I am a woman recovering from both trauma and her ideals, thinly tethered to this broken earth by the beauty of lupines and sunflowers and peach-colored sunsets.

I am wife to the wisest man I've ever met, a redhead whose ability to listen outmatches anyone I know. 

I am chosen, cared for by the one who willingly made vows of "in sickness and health" to a woman with a disease, who proves his willingness every morning, handing me coffee in a cup small enough for my arthritic hands to grasp, never complaining about my inability to bear the morning's burdens.  

I am the daughter of a man who exclusively wears Carhaart jeans and hooded sweatshirts and has never stepped foot in a college classroom. I'm his "Summa," the nickname he gave me after graduating summa cum laude, proud as hell even though he only gives half a damn about most of what I studied. 

I am the heir of my mother's hospitable heart, resilient spirit, and age-defying good looks. Like her, I can survive almost any storm of emotion, abuse, or misunderstanding. 

I laugh with my grandmother's snort, wildly sharing my joy no matter how obnoxious it sounds to those around me. I have equal love for both interpersonal neurobiology and goofy antics. I laugh at my own jokes and odd ponderings more than anyone laughs with me. 

I am a woman who suffers, bearing witness to the pain my body carries every day from autoimmune disease. I can't remember what it's like to live a day without pain.

I am a saint who cusses as much as she lifts her hands in praise. I will never give up on the beauty of the body of Christ no matter how much abuse, narcissism, and trauma threaten to make her seem like a liar. Serving communion will always be the most meaningful work I've ever done.

I am a therapist because I believe wounds that are witnessed heal. In an empathy-deprived world, I know the power of presence. I consider myself a bridge back to belonging, to live in your skin and story with safety and joy. You can learn more about my credentials and approach here.

I am a writer, because I feel God's pleasure when I articulate the beauty and brokenness of life. I share who I am and what I have lived through writing so you can better articulate the pain and glory in your own story. In the past I wrote for myself, eking out survival in a body that works far less well than any thirty-something’s should. But now I write for you, because I know the power of words to bring new life to our stories. I write for you, because the Word made Flesh, Jesus Christ, injects our lives with more glory and joy than we can imagine. Hearing each other's stories helps us see. 

My first book, This Too Shall Last: Finding Grace When Suffering Lingers, released with Zondervan in May 2020. My second book is The Lord is My Courage: Stepping Through the Shadows of Fear Toward the Voice of Love. It’s on Psalm 23, practicing courage, and healing from religious trauma and released with Zondervan June 21, 2022. My third book is The Book of Common Courage: Prayers and Poems to Find Strength in Small Moments, a hardcover collection of my full-color photography, prayers, and poems to befriend your anxiety and cultivate courage right where you are. It releases with Zondervan January 17, 2023.

I’ve also written at Christianity Today, RELEVANT, and a handful of other websites. You can read my published essays here.

I'm a massive fan of Instagram where I share nearly daily musings and gorgeous photos depicting the world I'm experiencing, sometimes loathing, and bringing new life into. Follow me here. I'm also on Twitter and Facebook, with whom I have a like/hate relationship. 

You can subscribe below to receive Embodied, my monthly-ish letter about living at the intersection of sorrow + joy.

Photos of KJ were taken by Abbie G. Meyer: https://www.abbiegmeyer.com/ | This site contains affiliate links.