, and the Almighty has afflicted me.”
Despite Naomi’s painful circumstances, the Lord had significant plans for her, which included implications she could not possibly have imagined in her state of grief. We know the happy conclusion to Naomi’s story is not only one of immediate redemption through a grandson who renewed her life and sustained her in her old age, along with a daughter-in-law who loved her and was better “than seven sons,” but also includes being a part of the story of the Redeemer himself. In the beauty of God’s eternal plan, Naomi could not have known during her earthly life the significance of all she went through, but we bear witness to it with the bigger picture in view.
This is a sentiment I try to encourage clients to consider as they are feeling unloved, abandoned, forgotten, or in some way punished by a capricious God. I encourage holding onto the idea that He is never inclined toward us that way, even when it feels like it in the moment. It can feel difficult to trust that God’s love is not fleeting when we have experienced disappointment and pain that seems unrelenting. This is particularly true in the seasons of waiting; not knowing how long the grieving will last, or for what reason something is happening. And especially when, like Naomi, there is one loss piled on top of many others without any obvious way out.
When I meet with a client in this circumstance, I avoid placating sentiments, such as ‘everything happens for a reason,’ because it is not reasonable to ask someone who is suffering to embrace that their suffering is for a greater good. If they come to that conclusion independently, great. However, it can be harmful to impose on a person who feels neglected or unseen by God the idea that He is allowing them to suffer for some larger purpose. Rather, I attempt to enter into their grief with them, hearing their hearts and empathizing with how difficult it is to be a place of not knowing. Offering the sentiment of the father, desperate for the deliverance of his son’s lifelong affliction, whose heart cry was, “I believe! Help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24) is usually pretty close to the heart position of one longing to know the Father’s love for them when they feel alone.
Practices:
1) Sit with and grieve with those who grieve and who wait for the Lord’s deliverance.
2) Pray with and for them
3) Do for them – if they feel alone, invest in friendship with them. If they want a life partner, be the friend who encourages them to experience fullness of life as they prepare themselves to meet that person in the future
4) When there is a diagnosis or a loss that is excruciating, offer presence more than words, and offer service instead of expectations.
Written by Dan Brown, MA (Director of Operations, Senior Clinician)
"Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, ‘Are you for us or for our enemies?’ ‘Neither,’ he replied, ‘but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.’ Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, ‘What message does my Lord have for his servant?’ The commander of the Lord’s army replied, ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.’ And Joshua did so.” (Joshua 5:13-15)
Oftentimes we forget that God is in control of our lives and the battles we are facing. We also can wrongly think that He is always on our side in a disagreement. Both you and the person on the other side of the disagreement are made in the image of God. Our pride can keep us from seeing this as we become caught in a vortex of ME ME ME. Or we just forget. Or possibly our self-confidence can be low to the point where we can only see the ways in which we don’t stack up in the midst of these moments. Joshua was surely doubting his ability to lead, and he too turned inward and forgot God’s presence.
In his book The Gift of Being Yourself, David Benner illuminates the idea of true self and false self. For the Christian, the true self is in touch with its humanity and knows its limits and can deeply connect with the Almighty. The false self is critical of self and others and tries to control and manipulate. In these false self moments, we must realize that we are out of center and return to our true self in order to hear God more clearly and understand ourselves more fully.
St. Augustine prayed, "Grant, Lord, that I may know myself that I may know thee." Similarly, John Calvin asserts in his Institutes, "It is evident that man never attains to a true self-knowledge until he has previously contemplated the face of God, and come down after such contemplation to look into himself." As we grow in our understanding of self and live within our true selves more authentically, we can more easily discern God's voice and presence. We can be freed from illusions and misconceptions and stop striving to be someone we are not or think the world around wants or needs us to be. When we do this, we come to realize that we can be standing on holy ground in the midst of our deepest struggles.
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