My Call

All my life I have struggled with God, with myself, and with the world. Life has not been easy for me and I have faced many challenges. I grew up in the Nazarene church as “Pastor Andy’s daughter.” This was something that I loved as a child. The church was another home. It was safe and I loved God more than anything. When I got a little older, the church changed for me. It was no longer safe. What I was taught to be true conflicted with what I experienced in the world to be true. I started to realize all of the damaging things I was being taught; such as having to accept Jesus in your heart or you were cursed to burn in Hell for eternity, staying pure and a virgin until you were married was what God required, the rapture and end times could come any minute, homosexuals and anything “secular” was bad and sinful, others always come before you and your family, and we don’t belong in this fallen world. Not only this, but when I was fourteen, I was sent home from a church Fall Retreat because of self-harm. My parents admitted me to an adolescent psychiatric ward and two nights later my twelve-year-old brother died of Bacterial Meningitis. My heart was broken and my world forever changed.            

I have never, except when very young and very recently, felt fully present in the world. I was so angry and alone and mostly just trying to survive. Self-harm and drugs were the tools I had, which only led me to more psychiatric wards, more treatment, more rehabs, and more pain. I always felt that death was this beautiful ending where I could be with my brother and be with God, and I couldn’t see the beauty of this life. Disconnection and pain were my constants. It was difficult for me to finish school, maintain a job, and be in the world. I had to learn skills and I needed help from someone who could see my pain, stay with me in it, and help me heal from it.

For twenty years I prayed to God to send me a social worker that would see me and not call me “bad” or “difficult,” like so many others in my life. Four years ago, my prayer was answered. It was extremely difficult and took a lot of time and work, but slowly I began to see that my social worker was with me and that she wasn’t going to abandon me or send me away. I began to build what I call Treatment 2.0. I learned how to communicate effectively and how to use my words, I went to DBT group and learned skills, I found a therapist and a psychiatrist, and I found a ketamine clinic that is supportive and safe. I built Kristen’s World, an entire community, and one major piece of that community is Grace Lutheran Church.

It’s been very painful to heal from religious trauma and church can be very triggering sometimes, but, to me, it is worth it. I love to learn and each new perspective on a parable or a part of the Bible feels like freedom. Every time I am in church sitting with my arm around my partner, Victoria, I am healing. I always thought that I wasn’t good enough or that I would have to change who I am to be accepted by God and be a part of a church, but Grace showed me different. It was hard to believe that this kind of church even existed. It felt like the truth I had always known but never had words for. It felt real.

This summer my dad suffered a traumatic brain injury. He was in the hospital and rehabilitation facilities for over three months and had four brain surgeries during this time. Ultimately he had too many strokes in his brain stem and our family decided to move him into inpatient hospice care at the hospital. He died 9 days later.

This experience changed me in many different ways. I honestly feel that my dad, although significantly impaired and nonresponsive most of the time, was teaching me. Without really meaning to, I was becoming someone who was confident and sure of herself in many ways. I was surprising myself. I asked questions and advocated for my dad even when it was hard. I was present with my dad in his healing and his dying. I had God with me always, and I called the angels to his room. I prayed in front of and with others. I sang worship songs and held my dads hand. I anointed him with holy lavender balm and said the words of his baptism daily, sometimes more. I even slept overnight many times when he was in hospice.

I am at peace knowing that I did everything possible for my dad and that I was present with him in this sacred, holy, horrific, and scary part of life. I didn’t think that there would be a time where I would have to go into the world again, but God has different plans.  I know God is speaking to me. God has been preparing me for this moment. I know that I am ready and, although it will be challenging, I have the skills, support, stability, and faith needed to reach my goal. I truly believe that going to LTSC and becoming a hospital chaplain is my calling. I hope that you will believe, too.